by Tina Majors
I knew what was coming.
I lay across Angelica’s lap as she began to spank my ass, first over my panties and then on my bare bottom as she slid the panties down to increase the humiliation and punishment.
She very firmly reminded me of my station: a pathetic worm with a small penis that no woman would ever find satisfactory. It was at this point that I felt a surge, an explosion, and realised that I had cum all over her stockinged thighs.
I let out a moan and involuntarily humped myself into her legs.
‘I hope that is not what I think it is!’ Angelica exclaimed and she roughly rolled me off her lap and onto the floor.
The look of disgust on her face was considerable and she surveyed the stringy white mess that adorned her expensive tights.
‘Now, you disgusting little pig, what the hell are you waiting for?’ She exclaimed loudly. ‘Get off the floor, onto your knees and lick up every single last drop of this repulsive wastage!’
I did as I was told, semen still dripping from my worm like dick.
With my bottom still stinging from the spanking, it must have been at least fifty hits before I was unceremoniously flipped onto the floor, I began lapping at my mistresses’ tights. I had tasted my own cum before, but this time it was different, I was eating it up from the thigh of a woman who was taking great delight in punishing and humiliating him, and not just for money.
I felt my cock stiffen again - and so quickly after spurting - and this did not go unnoticed.
‘You must be joking!’ Angelica bellowed. ‘Oh well, at least what you lack in size you make up for in stamina. Still I doubt you’d last more than a minute inside a woman, if your thing is even big enough to actually force its way inside a hot and tight pussy. Now, let’s not put that erection to waste. First, tuck it between your legs. Good. Now, turn around and bend over. Oh, what a sight! You look ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! Okay, turn back to face me. Repeat after me:
I am a pathetic little worm with a tiny micro dick.
Ha ha! You truly are pathetic. Perhaps I should show you what a real man is like, or maybe you’d like that too much I suspect? Okay, I’ve had enough. On your knees and you’ve got exactly thirty seconds to get that squirting again.’
I was in a state of extreme humiliation, euphoria, and arousal and could barely hear Angelica but still managed to lower myself and begin wanking my cock furiously.
Sure enough, I came within seconds and caught most of it.
Without asking, I began rubbing it over my face and into my mouth. I was delirious and knew beyond doubt that the best thing I had ever done was to answer the advert for this position.
Angela stood up and lifted her skirt.
She turned around and revealed her magnificent buttocks.
Spreading her cheeks, she bellowed, ‘Now it’s my turn. Crawl over her and get to work. Show me what you’ve got, and you might just avoid another spanking this evening!’
I felt myself go hard again. The next hour and a half proved very interesting.
But that is another story, one I will continue when I manage to have a break between chores, sissy punishments, and the worship of my Goddess mistress.
HOLIDAY SISSY
Feminization, CFNM Humiliation, SPH, & More…
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…
“Oh dear, that’s not much to write home about, is it?” Annabelle stated. “Well, is it? Answer me when I speak or I’ll administer punishments right here and now!”
“Sorry, Madame, no, my body is not much to write home about,” I said, sounding absolutely pathetic.
“Well, keep on going, I haven’t got high hopes but I need to see exactly what you have,” Annabelle said, her tone a mixture of derision and a kind of excitement that sent shivers of fear but also arousal through my body.
Then I remembered.
Oh no, it couldn’t be, please no, I thought.
My mind was running out of control in complete, total, and utter panic. This really couldn’t be happening to me. Here’s the thing: underneath my ski trousers I was wearing… a pair of women’s panties. And not the kind of panties that I could ever pass off as being small men’s briefs. These were a bright pink pair of frilly, lacy, high cut panties that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Cut high on the thigh, they were barely able to keep my dick and balls in, and that was saying more about the size of the material than my junk, believe me. To the rear they were the classic thong back too. So, yeah, you can see that the idea that I would be able to bluff my way out of this was a complete no-no.
I hesitated.
I knew that if I took my trousers off I would be exposed. I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t. No matter that this powerful woman was commanding me to, I’d run the risk of her reporting me to the police. At least they wouldn’t strip me.
“No, I am sorry, no more,” I said, sounding very nervous and not at all convincing.
“Right, I see,” Annabelle, said.
Then a pause.
I looked at her, she was standing perfectly still, glaring at me. I didn’t know what was going to happen next. Then without warning and before I could react to defend myself she launched herself at me, using pressure points and brute strength to put me in a headlock, bent over, my face only millimetres from the snow.
“If this is how it has to be, my boy, this is how it has to be,” She said.
I felt her hands yank down my trousers in one movement until they were down round my ankles.
Then silence.
I swear I could have heard a pin drop on the next mountain range it was so quiet. Then it began. The laughter. Annabelle, her grip still tight around my waist, began to laugh and laugh and laugh.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” She asked, although it wasn’t really a question.
I didn’t know what to say. I tried to make some kind of corny excuse about running out of my own underwear or having to buy an emergency pair at the airport, I can’t even recall what I said now. It was useless, nothing I could say would sound convincing. I had been caught out, there was no escaping it.
“Well, seeing as you appear to have gone quiet, I’ll answer for you,” She said. “You are nothing but a sissy. A pathetic, beta male sissy. Or to put it even more accurately: MY pathetic, beta male sissy!”
HOLIDAY SISSY
Feminization, CFNM Humiliation, SPH, & More…
By
Tina Majors
Perfect10 Books
All rights reserved with the author, Tina Majors (2019-)
I sat down at my table and opened up the holiday purchase app on my Samsung tablet (a cheeky purchase I had made one bored Wednesday afternoon at work to break the seemingly never ending tedium).
I felt impulsive and had done since waking up that morning and putting on odd socks; and when I say odd socks, I mean each sock was totally unrelated in terms of not just colour, but material, style and length too.
Outrageous.
This wasn’t normal for me, usually I liked to plan everything out and stick to set routines. I certainly wasn’t the kind to deviate from the ordered and colour coordinated roll of socks I had in my drawer.
Well, the odd socks were the beginning of a day of impulse that saw me try a new style of coffee at work, leave early from work, and even take a different cycle route that while no shorter or longer involved more downhill segments but also more uphill – quite the contrast from my normal flat ground route.
So as you can kinda see, this day had been different for me in ways that while not exactly revolutionary on a grand scale, where quite a big deal from my own perspective based on historical patterns of behaviour.
I couldn’t quite place what it was that was driving all this, perhaps I was well and t
ruly bored of my day to day life at this point and this was my way of letting it all hang out so to speak.
It’s not as if I was having a breakdown like Michael Douglas in that movie, I forget what it was called, but it starred him and he was having a kind of really bad day where he seemed to be breaking down and his life was falling down around him as he went and got himself worked up and involved in situations that escalated from the mildly difficult to out and out serious violence.
I think the movie may actually have been called Breakdown?
Anyway, I am sure you get where I am going with this. Essentially I was fine, but on some level something was up.
As I feverishly scrolled and switched screens on the holiday app, I began to wonder what kind of budget I should set, whether I was after hot or cold weather, activities or lazing by the beach or poolside, and also what duration I was looking at – brief city break or three week resort chill and relax?
So many options were presenting themselves to me, I felt a little overwhelmed and had to walk over to the tall fridge and take out and then crack open a can of my favourite lager, a Dutch marque that fizzed and whistled in my mouth with hints of cinnamon. Perhaps that sounds absolutely revolting, but truthfully it was a top can that I found myself returning to often.
The only issue was that I had to import it as it wasn’t really stocked in any local stores, and certainly not in the larger supermarkets. So, yeah you could say I made the effort to get it.
Taking the can and making a long swig, I sat back down at my table and noticed a few scratches that I hadn’t noticed before. Hey hoo, shit happens, I thought, the cold calm of the lager clearly having taken full effect and loosened my worldview quickly and effectively.
I wondered whether I relied too much on alcohol. I mean, should I really be enjoying it so much? Why was it the case that I mentally associated alcohol with relaxation? I mean I know everyone likes a tipple (unless of course you are tea total) but I had a nagging feeling that I was enjoying it too much or rather it was a case that I wanted to taste it a little too much. No big deal really though, just something to keep in my mind and work on.
Perhaps there were other ways of relaxing though? Hey, maybe I could take up meditation, chill to the zen vibe of Buddha or something like that. Or if not Buddhist meditation maybe I could take up star gazing, because I do actually recall I read an article relating to how incredibly peaceful it was to stare up at the sky and ponder the great unponderables of life and the cosmos.
Was there anything I could do that would better, or even equal, the refreshment of a cold beer though? Well, I guess I would keep on searching and see what developed going forwards.
Well, back to my holiday search. I was determined to get it sorted, to put something clear in the diary. You know that feeling when you just know you need to follow your heart in the heat of the situation? Well I certainly knew that at this moment that I needed a blinking good break away.
I swiped through picture after picture, deal after deal, country after country, in truth they all looked great and just what I needed in this moment of my life. I made the decision to be a bit more generous with my purse strings and allow myself to go beyond my normal frugal budget.
Look I ‘m not saying I usually shop at pure bargain basement levels exactly but I certainly don’t splash out for five star accommodation when there is a better deal on the table somewhere else. And actually who says that top of the range air conditioning is essential when a bog standard fan system will suffice and do basically the same job?
But this was different, I was determined to make a holiday that I would remember for the rest of my life, and little did I know at that particular moment that I would be – if not quite in the way that I could have possibly have imagined.
I got up from the table and took a quick pace around my apartment and walked up to the window and looked out. There was a little rain falling and the sky was grey. I could hear the sound of car horns tooting and beeping angrily as they jostled for position in their respective traffic lanes.
Well, this wasn’t inspiring me in the slightest. If anything it was driving my desire to take a much needed holiday and change of scenery. Well, what a strange day. Such poor weather in a funny way acting as inspiration to seek a new location, albeit temporarily and with a fixed date of return. I had decided, this simply must happen and I was not going to hesitate in making it ready set go this very evening.
I walked over to my coffee machine and made a nice latte and drank it with a couple of biscuits on the side. You can’t beat comfort on a cold and drizzly day. Well, I say that because there is one way. You stop waffling on and get to sorting your dream holiday.
I sat down at my table and opened up the holiday purchase app on my Samsung tablet. I felt impulsive and had done since waking up that morning and putting on odd socks on. This wasn’t normal for me, usually I liked to plan everything out and stick to set routines. I certainly wasn’t the kind to deviate from the ordered and colour coordinated roll of socks I had in my drawer. Well, the odd socks were the beginning of a day of impulse that saw me try a new style of coffee at work, leave early from work, and even take a different cycle route that while no shorter or longer involved more downhill segments but also more uphill – quite the contrast from my normal flat ground route. So you can kinda see, this day had been different for me.
I couldn’t quite place what it was that was driving all this, perhaps I was well and truly bored of my day to day life at this point and this was my way of letting it all hang out so to speak. As I feverishly scrolled and switched screens on the holiday app, I began to wonder what kind of budget I should set, whether I was after hot or cold weather, activities or lazing by the beach or poolside, and also what duration I was looking at – brief city break or three week resort chill and relax?
So many options were presenting themselves to me, I felt a little overwhelmed and had to walk over to the tall fridge and take out and then crack open a can of my favourite lager. Taking the can and making a long swig, I sat back down at my table and noticed a few scratches that I hadn’t noticed before.
Hey hoo, shit happens, I thought, the cold calm of the lager clearly having taken full effect and loosened my worldview quickly and effectively.
I swiped through picture after picture, deal after deal, country after country, in truth they all looked great and just what I needed in this moment of my life.
I made the decision to be a bit more generous with my purse strings and allow myself to go beyond my normal frugal budget. I was determined to make a holiday that I would remember for the rest of my life, and little did I know at that particular moment that I would be – if not quite in the way that I could have possibly have imagined.
**
So I turned up at the lodge and it was spectacular. I’m talking top level stuff. I immediately felt happy with my decision to go for a ski vacation. Sure, I liked to ski, a bit of boarding too. But as well as that I figured the apres ski would be pretty much a great way to hook up with people, maybe even get laid.
My first day I hit the slopes quite early in the morning, wanting to catch the best powder as they say in the business. I wasn’t disappointed, this snow would have got even Al Pacino as Scarface excited!
I was getting good speeds on my turns, really pushing myself, maybe even too far for my first day on the slopes having not ridden the white waves for a few years.
Then it happened.
I felt myself lose control for a split second, maybe I wasn’t concentrating as much as I should have been, maybe I was too confident, who knows? Despite attempting to keep my balance I ended up crashing and burning, faceplanting deep into the cold snow.
I felt a sharp pain in my leg, but that pain was soon forgotten as I felt myself being lifted out of the snow. It was surreal, it was as if I was as light as a feather the way I went from horizontal, buried in the snow to standing upright.
But who was the person who had lifted me?
“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She said.
I wanted to reply, to thank her, but I was total dumfounded and almost dizzy by the woman who I was looking back at. Let me describe her.
At least a couple of inches taller than me, this woman was a Goddess on the slopes. Her hair was long and blond, very well maintained with a golden shine that you just know was used to only the best hair stylists. Her large Versace ski goggles rested on top of her head to reveal piercing blue eyes that were made even more spectacular by her perfectly shaped, dark brows and long luxurious eyelashes.
Continuing down, her cheekbones were razor sharp and pointed towards almost certainly the most luscious, plump lips I had ever seen in real life. But totally natural, none of this fake puffed up effect.
Like I say, I was transfixed by this incredibly intimidating, beautiful woman. She was a little older than me perhaps, but in her absolute prime I would say. Here’s the thing though, I haven’t even described her body yet, and when I do I think you’ll see why what happened went down.
To start with, this woman’s muscular swimmer’s shoulders went some way to explaining how easily she was able to lift me up. It was nothing too extreme, and she still retained the classic femininity established by her perfect face. Her ski top was lime green, a top brand, and incredibly tight, totally figure hugging.
It was quite clear that she had large, juicy, but also very pert breasts. I couldn’t help but stare, and this is where the trouble started.
“What on earth do you think you are doing?” She enquired. “I save you from the snow and you say thank you by ogling me? What are you, some kind of pervert?”
Again, I was still totally in shock. I really didn’t know how the hell I should answer this question either.