Panty Pervert Meets His Match.
I couldn’t resist sneaking into the garden to steal those lovely frilly panties hanging on the line. Next thing I knew, a voice behind me said “Yes? Can I help you?” I turned in a panic, to be confronted by a gorgeous imposing redhead. “I…I…I didn’t realise you were in” I stuttered. Then a brainwave. “I thought it was going to rain, so I was taking them in for you. I was going to put them through your letterbox.”
“That’s very kind of you.” she said innocently. “You must let me make you a cup of tea.”
I wondered if my luck was in as I followed her into the kitchen. Sadly no! Quite the opposite!! She locked the door and put the key down her bra. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you numbskull” she said sternly. “I know a panty thieving knicker nicker when I see one; and I filmed you. I’m going to call the police”.
“No! Please forgive me!” I begged. “I can’t face going inside again. I’ll do anything you want”
“Oh! Will you indeed?” she said. “You can start by calling me Mistress Helen. Now get your shoes and trousers off. Chop chop!!”
I did as I was told. “You really are a pervert” she said when she saw I was wearing ladies panties. “Now get over my knee! You are due a spanking.” She spanked me hard with her hand, before pushing me off onto the floor and ordering me to worship her shoes and feet. The spanking hadn’t been too bad, but while I was kissing her feet, she started hitting me with a thin leather strap. Much more painful.
“Kneel up!” she said “Hands on your head! Tell me what a pervert you are, and how much you need correction.”
I was forced to beg to be punished and cured of my unsavoury habit. “Haven’t I been punished enough already?” I whined. She just slapped my face and told me to remove my panties. She laughed when she saw my willy was locked into a short curved metal tube. “You look like you’re on tap!” she said. “What’s that all about?”
I told her “my wife keeps me like this. I’m incapable of satisfying her, so I’m forbidden from satisfying myself.” “Quite right too” said Mistress Helen. “She sounds like a very sensible woman. Anyway, I don’t want to hear your moans, so give me your panties.” She wadded them up and stuffed them in my mouth. She then got a cotton bag and put it over my head. “That’ll shut you up” she said. “Before I punish you, I’m going to have a cuppa, so I’m going to have to keep you bound and gagged.”
She grabbed an ear through my hood, and dragged me to the stairs. I fumbled my way up a few steps to a bend. Here, my face was pushed into the corner, and I was tightly tied to the bannisters, with my hands secured behind my back. She then took some photos of my predicament. “You wait there” she said sternly, with a couple of smacks “I’ll deal with you when I’m good and ready. If I want you to say something I’ll remove your gag, but until then, just keep still and keep quiet, or you know what you’ll get! You can reflect on your sins and anticipate your punishment”
I heard her go into the kitchen and put the kettle on, so I wriggled my wrists. No chance of getting free, but I heard her say “I’m watching you! That’s ten strokes of the strap for a start, so keep still!” I kept as still as I could after that, but still ended up being sentenced to thirty strokes. Eventually, she put her cup down and came over to untie me. While doing this, she told me she hadn’t really needed a drink; she just likes tying people up. “Especially big soft pansy poofs like you” she said.
Once I was free, she grabbed my ear and towed me, half stumbling, half crawling, up the stairs and into the back ‘bedroom’. “Crikey! What’s all this?” I asked, but I was just slapped, and told to shut up and get on the spanking bench. My wrists and legs were tightly secured. “We’ll start with ten” she said, selecting a tawse from her awesome correction collection. I had to count and thank her for each one. “How many more?” she asked. I hopefully said “only ten more”, but there was no fooling her. She buckled a bit gag into my mouth and put the bag back over my head. Then she said “I’m going downstairs. When I come back, I’ll ask you again if it’s ten or twenty more. If you get it wrong, you’ll get another 40; so think on!”
I was defeated, and had to admit it was 20, and these were duly delivered. “Time for some aversion therapy!” she said. I had to lay on my back on the floor, with my head in her smother box, which was locked shut. She proceeded to sit on my face, and I had to kiss whatever bit of her was covering my mouth. It was hard to breathe at times, but she could sense I was enjoying it. It was frustrating to have my hands tied so near to my pride and joy, but not being able to touch myself.
After spitting into my open mouth, she eventually let me out. “You were enjoying that far too much!” she said. “You need to be caned.” I was put back over the bench, and ten firm strokes landed on my already hot, sore backside.
I was then forced to thank her for my punishment; to tell her I was a reformed character; and that I would never misbehave again. “You’d better not!” she warned. “I had a look through your wallet. I know who you are Mr ‘Panty’ Penny, where you work and where you live, so if any underwear goes missing in future, I know who to come to first.” Then she said “Only a big soft sissy loser like you would try to steal underwear from a professional dominatrix. I charge for sessions like this, so I’ve taken the money out of your wallet. Don’t worry. I left you with a few pounds. After all, you’ll have to buy your panties from now on, instead of stealing them!”
She then told me that I am now her sissy bitch and must obey any demand she makes of me. “If I say ‘jump’, you say ‘how high?’. Or else you’ll be in big trouble!” she growled.
She then told me to get downstairs, get dressed, and get out before she called the police after all.
I hope this is to your liking, and reflects what a fun session it was. I’d be happy to do something similar again.
Always superb to have a session story received, well done and yes lets play some more soon!