Punished Read online

  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!”

  The women cheered as Beverley began to flick and slap at my hard on.

  I could feel myself getting more and more excited. I don’t think I’d ever had such an incredibly sensual and attractive – and dominant, older woman interact with me like this, apart from in my fantasies of course.

  “Good, good,” She said, “Let Aunty Beverley make you splurge your cummies for the girls!”

  That just sent me over the edge and I felt myself pumping into her closed fist, really gyrating and humping her as if I had no shame. And the truth was, I didn’t, I was completely out of control and acting on instinct.

  Beverley, opened her hand and began smearing it all over my face and pushing her fingers into my mouth.

  “Yes,” She said. “Eat your cummies, eat it all for Aunty Beverley and her friends.”

  “Right, enough,” Ms Stafford declared. “Attend to the sissy.”

  She gave a signal to the women, a knowing nod, and suddenly they began to close in on me. One of them floored me with a leg sweep and before I knew it I was being secured in position and carried into the elevator that would take me to my room.

  I almost passed out from the excitement, the danger, the sheer craziness of the situation.

  One thing was certain, this experience wasn’t over by a long way.

  I let the cool, cool breeze sweep into my head and tried to get my head together. Walking down a famous New York street, surrounded by famous sights, sounds, and that unmistakable Big Apple ambiance, I was partially able to focus on the here and now in spite of what I had experienced.

  The weather report had said there would be a one hour break in the extreme weather so I knew I had that time to complete my shopping task and get back to the hotel with good in tow.

  I looked around and saw that many other people were also using this temporary break in the weather to rush and dash out in order to buy goods and products that were either essential or the kind of nice luxury that is nice to have in when you just know you are on total lockdown for hours if not even days at a time.

  I kept checking the sky, call me paranoid, in case the snow blizzard returned early. Luckily for me, this did not seem to be the case.

  Always respect the weather as my old uncle Roger used to say; and he should know, he worked as a coastal guard, patrolling the seas in search of those who had found themselves at the mercy of tidal rips and other extreme weather related situations.

  Well, as I say, the weather looked like it was going to hold tight.

  I had my list of items to purchase: a specific exclusive bottled water that the hotel did not stock, some donuts and cream slices from a famous and award winning bijou bakery, and three bottles of a certain Iberian red wine that was renowned for its fullness of body and flavour.

  They were all stocked close to each other, so I wasn’t worried about the time. If I was worried about anything it was the possibility that one or more of the items wouldn’t be in stock.

  This worried me for obvious reasons, well – specifically I was worried about the consequences of failure, as I am sure you can imagine.

  I began my walk back to the hotel. Mission nearly successful, but would that be deemed acceptable?

  Donuts and cream slices? Check.

  Fine red wine? Check.

  Highly specific brand of bottled water? Kinda check, kinda not.

  I’d arrived in the water emporium to be met with a very helpful server who immediately put me at ease by offering me a test sample of their Water of The Week, a fascinating free spring variety from the underground caves of Siberia.

  When I asked for the specific brand I had been sent to purchase, the server smiled – which gave me hope – but then said while he knew of and respected this water, it had sold out, the final bottles being purchased by a woman a matter of minutes ago.

  The server saw that I was disappointed (could he also tell that I was worried?) and instead suggested I take a small case of another variety, the very well regarded Austrian Wet Flush. He insisted that it actually tasted nicer and had a more complex composition with significantly higher purity levels.

  I agreed, after all perhaps this would end up earning me bonus points by actually, if inadvertently, improving on the order.

  I handed the server the cash and took the receipt and placed it in my pocket (it did strike me as odd that he didn’t even offer me an electronic receipt option, maybe it was because I paid in cash, who knows?).

  We had a brief chat about the weather and he explained that he was located only a six minute walk away so knew that even if the weather took a turn for the worse he would in all likelihood make it back to his studio apartment without too much trouble.

  He then asked where I was going and seemed to smile as I answered.

  I didn’t think anything of it, made my excuses and exited the shop to begin the walk back to the hotel.

  I could now see the hotel in the distance. Normally I would not think twice, I was an excellent walker (both power and speed coming naturally to me in this area), but seeing as the weather was beginning to turn I began to worry somewhat.

  I would definitely have enough time, I was simply worried that the goods I had purchased could end up damaged from the snow.

  Specifically, I was thinking about the cream slices and the donuts, as these were perishable goods that would not hold up to an
attack of weather should said attack make contact with them.

  This got me thinking about the smile that the server in the bijou bakery gave me as I placed my order and then completed the transaction. It was almost as if she knew something that I didn’t.

  Was I being paranoid?

  Anyway, moving on, I began to walk faster and faster as I now began to feel the snow beginning to batter my back from behind. I looked behind me and could see the highly ominous sign of a large snow blizzard moving over the skyline.

  I’ll tell you, it takes some degree of extreme weather to make mincemeat of the New York City skyline.

  I couldn’t see a blinking thing, and blinking is the right word to use seeing as the swirling snowflakes were now making it almost impossible to keep my eyes open for linger than a second.

  Still, I knew that I had to return to the hotel to provide the goods, preferably in tip top condition, so didn’t let myself mope for a moment. Head down and straight ahead, I made my way to the front entrance and walked in and back to the suite as instructed.

  What awaited me, I could only speculate, but I hoped that my actions in this task met with approval and did not result in any serious consequences for me.

  Nothing worse is there than when the snow begins to melt and turns into that dreadful sludge grey material. Really can seep into your shoes if you are not careful, leave you with a cold wet foot until your next available opportunity to change your shoes and almost certainly your socks as well.

  Is that the only negative aftermath of the snow falling?

  Not if you ask me, I’d probably also list the damage the snow can do to any gardening work you may have meticulously been working on during the summer months and early spring.

  But please let me check my inherent privilege here: I am fully aware that not every person has the luxury situation of having a garden in the first place. So must not complain too much on that particular point. But, still, it is incredibly frustrating to see the snow decimate your groundwork.

  Also, while I am on it, the snow makes things difficult for birds finding food. A lot of birds die during prolonged periods of snow as they cannot locate their usual supply of seeds and I would always recommend throwing seeds on the areas where birds usually hang out and get their food on.

  That said, and as a contrary argument, perhaps the snow and subsequent lack of bird suitable food is actually an act of nature and it is not for us humans with our complex and one could argue anti-nature interventions to intervene in the situation.

  Personally, I’ll plead the fifth on this one and let you make up your own minds on the tricky matter.

  But, ultimately, yes, the snow was clearing and I was back out to the shop again with a similar order to last time – with very clear instructions, or more accurately: warnings, as to what would happen should I not successfully complete the order and return it within time, in pristine condition, and in full.

  I continued my walk down the street, carefully avoiding and sometimes jumping over the rain puddle snow slop hybrid piles. I wasn’t going to let the melted snow and its after effects slow me down and make my situation worse.

  I had a look around and saw that the streets were busier than I might have expected. Not exactly packed to the maximum level they would be on any other ordinary day where the weather for the previous day hadn’t been so extreme, but busy enough.

  Many of the people had glum looks on their faces, returning to work probably.

  I imagined a situation where my work called me back home early and wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

  Anyway, I bumped into a person who I recognised but didn’t know well enough to know their name or even where I knew them from. The man looked back at me and seemed to be experiencing the same thing.

  Weird.

  We both silently agreed to do that thing you do when you recognise one another but only partially and don’t even want to go to that place where you have that awkward conversation about who, where, how, why and so on. We both continued on our separate ways and I pondered whether he would have the faintest idea about my recent experiences.

  Perhaps he would, perhaps he wouldn’t.

  Perhaps it was something he had also thought of himself in his life, perhaps it wasn’t.

  I almost certainly would never know.

  Anyway, I came to a junction and waited alongside a few other hardy souls out and about in this post blizzard dystopia. No one really pays you much attention in New York city unless there is an angle, and as such we all seemed to stand there in our own worlds until the lights changed and it was time to cross the junction and continue on our journeys.

  I was about a block away from the first shop and looked at my watch. I was making decent if unspectacular time and decided to walk speed and a half until I got to the shop.

  It couldn’t possibly be all that busy but just in case I felt the extra effort, especially given my extenuating circumstances in this situation, would end up being well worth it.

  As I walked towards the first shop, the upmarket bijou bakery that had supplied the creamy products that had caused so much fuss in the earlier experience I had endured (or should that be secretly enjoyed? I’ll leave that for you to work out and maybe even put yourself in that position to see how you would feel!), I wondered what would be on the list this time.

  The reason I wondered was because the list for this shop was this time in a sealed envelope that I had been very clearly instructed not to open but instead to pass to the shop worker behind the counter.

  This had got me worried, I must confess.

  Why the need for secrecy?

  Had I not proven that I could be trusted to carry out an order… in more ways than one?

  Anyway, all would certainly be revealed I imagine, but still I couldn’t help my imagination from running away from itself and considering what I had been experiencing in the hotel, I don’t think anyone would blame me for doing that either.

  Just as the shop was looming close to me, out of nowhere – and I mean nowhere, there was a sudden downpour of rain. It was so heavy that I was soaked instantaneously, my clothes dripping wet and my hair like I had just jumped straight in the deep end of an Olympic level swimming pool.

  This wasn’t ideal to say the least, and I really hoped that as bad as it was, it was only a flash shower that wasn’t planning on sticking around for any longer.

  There was no way I would be able to keep all my shopping totally under wraps and protected from the crashing rain if it kept up the way it was.

  I looked around and saw people running to take cover, even the people with large style black umbrellas were charging for cover.

  But unlike me, these people were not on a strict shopping trip with very clear instructions. For them, the consequences of this were not in the same league as they could potentially be for me.

  I had no choice but to struggle on and power through the moment, hoping that the rain would stop. As it turned out, there was a twist to this situation that changed everything.

  ]Back in my room I took a brief moment to consider what was in store for me. After my introduction to the women earlier I was carried up to my room and found myself, or to be precise my face, used as a sex toy for each of the women.

  They all took turns in riding my face, their hot, wet pussies grinding and bouncing on my tongue and all over my entire face until they were satisfied.

  Some of the women would reverse and bounce and work their supple booties on my face, shouting instructions for me to eat their assholes and lick like my life depended on it, while others would merely take enormous pleasure in pressing down on my mouth until it became obvious that I was struggling to breath.

  Of course, as all this was going on my face, I felt the hand after hand slap and wank my cock, which had recovered from earlier and was now in full sissy erection mode again. I came several times, much to the complete derision of the women who all took their time to explain to me that I was in possession of the most pathe
tic and useless cock they had ever seen in their entire lives.

  They loved tormenting me, but eventually after what seemed like a good two hours, one of them said that I had chores to do and they all had an appointment at the health suite.

  But as they left, Beverley stopped and waited.

  What was she doing?

  “Listen,” She said. “You have done well to be fair to you my little sissy. But prepare yourself for later, you’d better be ready to impress Ms Stafford or there will be real trouble. Whatever you do, don’t disobey her and don’t question her. She’s even punished some of the women for that in the past, so don’t think she’ll hesitate to throw you to the concierges. Well, you might even like that?”

  As she said that, she grabbed my cock and squeezed, smiling as she ran her other hand over my nipples and then down towards my naked bottom.

  She let go of my now hard again sissy cock and I felt her spreading my ass cheeks before firmly tapping my puckered hole a few times. She smiled at me the whole time before kissing me on the lips and walking out of the room, her impressive bottom jiggling as she left to join the other women.

  Well, that was then.

  I was back at my room now after my chores and knew that I had to get down to the dining suite in five minutes.

  I looked at myself in the mirror:

  Sissy maid costume, check.

  Frilly black thong, check.

  High heels, check.

  I knew this would be a difficult evening to negotiate and expected punishment and humiliation to come, but I had no idea as to the extent of what was heading my way.

  I walked into the large dining room, through the heavy oak doors and into the main room. As soon as I did this I was greeted with cheers, laughter, whistling that wouldn’t be out of place on a building site as a sexy woman walked past on the street.