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  PUNISHED

  Hardcore Feminization Bundle

  By

  Tina Majors

  Perfect10 Books

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

  Synopsis

  Have you got what it takes to be PUNISHED?

  This Hardcore Feminization bundle will provide you with 115,000 words of supremely strict, humiliating, and downright degrading stories that show what happens to sissies when they come into contact with a variety of strict, powerful, and incredibly dominant women – and their friends, both female and male.

  Boundaries will be pushed in these dirty stories that leave no taboo unexplored as subservient panty-boys do exactly as they are told… or else!

  These stories are strictly for adults only, so expect lots of CFNM, Spanking, Full Body Worship, Public Humiliation, Group Humiliation, Alpha Male Worship, and of course… lots and lots of the most scandalous panties!

  Contents

  1) Sissy Destiny

  2) Feminized By The Boss

  3) Sissy Rules

  4) Punished In Panties

  5) Her Sissy Now

  6) Holiday Sissy

  7) Sissy Beach

  8) Sissy Life

  9) Sissy Exposed

  10) Sissy Captured

  11) Full Time Sissy

  12) Author Page & More

  Now before you go any further, why not sign up to Tina’s Mailing List?

  https://mailchi.mp/11e8a006f9b3/tina-majors

  No spam, just a cheeky email for you sissies notifying you of a new story, plus the occasional freebie if you’re lucky ;)

  SISSY DESTINY

  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…

  I summoned up the courage to speak.

  “Yes, Ms Stafford,” I said. “I do enjoy it, I am here to serve you and everyone else here and do whatever it is you ask of me. Please punish me when you think I deserve it, humiliate me when you think I need it and dress me as your…”

  What was I saying? I couldn’t believe what was happening.

  “Yes?” Ms Stafford asked. “Continue…”

  “Dress me,” I said. “Dress me as your sissy slut, your panty boy, your small dicked little loser.”

  There was silence around the room.

  Had I said the wrong thing?

  Was this the worst thing I could have said?

  Suddenly, Ms Stafford began to clap, slowly at first but then rapidly. She was joined by the rest of the women. I still couldn’t believe how I had spoken so openly about my desire to be this group of magnificent women’s pathetic little sissy.

  I felt dizzy with the magnitude of what I had said.

  My cock was twitching so quickly I felt as if the slightest touch and I would make a mess all over the floor, right in front of these incredible women.

  The room fell quiet again as Ms Stafford stopped her clapping.

  What happened next astonished me.

  She stepped forward towards me and stopped inches from my face. Two women walked up to her and helped her remove first her blouse and then her trousers. I could feel myself drooling as she stood there in her silky, lacy white bra and panties. The panties were classic, lacy, high cut on her slender but powerful thighs.

  She maintained eye contact with me as she bent forward and slipped the panties off and into her hands.

  “Now, you be a good boy and smell these for me,” She said, pushing the panties onto my nose.

  I took a deep inhale and felt my legs buckle a little at the sweat, yet sweaty odour.

  “Good, now I want you put them on your head and repeat after me,” She continued.

  In a trance like state I did as I was told.

  “I am a sissy slut,” She said and I repeated.

  “I am nothing but a perverted panty boy,” She said and I repeated.

  “I will serve without question,” She said and I repeated.

  “I will take my punishment like a good little boy,” She said and I repeated.

  With that, she pulled me by my hair and roughly put me over her lap as she took a seat. What followed was as intense a spanking as I could ever imagine.

  It was full force from the first spank.

  “Oh you little bitch, stop squealing!” Ms Stafford said, annoyed.

  She took her panties and stuffed them in my mouth to muffle my pleas for leniency. The spanking continued and the crowd of women cheered and whooped as I squirmed, tears falling down my cheeks.

  Finally, it was over, and I was picked up by a couple of the women who dragged me into the centre of the room.

  “Now,” Ms Stafford said. “What I want you to do is stand there with your hands on your head and begin wiggling that silly little wimpy body of yours. I want to see your bottom wobble, I want to see that stupid little maggot of a manhood bounce up and down. Girls, clap to give the sissy a beat.”

  And with that, the women began to clap and I began to shake my body in time. I couldn’t have imagined that I would be able to feel more humiliated but this did the job.

  I felt so inadequate as a man and soon enough found that my dick was hard again.

  “Right,” Beverley said as she stepped towards me. “Time to see what this little sissy clitty can do!”

  -end of preview-

  SISSY DESTINY

  Feminization, CFNM Humiliation, SPH, and More…

  By

  Tina Majors

  Perfect10 Books

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

  I opened the taxi door and stepped into the cab, a famous yellow New York city cab no less, and took a seat. The driver turned his head around towards me a little and asked, or should that be mumbled, the question of where I was heading. I told him the name of the hotel, The Place Hotel, and he seemed to hesitate so I told him what road it was on and he then nodded his head and turned his head back around and faced forward.

  The driver put the car in gear and gently eased away from the airport taxi cab parking spot.

  The driver turned up the music, some kind of Polish hip-hop fused with an old school raga-classical flex, and after initially recoiling from the sound explosion I found myself bobbing my head a little to the infectious beat and subtle groove.

  As he drove from the airport, out of the airport zone and onto the motorway – or freeway as they say in the US of A – I looked out of my window and saw that, yes, the snow had been fairly heavy in New York as expected.

  Indeed, I had certainly felt a cold snap as I took the few steps outside of the airport complex to select my ride. Much of the ground was covered in snow, a white blanket that was both beautiful and all encompassing.

  The roads were busy, as expected, and I looked at all the different styles of car on display: big SUVs, small beat up two door boxes, some limos, one or two super charged and extravagantly spray painted super cars.

  The big city scene on the horizon gradually disappeared and became my reality. I was here, in New York City, on a work trip. But what was to come, you know – the stuff I previewed previously, was on my mind, pushing its way up from my subconscious thoughts and into my reality.

  The taxi pulled away.

  I had tipped the driver generously because I believe that tipping people is a positive thing to do and money should be distributed as fairly as possible; this taxi driver probably worked hundreds of hours a month for a low wage, he needed the tips because who knows, they could be going in his kid’s college fund or toward a deposit for a
bigger place in the suburbs, or for some medical costs for him or a relative – either way, you get my drift.

  The taxi made a turn on the left street and disappeared from my vision.

  I looked at the hotel and couldn’t help but notice a funky looking coffee place across the road. I decided to head to the coffee place first as I was caffeine deprived and had taken no pleasure at all from the miserable dreck that had been served to me on my flight.

  I was surprised, travelling in business class and getting given a coffee that tasted like stagnant water and cardboard was not what I expected.

  Perhaps there had been a problem with their machine?

  If there had, I would have preferred them to be honest. I probably should have complained but my natural shyness in such situations, after all who was I to complain, I was making a transatlantic flight in business class, prevented me from raising my quarrel over the state of my not even piping hot beverage.

  I crossed the road and walked into the coffee shop.

  I took a seat and a server came over to me and took my order. I asked for a speciality roast from the Bosnian mountain region poured long and the server looked suitably impressed with my selection. I knew there would be a wait, but I didn’t mind as soon the hot speciality elixir would hit my lips, flow down my throat, and into my system.

  My seat looked out on to the street, a classic New York City street of bustle and hustle, and over to the hotel entrance. I watched as a group of several businesswomen walked into the hotel. I was kind of average height, but these women all seemed exceptionally tall I must say.

  Anyway, my drink finally arrived and it was indeed delicious.

  I immediately selected my TripAdvisor app and gave the place a thoroughly deserved five star rating.

  I looked back to the hotel and thought it was about time to check in.

  As I crossed the road I felt the classic feeling of snow gently patting my head and also my long jacket. I looked up and the New York sky seemed very blue and calm, were it not for the almost rapidly storm like snow blizzard that was coming in my direction.

  Wow oh wow, I’d been in some extreme weather conditions in the past, and of course you always expect the unexpected in New York, but this was crazy and intense all in one.

  Suddenly a part of me, quite understandably, was wishing that instead of checking out the top level coffee in the coffee shop I had instead followed on my original plan of checking in on the hotel.

  Well, who knows how it all would have panned out, perhaps I would have checked in and been already out again by now?

  Well at least this way I was checking in now and would be able to chill in my hotel room until the snow blizzard went away, stopped, or even calmed down and settled a little bit.

  Anyway, I began to walk a bit quicker towards the pedestrian crossing.

  Just my luck it was on red and I was forced to wait with the other citizens, tourists, and visitors to this city. We were getting pelted by snow at this point.

  I saw one woman’s large silver hat, a bowler-cowboy hat hybrid I think (very odd I must say either way), fly away into the white-out distance. I felt sorry for her but I also questioned internally why she wasn’t holding her hat in place in anticipation of a sudden gust.

  But ultimately her problems were not my problems and I soon forgot about her hat based predicament.

  Result!

  The light turned green and we all powered on to our respective destinations on the other side of the road and beyond. I walked up the steps and into the hotel foyer. What was about to happen would surely match the extremity of this weather, but unlike the weather, I wouldn’t be able to just walk away.

  To my complete and total shock, I was told by the concierge, an absolute rhubarb of a man, that my company had moved my reservation to another of the hotel’s sites across the city.

  Even in normal circumstances, this would be pretty dire but with this weather I was totally screwed.

  It was at that precise moment that I felt a hand on my shoulder. I noticed the concierge give a knowing look and nod his head, passing me a set of keys that he pulled from underneath his desk zone.

  I turned around and was confronted with a tall, elegant, impeccably made up woman in her forties, although she could easily pass as better than most women ten years her junior.

  I recognised her from somewhere… wait… she was one of the women I had observed from my seat in the coffee shop.

  Just as I was about to thank this beautiful woman, she grabbed me firmly by my arm and began to walk me away from the concierge and towards a large double door which looked like it led to a conference room of some sort.

  As we walked away she turned around and said thank you to the concierge. Her exact words were: thank you, for now.

  I knew something was up here.

  I felt a tingle in my cock.

  Maybe it was the way I was in effect being manhandled by a total stranger, maybe it was the intoxicating perfume, maybe it was the fact that my whole life I had fantasised about being dominated by a strong woman.

  Well, what happened next would change my life.

  The woman walked through the double doors and practically threw me to the ground. As I lifted my head I could see that I was surrounded, quite literally, by at least ten, maybe more, of identical women.

  All powerful looking, all made up expensively but classily, all with their firm eyes glaring at me in a mixture of amusement, intrigue, and a wicked sense of something I couldn’t put my finger on.

  Before I had a chance to speak, the main woman began to address me.

  “You,” She said. “You didn’t have a room and I have given you one. You would have been walking the streets of this great city if it wasn’t for me. Do you agree?”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond and began to mumble a response.

  I was finding it hard to make eye contact with any of the women, all so stunning, all way out of my league, all probably with way more money, way more intelligence, way more power.

  I continued to mumble and then found myself being lifted up by two women.

  I felt their crotches grind into me as they held me tightly, one of them lifting my head roughly to face the others.

  “I said, do you agree with me you little bitch?” The woman said. “Answer me!”

  “Y-y-y-es,” I said, a nervous wreck.

  What was happening? I honestly had no idea as I continued to feel the two women hold me in place, pushing their groins into my bottom.

  “My name is Ms Stafford,” The woman bellowed. “This simply will not do. Strip him down and work him over!”

  With that, the two women threw me to the floor and in a manic flurry began to tear my clothes off my body. I attempted to stop them but they had the moves and the power and the numerical advantage.

  Every time I tried to wriggle free I would get a punch or a slap.

  “Stop resisting you little wimp, and say thank you for undressing me Aunty Beverley,” One of them said as she yanked off the one remaining foot I had in my trousers.

  “Thank you Aunty Beverley,” I said, completely shocked at how easily I had given in to her demand.

  Now totally naked, I was hoisted back up by Beverley and Louise. Louise gripped my hair to make sure I wasn’t able to avert my eyes from the women, while Beverley pulled and pinched my nipples, laughing as she did.

  “Well, well, well,” Ms Stafford said, looking around to the congregated mass of elegant, Amazonian women.

  Ms Stafford walked up to me and without warning pointed at my rock hard, bouncing, twitching, but rather small cock standing right up in front of her.

  She burst out laughing and shouted: Cameras ladies!

  With that command I was almost blinded as the women pulled out various phones, expensive SLR cameras, and video recording devices, and the flashlights went off in earnest and for what seemed like an eternity.

  “Enough!” Ms Stafford declared. “There will be more time for that later, captur
ing this little loser’s humiliation will be a big part of this experience. For us and for him! Now tell me little boy, and little is the operative word quite clearly, are you enjoying being total controlled and dominated by us? And don’t you dare lie to me!”

  I really didn’t know what to say.

  I was terrified but undoubtedly massively turned on by what was happening to me. I looked around at the women and time almost seemed to stand still.

  One woman, at least six foot, had perfect large breasts almost bursting out of her tight business shirt; another woman, this one shorter, had a tiny waist and what appeared to be the most powerful thighs I had ever scene; another woman, this one whose nipples were clearly as hard as was possible, was wearing a trouser suit that was incredibly tight around her crotch, showing off a perfectly shaped outline of her throbbing pussy.

  I was in heaven, I couldn’t deny it.

  I summoned up the courage to speak.

  “Yes, Ms Stafford,” I said. “I do enjoy it, I am here to serve you and everyone else here and do whatever it is you ask of me. Please punish me when you think I deserve it, humiliate me when you think I need it and dress me as your…”

  What was I saying? I couldn’t believe what was happening.

  “Yes?” Ms Stafford asked. “Continue…”

  “Dress me,” I said. “Dress me as your sissy slut, your panty boy, your small dicked little loser.”

  There was silence around the room.

  Had I said the wrong thing?

  Was this the worst thing I could have said?

  Suddenly, Ms Stafford began to clap, slowly at first but then rapidly. She was joined by the rest of the women. I still couldn’t believe how I had spoken so openly about my desire to be this group of magnificent women’s pathetic little sissy.