Punished

by Tina Majors

  “Well that was pathetic, wasn’t it?” She said. “Absolutely what I expected I suppose, but what a total sissy, beta, excuse for the male form I have here. Now, get off the floor and come over here to clean your disgusting mess of your Goddess’ inner thighs.”

  I did as I was told, making sure to use my tongue to lap up all of my cum.

  “Now,” Sara said. “We’re going to exchange details so that I can contact you when I need to summon you for your punishment, your tutoring, the beginning of the next step in your sissy life. And listen, I may be tough on you, I may be cruel, I may humiliate you beyond anything you’ve ever thought possible. But I’ll be doing it to make you the best sissy yogi’s assistant ever. Now, put your black thong back on and run home. No shorts, just the thong and your t-shirt. Maybe some big alpha men will see you, maybe not. So you better run fast.”

  I was scared, excited, confused.

  I did what I was told and ran as fast as I could all the way home.

  This wasn’t the end, it was the beginning, and I could only imagine what would happen next.

  **

  Well, time passed, and it was now a few days later.

  I laced up my running shoes and did some preliminary stretches outside of my house.

  One of my neighbours, a real motor mouth, came over and I groaned inwardly as I knew that this was ten minutes of my life I was never getting back.

  Seriously, this man would talk and talk and talk, about anything at all and almost always nothing remotely interesting. But I always considered myself a polite person who didn’t like to hurt the feelings of others so I said hi and asked him how he was, knowing full well that this would mean a long monologue was incoming.

  And guess what? I was right.

  Geoff Cropse-Bean began talking about his planned next extension at the rear of his house. I’ll spare you the full A to Zee of what was being done at Villa de Geoff but long story short, he was getting an extension to his kitchen and was currently in the midst of a dilemma over whether to stick to his original plan of a flat roof extension or in actual fact opt for the sloping option.

  Geoff decided to run through both pros and cons for each type of roof.

  Oh lord have mercy upon my soul!

  By the time he was finished I felt like I could conceivably work as a roof salesperson, if such a job existed in the real world.

  Well, I’ve come this far in the story of Geoff’s dilemma I may as well tell you the outcome: he had indeed decided to go for the flat roof option.

  Wow.

  Did this guy really expect me to care?

  I mean, if Geoff knew what I had experienced I very much doubt he would think that his trivial issue would be of the slightest bit of interest.

  Anyway, as I say, I like to think of myself as a polite person and I nodded and asked appropriate questions all the while counting the time down until he would finish and let me get on with my day. Ultimately, he did, and he walked away to no doubt harangue another one of our neighbours.

  Oh well, this is what happens when you live on a street with a decent sense of community – some good points but also some somewhat irritating aspects also.

  But truly is there such a thing as a perfect place to live?

  I doubt it.

  The fact that as annoying as Geoff was I knew that he would also do me a favour if I asked, or keep an eye out on my place when he was away, that I could genuinely see was a really positive thing. I think things like this can often go unnoticed, expect in their absence. For example, I had been away for a few days and a group of idiotic youths had decided to tear up and down our street tipping the rubbish bins over.

  Well, this had happened to my bin and Geoff had taken upon himself to help out and put mine back up, clearing the debris that had fallen out of it. For this, I was very grateful. Had he not done it, not only would it have probably remained like that, it would have been a real downer to return to.

  But, saying all this, he was still really annoying – but I guess the kind of annoying that you can just about put up with given that there are positive to the person too.

  Anyway, I finished my stretches and began a slow jog back towards the park.

  **

  On my slow jog I remembered that I had arranged to meet a friend next week to watch a new superhero movie.

  Now don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy watching the latest adventures of Ironman, Spiderman, Batman and so on, but recently I had been feeling a bit fatigued with the absolute deluge of movies that were coming out.

  It was almost becoming a full time hobby to keep up with every single itineration of the Marvel expanded universe movies. And again, it’s not that I thought they were bad movies, far from it, I think I just felt that they were a bit of a much of a muchness, if you know what I mean. Marvel had found a formula that worked, both in terms of box office receipts and in terms of keeping the majority of the core comic book fans happy.

  What I felt this led to was a kind of formulaic feel that kinda made the movies quite generic in their tone.

  On the other hand, there were exceptions such as the second Thor movie that took it to a different place, a bit kookier and more mythic. Outside of the Marvel Studios films there were nice touches like the Logan Wolverine film, the Nolan Batman films of course were excellent – but the new DC cannon was mixed at best! Personally I enjoyed Batman vs Superman but I can accept that a lot, and I mean a lot, of people hated it.

  What I’d always yearned for as a kid was these kinds of movie, and now they were happening I was quibbling about them. Perhaps this was a sign that I was getting old, I mean really who are these movies aimed at?

  I guess they strike a balance – and maybe therefore a compromise – by appealing to kids and adults alike.

  Maybe I was thinking about it too much and I should just shut up and either go and enjoy the movie for what it was, or just make the simple choice to not bother watching them?

  Life is full of these kinds of choice isn’t it?

  Probably best not to let the little things like this dominate your thoughts too much, especially when you never know what kind of big, life changing experience could be about to happen to you, as I had found out.

  **

  I began my run in earnest by starting slowly to avoid any kind of injury; as I say, I had had a long history of strains, fractures, and ligament damage from my past as a high level contact sports player, so it was important to me to leave those injuries behind in case I suffered from conditions such as arthritis later in life.

  It was a hot day that day, the sun was high in the sky and I think the temperature was topping out at about eighty degrees. I was a fan of the sun, a real sun worshipper if you will; what I enjoyed about the sun, and being out in it, was that energising feeling you get from its rays.

  I’m pretty certain it is a medical fact that while over exposure can be damaging, a responsible level of sun exposure can provide you with a super charged amount of vitamin D and also work wonders for your mental health.

  Now combine the sun with physical exercise and it is actually a combination that can massively, and I mean massively, boost your health and wellbeing.

  All of this meant that as I ran I allowed my mind to open up to the notion that this activity was doing me good, both physically and spiritually.

  I began to deviate from the smooth tarmacked part of the woodland and onto the rougher woodland path.

  I enjoyed the shade that it provided and I also enjoyed the deviation from the monotony of the smooth track and into the up and down and bumps of the woodland ground.

  I began to jump over stray branches, dodge around overgrown bramble bushes, and sprint jump over muddy puddles.

  Of course I knew how close I was to the area where I had had my experience, but I didn’t think it was possible for anything like that to happen again so I put it out of my mind and carried on running.

  I felt a buzzing in my pocket and stopped running.

  It was my mob
ile phone and it had received a message.

  This was strange, I didn’t recognise the sender.

  The message was an emoji of a person running.

  Huh, must be from one of my work colleagues and they have a new phone but haven’t informed me of their new number or had the basic decency to sign their name at the end of the message, I thought.

  This explanation made perfect sense as I had been telling my work colleagues about my work regimen, although of course I did not go into any details regarding my more extreme experience last time, so it made perfect logical sense that one of them on their new phone would message me around this time.

  Well, I put it out of my mind and carried on running until I was out of breath and decided to take a moment to walk for a while.

  Some people swear by running and not stopping but in actual fact it is of far more value to run as hard as you can, stop briefly, walk for a bit, then run hard again.

  It’s all about getting that heart rate up and down. And let me tell you, my heart rate was about to go into orbit. Now maybe it was the intensity of what had happened with Sara, or maybe it was the concussion, but I had almost put it out of my mind and written it off as a fantasy. After all, I hadn’t heard from her since the experience, so maybe it hadn’t actually happened?

  Who was I kidding?

  As I was running, I suddenly had to bring myself to a sudden stop as none other than Sara, this time with another woman, stepped out of the trees and blocked me, both standing with their hands on their impressive yoga pant clad legs.

  “Hello my sissy, did you get my text?” Sara said.

  Of course, she had been watching me.

  The experience hadn’t been a concussion induced fantasy, which I deep down always knew to be the case. Instinctively, I got down on my knees and lowered my head to show humility.

  “Yes, Yogi Sara, I got your text,” I said.

  “Wow, I’m impressed,” Sara said. “Seems like our little encounter has left a lasting impression on you my little slut. But how rude of me, I haven’t introduced you to my trainee. Would you like to meet her?”

  “Yes Yogi Sara, I would be honoured,” I replied.

  “This, sissy, is Yogi Tiffany,” Sara said. “I am training her in the ways of yoga, and the ways of female superiority of men, especially sissy beta fags like you. She will be taking a full part in today’s session, is that understood?”

  “Yes, of course Yogi Sara,” I said. “Anything to please you would be my honour.”

  I really couldn’t believe how subservient I was being, how little resistance I was providing. After all, I had had only one experience with Sara, and here she was with another yogi, presumably ready to put me through another raft of humiliation and degradation.

  First though, a little about Tiffany.

  She was younger than Sara, probably in her early twenties. She had dark hair, olive skin, and was a fuller figure than Sara, and a little shorter. She was quite frankly incredible and her wicked grin displayed a youthful enthusiasm, albeit it made me feel nervous for what could happen when the yogis outnumbered me two to one.

  Sara and Tiffany walked into a small cleared area of woodland, and I followed behind them on all fours.

  I looked up at their bottoms, both full and toned with that special jiggle that was always guaranteed to set my pulse racing, and get my sissy cock rock hard.

  These two women were the definition of femininity, but a powerful and strong kind that was easily more than a match for a beta male like me.

  “We’re going to start as we mean to go along, slut,” Sara declared. “Get over here, now!”

  I crawled over to them and found my face being pushed to within millimetres of Tiffany’s large, bulbous rear.

  Sara gripped me by the hair and began her commands.

  “Sniff her bottom,” Sara exclaimed. “It’s not a fucking request, it’s an order. Sniff it in. Good. Now, Yogi Tiffany, lower your trousers and command the sissy as we discussed earlier. Remember, this is all part of your training.”

  I was a little unsure of this development.

  I could get my head round taking orders from Yogi Sara, but I didn’t know about Yogi Tiffany.

  How wrong I was to even doubt her though.

  Tiffany pulled down her yoga pants to just beneath her large cheeks. They wobbled and then settled, protruding magnificently, totally bare.

  “Listen up geek,” Tiffany declared confidently. “Get that little nose of yours right up in between my cheeks and smell me. I want to hear you sniffing as if your life depends on it. Do it now!”

  I did as I was told and as I was doing it I could feel Sara removing my running shorts. I was wearing a pink pair of women’s work out panties. They were tight, had a thong back, and left little to the imagination.

  “Good,” Tiffany said. “Now my little bitch boy, I want you to get that tongue to work on my arsehole. Flick it around and up and down and then stick it right in.”

  I followed her instructions to the letter.

  In truth I was completely impressed and bowled over by her authority. I struggled to believe that she was new to this. She seemed like an absolute master dominator.

  Tiffany then turned around and flexed her pussy into my face so hard I fell to the ground. As I was lying on the floor she circled me, kicking me, laughing as she did.

  She was loving this.

  As I say, clearly born into it, a total natural.

  “Sissy boy, get up if you can!” Tiffany declared triumphantly as my weak attempts to stand up were met with kicks and pushes that kept me on the ground.

  I felt that my dick had come out of the panties and went to put it back in.

  “Oh no you don’t, you sad little pervert,” Tiffany declared. “Keep that sissy clitty out and let me inspect it a little closer.”

  I did as I was told and lay there, my hard cock free from the pink panties.

  I looked over to Sara who seemed amused by the whole thing.

  Amused and impressed it should be added.

  Tiffany knelt down and began to casually flick my dick head with her fingers, laughing as she did it. She then spat on the head and slapped it several times.

  “Yogi Sara was right, this really can’t be classed as a man’s cock,” Tiffany said. “It’s just pathetic, I probably wouldn’t even feel it going inside me and I’ve got a lovely tight little pussy too. Now tell me, how pathetic is your cock?”

  I looked over to Sara, I wasn’t sure I could do this. But Sara merely looked back at me sternly and I knew that I was expected to answer as fully and honestly as I could.

  “I have a tiny little dick,” Yogi Tiffany, I said. “It’s a beta cock for a beta sissy, no woman would have any interest in it other than for making fun of it and humiliating me about. Real men would laugh at it compared to their big monster cocks.”

  “Woah, who said anything about other men?” Tiffany said, a wicked smile crossing her mouth.

  “I-I-, you said-,” I tried to reply.

  “No,” Tiffany cut across. “No, you came up with that yourself. Looks like you’re not just a sissy for strong woman, you’re a sissy for big alpha men too. Tell me, do you see men in the gym changing rooms and stare at their big tree trunk willies? Do you think about what it would feel like to put your lips on their cocks and swallow their juice? Do you have to run to the toilet and wank that little thing, imagining that all the big strong men might take you right there and then in the changing room? Ha ha, I do expect answers here sissy…”

  Again, I looked over to Sara.

  “Sissy! Stope hesitating, this is part of your training as much as Yogi Tiffany’s,” Sara said.

  I knew I couldn’t mess with Sara.

  Or Tiffany for that matter.

  “Y-y-yes, Yogi Tiffany,” I said. “I do look at the big willies in the changing room, and I do imagine them getting hard and me kissing them and licking them, helping them to grow. I-I-I-I then imagine the big strong men start to pat
my bottom, squeeze it, spread it open, begin telling me that I’m a sissy cuckold beta boy. I imagine that I’m made to dance for the men, bounce and grind on their laps as they put their hands all over me…”

  At this point I felt my cock explode, spurting all over my stomach and into my cupped hands.

  Tiffany and Sara were now standing side by side, recording every humiliating moment of my confession and ensuing sissy splurge.

  They looked at each other before stripping.

  They pushed me to the ground and began to take it in turns to ride my face until they powered to orgasm time and time again until they were satisfied.

  They were already soaking wet when they initially sat on my face and I knew that I was turning them on with my confession. This in itself turned me on but it also made me worry about whether one day they would make me convert this fantast of mine into a reality.

  It both scared and turned me on in equal measure.

  Once they had finished using my face for their pleasure, they ordered me to stand before them, my hands on my head and my sissy cock pointing right out towards them.

  “So, tell me boy,” Sara said. “Have you enjoyed being degraded and humiliated by Yogi Tiffany? It certainly looks like you have.”

  “Yes Yogi Sara,” I said. “It has been a pleasure to serve her.”

  “Well,” Sara said, turning to Tiffany. “It seems like you have convinced this little weakling. And I must say I did rate how you handled this sad little specimen. It wasn’t perfect, and I’ll sort that out by giving you a good spanking later. The slut won’t get to see that, don’t worry. Well, not this time at least.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and furthermore the thought of Sara spanking Tiffany’s big, sculpted ass made me cum right there on the spot.

  “Haha! Now,” Tiffany, Sara said. “What you are witnessing is the purest form of sissygasm. But his next step is to learn to only cum on command. Let’s punish him. Double spanking, hard, no mercy. Grab him for me.”

  What followed was a long, hard, relentless spanking.