Punished

by Tina Majors

  She had also said that poor timekeeping, along with the potential situation of me losing my position, something that I strangely could not even contemplate happening despite the spankings, the humiliations, and the degradations, would lead to my punishment schedule being enhanced and my freedoms reduced.

  Today for instance, she had explained in no uncertain terms that for every minute I was late back from the supermarket expedition I would receive an extra spank to my naked bottom from a starting point of twenty hard spanks.

  Furthermore, as it was related to a car journey, the spanking would take place in her driveway and with me bent over the front bonnet of the car itself. Yes, the driveway was a private one – but as she said, what is to say a burly delivery man wouldn’t arrive with a package, or one of her cleaning maids might return to pick up one of their feather dusters, or possibly even she might just have a visit from a group of her equally powerful and intimidatingly buxom female business society friends?

  I began to find myself indulging in just how painful and humiliating any of these scenarios could be when I suddenly became aware that the cards behind me were beeping their horns in a frenzy.

  The lights had changed to green and as I put the car into first and quickly then second gear, I did not know whether to hope for a prompt arrival back to my new home in order for my mistress to be pleased with my performance or a somewhat later arrival that would almost certainly prompted some al fresco chastisement and bottom reddening corrective measures.

  **

  I lay on my bed and wondered what I should do with my evening.

  My mistress had given me the rest of the night off my duties and I felt very grateful to her showing me such kindness, after all in theory she could have given me more chores to do such as unloading the dishwasher or making a start on folding the sheets that were hanging in the drying room ready to be put back in their drawer upstairs in the small airing room.

  Mistress had said that as it was a chilly evening she would put the heating on all night and I would be permitted to sleep either in the pyjama bottoms she provided – a lovely pair from Marks & Spencer that cut in tight around my front and my bottom: yes, they were women’s pyjama bottoms of course, but they were comfortable and made a change from tiny panties and knickers that I was usually wearing now – or a simple pair of high cut tanga panties in black.

  Perhaps from my enthusiasm for the pyjamas you can see that I chose to wear those.

  Anyway, in my pyjama bottoms I put the television on and casually flicked through the channels to see if there was anything that caught my fancy. She had warned me that I was not to watch anything too provocative that objectified the female form, one because she did not like to see women objectified by men (it should be the other way round according to her) and two because I was not permitted under the terms of my employment to become aroused unless I received express oral or written consent from her, my employer.

  I couldn’t seem to find anything that interesting on the tv, it was just the classic Saturday night rubbish of reality shows and talent contests, so I decided to leave it on in the background and just chill out after my hard day at the office, so to speak.

  A few minutes later I saw that a new show had started and it featured several men and women in a reality environment and they appeared to be spending less and less time wearing any clothes. I couldn’t help but find my attention piqued by the women who seemed to have shapely bodies and weren’t shy about exposing them to raise their profile.

  On the show it appeared that somewhat inebriated on cocktails and shots they had decided to have a twerking contest on the table tops of their rented house.

  As I watched their partially nude but almost fully exposed bottoms jiggle and bounce, I felt a surge of blood to my dick.

  Back in the day I would have taken my lap top out and looked at porn when I felt aroused, but seeing as that was now strictly banned, this could be the closest I would get. In a moment of madness, a kind of horny fever, I pulled the pyjamas down to my knees, lay back and stroked myself to the tune of these young women twerking and licking and sucking on their large nipples for the entertainment of the muscled men of they lived in the house with.

  This was absolute madness, I knew that mistress could walk in at any moment and I would be in total violation of the rules.

  And guess what happened?

  I heard a hard and fast knock on the door.

  Spot check, make yourself presentable for your mistress, came the call from outside my room.

  I leapt up in a vain attempt to pull my pyjamas back up and cover myself. It was all too little too late.

  There I was, standing with my pathetic little erection half sticking out of my semi pulled up women’s pyjamas, and in the background a quite unedifying scene of women exposing themselves for the attention of horny gym obsessed men.

  “What on earth do you think you are doing you utter, utter disgrace? NO, don’t even attempt to answer. Get those pyjama bottoms off, right off, right this second and hand them to me,” She said, before walking over and doing the job for herself, roughly yanking them down, pushing me over on the floor with ease due to my unbalanced position, and removing the bottoms entirely.

  “Don’t move a muscle, you need to stay down there on the floor like the worm you are, you little maggot,” She bellowed, towering above me in her stylish yoga pants and athletic sports bra that only just managed to supress her large bazooka breasts.

  She dropped right down onto my chest, winding me a little.

  “Oh don’t even think about moaning like a little bitch, you’re lucky I don’t throw you out onto the street boy,” She exclaimed. “Now, you may think it’s okay to watch women debase themselves but I happen to think that it’s you who needs to experience some humiliation. Look at your little cock, still stiff, still aching. I’ll ask you a question now and you’d better answer honestly. What were you doing before I came in?”

  I knew I had to answer honestly, because I had been warned that punishments would only be severe if I lied, and mistress would always know if that was the case.

  I gulped and began to answer, finding myself mesmerised by the Amazonian goddess pressing down on me with her immensely powerful thighs and heavy buttocks.

  Her yoga pant cladded vagina was only inches away from my face and I knew she would smother me with it given any hesitation from my part.

  “M-m-m-mistress, please accept my apologies I made a very big mistake,” I stuttered. “I accidentally left on a programme that featured the incorrect action of women pleasing men. I know that is wrong. Please show mercy on me. I saw their naked, voluptuous bodies and gave in to temptation, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me…,”

  I was almost breaking down, half turned on and half devastated that I had gone against my keeper’s wishes.

  “Well that’s a decent start,” She stated. “But I’ve got a question for you. Do you think you’re a match for the men in that programme? I’m looking at them now, tops off, rippling muscles and bulges in their tight pants. As stupid as they are, I am sure I could put them to use on my body. But I look down at you and I see a pathetic little panty pervert, a sparrow’s cock little boy’s dick. Now answer me, are you a match for these men?”

  “N-n-no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m such a little wimp. Please, let me make it up to you mistress. I’ll do anything, anything you want,” I said, genuinely desperate to please this goddess as she bounced up and down on me, laughing, gently slapping my face.

  “Well, well, okay, this is what will happen,” She said. “We are going to reverse the roles on the television. You’re going to be the little bitch making a fool of yourself for the big strong master. You’re going to learn that if you watch trash you will be treated like trash!”

  With that, my mistress picked me up off the floor and pulled over a chair in front of the television.

  The reality show had now cut to a scene of one of the large men and o
ne of the slutty women in the bedroom. They were fucking, with the woman bent over the bed and taking a pounding from behind. Mistress roughly bent me over the chair, facing the television, then walked over to the shelf that displayed her ultimate deterrent, a large black strap on.

  I watched as she placed the strap on over her yoga pants and walked in front of me, giggling.

  “Okay boy, you better get this big cock nice and wet because it’s going right up that stupid little bottom of yours in a minute,” She declared. “And you’re going to take it for as long as the woman on television takes her big length for. That’s it, suck it, leave lots of nature’s lube on there.”

  She walked behind me and I felt her spread my cheeks, exposing my puckered ass to the world.

  Then, it came, and I felt the large head push against me and I instinctively let out a long, deep moan.

  I couldn’t deny it, it felt good, if uncomfortable at the same time.

  “Ooooooh, please-,” I said, unsure whether I was asking her to stop or asking her to drive it in further.

  “That’s it, take it you little slut,” She said. “You’ll learn your lesson here make no mistake. Look up at the television at that stupid little woman getting exposed in front of millions. You should thank your lucky stars that this is just between us two, for now at any rate.”

  And with that, she began to move the fat cock in and out of me at a great speed, herself beginning to moan now.

  She was really going for it – and I would later see that the strap on had a built in vibrator intended for the user’s pleasure – until she appeared to climax and then drop her full weight on my body.

  I had nothing left, I felt as if my dignity had been well and truly taken away from me, but there was one more act to seal my punishment for the evening.

  “Now,” She said. “Now that I have composed myself I want to see you finish yourself off, wank that pathetic little maggot and spurt it. But there’s a twist, seeing as you are a sissy little bitch, you will be wanking it to the freeze-framed image on the television. Hahaha, don’t even try and protest, yes, you will bring yourself to cum to the image of that large stud standing tall with his muscular back and powerful bottom to camera. And as you stroke, on each stroke you will say: I am a pathetic sissy who knows her place in the pecking order. Now, without further ado…”

  I stood up and face the television any my magnificent mistress.

  I began to stroke, repeating as instructed the line: I am a pathetic sissy who knows her place in the pecking order, as instructed. And the thing was, as humiliating as this was, I knew it to be true.

  If mistress suspected my sight was drifting, she would grab my face and point me back in the direction of the large, toned man and his strong calves, thighs, buttocks, and shoulders.

  “Yes, you feel dejected and humiliated by me, by this prat on the television, but you also feel turned on by us both too,” She confidently stated.

  I felt myself losing control.

  “That’s it, faster, faster, faster, faster, ooooooooooh and there it is, what a lot of mess you’ve made on your floor!” She laughed, utterly revelling in her victory over me.

  She began to laugh, compounding my humiliation.

  “Now get on your hands and knees and lick up every drop you utter waste of space,” She commanded. “We’ll make a good servant of you yet, but there’s a long, long way to go slutty boy toy.”

  As I licked up my own hot creamy mess from the laminate floor, occasionally looking up to the magnificent sight of my new boss, I knew that I had never ever felt such degradation in my life.

  But another thing was also true, I knew that I had also never felt such commitment to serving another person, to pleasing them, to being their possession.

  I knew that this would be a job I would never get sick of.

  I knew there would be many more tales of humiliation, punishments, and my boundaries being pushed further than I ever thought imaginable.

  More than anything though, I knew that this was the real me, a true sissy doing what sissies are born to do.

  HER SISSY NOW!

  A Feminization Romance

  By

  Tina Majors

  Perfect10 Books

  All rights reserved with the author, Tina Majors (2019-)

  Now before we hit that filthy, humiliating, frenzy of panty punishment, let’s have a little peak at what’s to come…

  'Yes Mistress, I understand,' I said, my heart beating.

  'Stand in front of me,' She commanded.

  'Yes Mistress,' I said, quickly following her order.

  'Strip for me I,' She said, her voice serious yet also a little playful, a demeaning and fun tone to her voice.

  'Yes Mistress,' I spluttered.

  I nervously took off my t-shirt, followed by my shoes and jeans.

  I had followed Angelica's order to wear the panties that she gave him at the interview and stood there in front of her wearing them, conscious that my dick was hard and pointing outwards towards her.

  'Ahhh, there they are, the panties for the panty boy!' Angelica put her hand out and rubbed it over the material, over my hard cock, and then reached behind him to feel my bottom.

  'I bet you love every minute of wearing them, don't you?' She said, a wicked grin on her face.

  I just nodded, trying desperately not to get overly excited and make a mess that would surely be followed by a punishment of some kind.

  'I hope you followed my other order: that you didn't touch your tiny little worm?’ She asked as she ran her fingers over the front of the panties.

  ‘No Mistress,’ I said. ‘I promise I haven't.'

  I felt my cock stiffen further, knowing full well that this was a lie.

  ‘Well… I think you might be lying,’ She said. ‘Well, your tiny little worm belongs to me now, not you, I. It looks pleased to see its owner anyway.'

  Angelica laughed.

  'Now I will leave you here for fifteen minutes so you can read over your chores and get acquainted with your room in your new home,’ She said. ‘I'll call you down shortly, and I will give you some more instructions.'

  I sat on the bed for a moment in a trance like state.

  I was in just pink panties and filled with such a nervous excitement and sense of wonderment.

  Angelica, after all, gave me the option to leave at any time.

  Yet, right now, I had absolutely no intention of leaving.

  I had fantasised about this scenario all my adult life and I was prepared to give it a go.

  I couldn't believe how sexy I found Angelica and already was developing a crush on her. There was an aura and deportment about her that I found captivating.

  I had spent the time between the initial interview and today in a dreamlike state, masturbating constantly and full of anticipation at perhaps catching a glimpse of her in the shower, or changing into lingerie.

  Lingerie that I would surely attempt to try on at any given opportunity.

  While I sat on the bed slowly facing the reality of the situation, downstairs I would later find out that Angelica was making her assessment of me.

  HER SISSY NOW!

  A Feminization Romance

  By

  Tina Majors

  Perfect10 Books

  All rights reserved with the author, Tina Majors (2019-)

  So I had spent my twenty eighth year travelling the world, something I had wanted to do ever since I graduated. I met some fascinating people (and some dull ones too!) and saw some of the wonders of the world, but something was missing.

  I’d had some sexual encounters but they had all left me unfulfilled. There was something about the gap year students that didn’t quite do it for me; sure, they had great bodies, tanned and supple, but they lacked… character.

  All too often I would find myself on the receiving end of a so-so, boring blow job, followed by a bog-standard missionary or doggystyle to finish off.

  The pattern was clear, the Gap Year g
irls were too servile, boring almost. There’s only so much fun one can have fucking crazy college girls on their year out from academia or extended internship placements.

  The thing with me was that away from work, which I found boring and unfulfilling, often wiling away the time dreaming of my favourite sexual fantasies, I had had an enormous desire to serve. Not serve in my local specialist coffee house or fast food restaurant chain, but serve a Mistress.

  I had spent hours on end fantasising about being dominated by a woman - ideally by one older than me and with a full figure in all the right places. At the height of my post graduation earning power, while not making me a billionaire exactly, but making my disposable income pretty impressive for someone my age, I had taken the plunge and arranged an appointment with a dominatrix I had sourced through an adult website. I saw her several times and enjoyed it, often climaxing within minutes – and on one humiliating occasion, seconds - of arriving for my session.

  But something about the experience left me a little cold, the fact that I was paying for it took away the magic that existed in my truest, most honest fantasies.

  I sensed that had it not been for the money I had given, the women would not be interested in dominating me, that they were going through the motions so that they could pay the rent on their luxury, seemingly identikit, serviced apartments.

  But could this all be about to change?

  However, back to the realities of life for a moment, the fun of the trip would come to a sudden halt the moment I stepped off that plane and back onto terra firma and the more moderate, often rain sodden climate of wet England.

  You see, I had left a decent job, bringing in fairly big money working for an accountancy firm in Manchester, England. I earned bonuses, drunk in the nicest bijou bars and lived a pretty hedonistic lifestyle of premium sports packages and exclusive gym memberships (where I often spent most of my time imagining my face underneath the latex clad asses of the gym’s keenest female squatting and deadlift queens).