by Tina Majors
But, hey, it was too early in the morning to be getting into a deep psychological rumination. I just wanted to chill!
I eventually settled on a new series that was being aired on Netflix. It was called Doctors In The Plaice and centred on the lives of eleven doctors who all happened to have holidays retreats in a small fishing village on the East Coast. Each weekend they would apparently make the car journey out of the city back to their rural retreats and the drama would be played out over the course of each weekend. The cast was very ethnically diverse and had a fifty fifty split between the sexes. Of course, I am sure you have by now guessed that relationships would develop, histrories would be created, and personal issues would be aired out between various combinations of these doctors.
Sounds terrible right?
Well, I’ll shock you, it was kinda okay.
The only thing I would have changed would have been to not have so many long tracking shots of fishing boats bobbing up and down in the water. I think this was some kind of misguided metaphor to be honest and after a while it really started to grip my shit.
But, hey, it’s only a TV series right? I always have the option of the OFF switch. Of course, one thing that didn’t come with an OFF switch was my situation was Annabelle as I found out, just before the season 1 mid-season finale credits rolled. What would happen with the doctors? I would have to wait, suddenly there was a far more pressing situation.
**
“What do you think you are doing?” Annabelle said, her voice commanding, clearly angry but maintaining control.
“I-,” I spluttered.
“Shut up and present yourself to me!” Annabelle roared.
I immediately jumped out of bed and got on all fours at her feet, presenting my ass up in the air.
“Mistress, I’m sorry, but-“ I pleaded.
“But nothing!” She replied. “I’ve been having my personal training session in the gym complex and I return to not only find the chores not done, but you, the house sissy, relaxing upstairs!”
I must have forgotten about the tidying I was required to do. I don’t know what had come over me, I must have been so exhausted from the night before that it plain went out of my mind.
“Well,” She said, “This just makes it clear that you have a lot of learning left to do, and we may as well get straight into it.”
With that, I felt her kick me over so that I was lying on my back, totally helpless in nothing but a pair of tight black panties, cut high with a thong back.
I must have looked ridiculous.
I looked up and saw that Annabelle was wearing a skin-tight workout jumpsuit. It perfectly outlined and accentuated her magnificent curves, which judging by their prominence, had been given a fantastic workout earlier.
“That’s it, sissy, drool over your mistress,” Annabelle said. “But, I didn’t give you permission to look did I?”
I knew this was a trap that would lead to punishment. Any response I made here would lead to pain and humiliation, as would no response. I was stumped.
“I-I-I-, please show mercy,” I said, totally aware of how pathetic I sounded.
Annabelle shook her head in disdain before picking me up and leading me by the ear out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
“You’re going to see now that failure to abide by the rules will have consequences, sissy,” She said.
As we walked down the stairs and then towards the gym and sauna suite, I began to hear voices.
Laughing.
Talking.
Male voices.
“Please! Please Mistress, I’ll be a good sissy slut!” I begged, still being pulled by the ear.
Mistress Annabelle laughed.
“Oh, it’s sinking in now is it?” She said. “Maybe sissy realises that this punishment won’t just be with his Mistress?”
I knew this was a statement rather than a question. I panicked and made the worst move I could have done. I tried to pull free and escape the inevitable humiliation that was coming.
“Oh no you don’t!” Annabelle roared.
As I tried to break free, she simply put me in some kind of combat sports arm lock, making it quite clear that she could inflict devasting pain if I so much as hinted at trying to move in the wrong direction.
I was physically totally under her control.
We approached the door to the fitness suite. I expected us to go right in, but Annabelle stopped just outside the door, pushing my close to it.
Close enough that I could hear the sound of the men inside. I figured it sounded like three or four.
“Listen, and tell me what you hear,” She said, her mouth close to my ear, sending shivers of excitement all over my body and mind.
I knew what she wanted to hear, I just wasn’t sure I could go through with it. Then, as I paused, she twisted my arm up again. She meant business.
“Mistress,” I said. “I can hear the sound of alpha men, all of them lifting big weights, working out their masculine bodies to be even more impressive specimens…”
“Good,” She said. “Now, continue, tell me your sissy fantasies you cock hungry slut.”
“Yes Madam,” I replied. “I am a wimpy, pathetic panty boi who craves the big, thick cock of real men. Please punish me, let them see what a weak, mindless little bimbo I am.”
“Yes, yes,” Annabelle said, laughing. “This is the real you. You are a sissy, and sissies are to be punished, degraded, humiliated, and used for pleasure by their mistresses. Do you agree?”
I knew that no matter what was to happen next, I did actually agree with what Annabelle was saying. Even if I was only just finding out now, since meeting this incredible woman, that on some level I had always been a sissy boi, and it was pointless denying it.
“Yes, I agree, Mistress,” I said. “Please let me show you how much of a sissy slut I can be.”
This was all that Annabelle needed to hear. She released my arm and took a step back. I put my hand on the door, turned the doorknob, and walked into the fitness suite.
As I walked in, each man put down their weights, stopped their particular exercise.
Annabelle walked in behind me, and totally instinctively I walked over to a workout bench and stood on top of it. I was presenting myself on display for the big, strong, alpha men. I knew this was what Annabelle wanted, and I also realised that this was what I wanted too.
Annabelle used voice command to turn the volume up on the suite sound system and I began to move my wimpy, feminine body in time to the music. I hiked my panties up to make them even more scandalously revealing. Quickly I found myself really getting into the beat, enjoying this experience as a dancing bimbo.
I could hear the men cheering, see the bulges in their tight lycra workout gear visibly grow as I got more confident in my moves. I got on all fours and began to bump and grind into the bench surface. I began to twerk, much to the amusement of Annabelle.
“Look men,” She declared, “The slut wants to show you all her cute little tushie! Look at those ass cheeks pop!”
The men all laughed.
“Go on boys,” Annabelle said, “Have some fun with her!”
They didn’t need asking twice.
Immediately I found myself being groped, spanked, my nipples being pulled and twisted, my ass cheeks being spread. Needless to say, my thong was soon pulled off and I was totally nude.
I was beginning to lose all sense of shame, acting like an animal in season. Now on my back, I began pushing and thrusting my crotch up and down, my tiny little sissy clitty rock hard but still absolutely pathetic.
One of the men, clearly the alpha of the alphas, spat on my cock and I let out a whimper of delight, shock, and – I had to admit – happiness.
“He likes that, Marcus!” Annabelle said. “But why don’t you show him what a real cock looks like?”
Marcus then took a step back and pulled his lycra shorts down. As they were lowered, I felt as if time was moving in slow motion. I was in heaven as hi
s rock hard, incredibly thick, throbbing cock bounced out and faced me. It was intimidating, that was for sure. You just couldn’t compare it to my sissy dick, it was almost as if they were two entirely different body parts.
I knew full well that I wasn’t really a man.
How could I be? Not just in comparison to Marcus, but to any of the men hear, who were all now stripping to reveal their large cocks. Big black ones, meaty white ones. All incredibly masculine and capable of giving a woman an orgasm probably without even going all the way in.
I was drooling – and it didn’t go unnoticed.
The men were now circled around me. I was totally at their mercy.
“Sissy, do you know why you’re drooling?” Annabelle asked. “Don’t bother answering, I’ll tell you. The drool is a natural reaction to the alpha dick, but it’s also your body’s way of telling you that you’ll need to lubricate something. Can you guess what?”
Annabelle and the men all laughed. They didn’t give me a chance to answer.
What happened next was kind of a blur. But in moments I found my mouth was filled by Marcus’s cock as the other men around me began to work their meat, some of them in my smooth sissy hands, some just slapping their erect cocks on my nipples and my face. Wherever there was a space, there seemed liked there was a hard, salty dick being worked on it.
Annabelle knelt down next to my face.
She looked happy, and this made me happy.
“You see, slut,” She said, “This is the kind of degradation and pleasure you can experience as a sissy. As my sissy. As each one of these men shoots their hot cum over your body, I want you to say thank you to me, tell me how much pleasure you’re in. Even if there’s a big dick in your mouth, I want you to keep talking. Show me how much you deserve this.”
I did as I was told, and as each man shot his hot, salty cum over my face, my stomach, my mouth, I told Annabelle that I was thankful to have met her, happy to be her panty wearing, cock craving sissy boy, and was focused on serving her loyally and to the best of my ability.
The men finished and left me on the bench, my body and face covered in their cum. I could hear them high-fiving and laughing as they went to shower. They sure had worked themselves out, there was no denying that.
I was left like a total brainless slut, exhausted and with the taste and smell of masculinity all over me.
“Now sissy,” Annabelle said, “I’m still going to punish you for screwing up earlier. You will be spanked long and hard, and I’m also going to have you dress up in an especially slutty maid outfit so you can be properly trained in how to clean by Johanna, the head cleaner. But now, well, let’s just say that I need cleaning – and you’re going to be using your tongue to do it.”
I knew that my work was far from done.
But I also knew that this simple holiday had turned into so much more, and that I had never felt happier, more complete.
Crawling behind Annabelle towards the sauna, watching her magnificent ass bounce and sway, I couldn’t wait to get my tongue to work and continue my perfect life as a sissy chalet boy.
**
SISSY BEACH!
Feminization, CFNM Humiliation, SPH, and 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…
“Get up on your feet so I can inspect you,” She roared. “You don’t get to drool over me and not get your own pathetic sissy self given the once over!”
As I stood in front of her, I remembered my training from Annabelle that had begun on the slopes on that first skiing holiday that changed everything. I placed my hands on my head, kept a small gap between my legs, and stuck my sissy bottom out with a little forward lean and arch in my back.
I wasn’t prepared for Madame Jennifer’s response.
“Oh my God,” She said, wickedly, almost laughing. “This has to be the most sissy thing I have ever seen in my life. Look at you! Tiny little thong, shocking colour. Did you choose it yourself? Trying to look as slutty as possible, are we? I wonder why. No, don’t answer that. We’ll work it out over the course of the next few days I think. You see, looking around the place I can spot all the short cuts you’ve taken with the cleaning. Not good enough, not even close you little maggot. And speaking of maggots…”
I gulped.
I saw her looking down towards my crotch, a wicked grin on her face.
She stepped towards me and as she did I looked down.
I couldn’t believe it, the shame…
My sissy dick had somehow got out of the panties and was standing right up to attention. This was incredibly humiliating.
Of course, I knew that she would be loving this, and would definitely be reporting it back to Madame Annabelle, probably over Skype later that evening.
Madame Jennifer stopped in front of me, only a matter of centimetres away from me. Her perfume was strong, seductive, quite overpowering.
She held me in her glare.
I felt my rock hard dick twitching and bouncing up and down involuntarily, so much so that I was worried I might cum in front of her… and even worse – cum without her permission!
“Oh, the look on your face says it all,” Jennifer said. “I know you just want to wank that stupid little piece of useless junk until it spurts everywhere, don’t you? Well it’s not happening. Not now, and maybe not later either! Any objections?”
“No, of course not,” I replied, “Of course not, Madame Jennifer.”
“Good, well done for correcting yourself there,” She replied. “But, you are getting a punishment now for the state of this sloppy cleaning up job, and for drooling over me.”
Madame Jennifer then led me by my arm over to the large plush four seater sofa and quite easily lifted me up and put me over her strong, firm legs.
I felt helpless, my ass exposed and my hard cock wedged up in on her lap. I could feel her legs tensing and flexing and it turned me on in a way that again made me worry about cumming right there on the spot.
“You’re going to get some spanks now, and after each one you will say thank you,” Jennifer said. “Not only that, in between spanks you will tell me how much of a sissy you are! And if I don’t think I’m getting enough detail the spanking will just get longer and longer and longer. Understood?”
I agreed, not that I had much choice and began to take my spanking, making sure to say thank you after each spank. I began to go into my sissy fantasies too, much to the delight of Jennifer…
SISSY BEACH!
Feminization, CFNM Humiliation, SPH, and More…
By
Tina Majors
Perfect10 Books
All rights reserved with the author, Tina Majors (2019-)
So I arrived at the beach house and I felt like I was in a movie or a glamorous TV show. Big glass walls, supreme architecture from top to bottom. I was totally impressed but soon got used to it. The thing is, when you’re doing daily chores for your Madame, it doesn’t make all that much difference what the luxurious state of the carpet or master bed is, you’re still the sissy help!
Anyway, Madame Annabelle was away on business and had instructed me to arrive early at the beach house and get everything neat and tidy.
It was kind of a drag.
Time passed and I made a pretty average effort to get the place looking up to standard. I guess I just wasn’t feeling motivated?
More time passed.
I looked at the clock in the kitchen and realised that I had been misreading it, I was an hour behind and this meant that I actually only had half an hour before she would be arriving and I had to get everything ready.
I felt like panicking,
I could feel the sweat build on my forehead and a bit drip down my back. Wow. After what had happened at the previously with Annabelle I couldn’t believ
e I had left it so late to get everything, including myself, ready.
Well, I say I couldn’t believe it, perhaps I could – I had always been kind of notorious in work and personal circles for leaving everything until the last moment, and here was more proof of that particular personality trait.
Quite why I was so bad at failing to prepare in time adequately I genuinely had no idea, even though it was something that had only really started to become a problem recently, as prior to that I always seemed to be able to bluff my way out of situations.
I think it was because now I had taken on more responsibility at work – if you could really call it work – and if you could really say I even had a choice in the matter! - it was harder to avoid the increased expectation levels and the pressure that comes with that. In many ways it was a bit of a catch twenty two situation and while it had caused me inconvenience and annoyance at work, it was always manageable – but in this case it would potentially have huge consequences for me that I couldn’t just bluff off to a manager.
I looked around the large luxury beach house kitchen and saw the dishes piled to the side of the dishwasher (seriously, why hadn’t I just stuck the dishes straight in the washer!?), some clothes on the floor by the washing machine (ditto to my last parenthesis!), and general crap lying about the place.
I whipped the clothes in the washer, slammed the dishes in the dish washer, and gave the place a speedy hoover.
I was boiling, cleaning in a hurry was hard work and I was feeling the full force of it, despite the epic air con system.
I had a nagging feeling I was forgetting something, but it seemed like the more I thought about it, the harder it was to remember if that makes any sense?