Punished

Author's Warning: This story is about a man who eventually earns a punishment by his Mother, Sister and his Wife. It contains dialog and scenes of bi-sexuality, panty fetish, submissiveness, sissification, and more. Don't read this story if those things bother you.

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My hands were sweating and I could barely grip the steering wheel as I drove home. It was Friday afternoon, and I was caught in rush hour traffic. Looking at my watch, I was starting to panic.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I got home. I didn't know if Beth, my wife of less than six months, was going to be there waiting for me, or, my mother, or my little sister, Cassie. Maybe it would be none of them, or maybe, I'd find they would all be there waiting for me. The fact of the matter is that I didn't know what I was going to find when I walked in the front door. All I knew was that I was supposed to be there no later than 5:30 PM, and, as my wife put it, I better not be late.

My ordeal started less than a week earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago because there had been very little conversation between Beth and I since last Saturday afternoon when Beth caught me sitting at my computer desk in our spare bedroom. I was dressed only in a pair of my little sister's stretchy, boyshort panties, typing away happily like I didn't have a care in the world. I was working diligently on one of my many erotic stories, trying to finish the final chapter, and my concentration level was so high, I didn't hear Beth come home to our little apartment.

I was so wrapped up with my writing, I don't even know how long she watched me before I realized she was there. To say she was shocked would be a gross misstatement. First, finding me wearing a pair of panties was a surprise, but when she read what I was writing over my shoulder, her surprise immediately turned into anger. And, believe me, I would have been fortunate if it had ended with her just being angry at me. But it got much, much worse.

My wife had actually walked right into the room and stood silently a few feet behind me as I typed. She read several paragraphs of the nasty story I was writing, and I'm guessing she even watched as I paused every few sentences and reached down into my sister's stolen panties to stroke my cock. And, honestly, I had no idea she had come back to the apartment early until she cleared her throat to announce her presence and yanked the flash drive out of the USB slot on the front of my computer.

So, the bottom line was this: that flash drive contained all the chapters of every nasty story I had ever written, dating back to when I was in high school, including the story I was trying finish at that time. It also contained pictures I'd downloaded from the internet, as well as certain, extremely compromising pictures I'd taken of myself. And every picture..... every story...... everything on that flash drive went along with my most heavily guarded secret. The secret I'd take to my grave if I had to.

It was something so secret I'd never mentioned it to anyone. Ever! It was something so shameful, I took great pains to keep it hidden from my wife. It was so shocking and so damning, I felt like my whole life was ending when she pulled that flash drive out of the computer and shoved it down into the pocket of her jeans.

If she wouldn't have taken the flash drive, I probably could have lied my way out of it -- made up some excuse about sitting there in the frilly panties. But, the drive contained proof positive that deep down inside, I wasn't really the athletic, macho kind of guy my wife thought she married. Instead, it contained the evidence of who I really was, or, better said -- who I wanted to be:

A submissive, panty wearing Sissy, who dreamed of being sexually dominated, controlled and humiliated by all the women in his life -- namely, my mother, my sister and my wife.

When Beth initially demanded an explanation, she hit me with a flurry of questions that came at me so fast, I wasn't sure where to begin. Why I was sitting at my desk in a pair of pink panties? Why was I writing filthy, nasty stories? How long had I been doing that? Why did I have a hard-on?

As she ranted, the only thing on my mind was getting that flash drive back. If I could just get it back from her, I might be able to talk my way out of this mess. But, she made it clear right away she wasn't giving it back until she had a chance to see what was on it. And when she told me that, a feeling of complete hopelessness and despair flooded over me -- I knew my marriage would be over and my secret would be out.

Then, on top of that, since she didn't recognize the panties I was wearing, she wanted to know where they came from. In retrospect, I should have told her the truth right then, admitting I'd taken them from my little sister's bathroom, but I lied and told her I'd bought them myself. That lie eventually came back to haunt me, but, how was I going to tell her the lace topped, pink boyshort panties belonged to my own sister?

When I wouldn't answer her questions, she got even madder and stormed out of the spare bedroom, walked across the hall into our master bedroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it. An hour later, she opened the door long enough to throw out my car keys, wallet, cell phone, and a complete change of clothes into a pile outside the door. When I knocked on the door pleading for a chance to talk to her, she told me she didn't want to talk to me, adding, "I think you should go stay at your Mom's house tonight. I don't want you here right now."

I know Beth well enough to know not to push her when she's like this, so, I dressed myself in the clothes she threw out in the hall and left our apartment. I called my mother from the car and asked if I could stay the night. Of course, she agreed, and twenty minutes later, I was standing at her front door. She asked me a lot of questions about what was going on with me and Beth, but, I told her it would blow over and I just needed a place to stay tonight until things cooled down.

It had been a while since I'd stayed over night at Mom's house. I stayed there for a week a year ago after Mom and Dad's divorce, and that was one of the most rewarding weeks of my life. I got to peek at my mother and my sister numerous times, seeing them dressing and undressing; in the bathroom, in the shower and in their nightclothes. I had full access to their clean and worn panties, and for that whole week, I wore either my sister's or my mother's panties under my clothes and they never suspected a thing.

The last time, though, was right out of one of my nasty stories. It was the night before my wedding -- the night of our rehearsal dinner. Mom had a few too many drinks, and when we got home, it was like she completely forgot I was supposed to stay there that night. Needless to say, I was able to sneak into her room after she passed out naked on her bed. I got to hold her warm, fresh panties to my nose and jack myself while I looked at her body, and even to this day, it remains one of the most erotic hours of my entire life.

Enough reminiscing......

Anyway, once I got to Mom's house, she put me in my old bedroom and it looked almost the same as when I used to live there. I sat there on my old bed with my head in my hands, trying to decide what I should do about Beth and the flash drive. My mother came in and sat next to me, trying to get me to tell her what happened, but, I told her it was too complicated to explain and asked if she could just let me have some time alone to think. After a few minutes, she hugged me, got up from the bed and suggested I try to take a nap. Then, she closed the door and left me alone to think about how I was going to get out of this mess.

I stretched out on my old bed and must have fallen asleep, not waking up until it was almost 8:00 PM. When I opened the door and looked out into the hallway, I found my Mom's house empty. Mom wasn't there and neither was my twenty year old sister, Cassie. I guessed they might have gone out, giving me some privacy hoping I would call my wife to try to patch things up, so that's what I did. But, when I called the apartment to plead with Beth to let me come home, it just rang and rang -- the message machine didn't even pick up. When I called Beth's cell phone, it went right to voice mail and I had no choice but to leave a message asking her to please call me back.

Finally, about 9:45 my sister, Cassie, walked through the front door followed closely by my mother. Neither one of them spoke to me when they saw me; they both walked right into the kitchen, ignoring me as if I wasn't there. Cassie was carrying one of those flimsy plastic bags like you get at the grocery store these days, and as I walked into the kitchen behind them to ask where they had been, Cassie dumped the bag out on the kitchen table and looked up at me.

There, in a pile right in front of my eyes, was the small collection of panties I'd taken from my sister and my mother over the last year, or so. I recognized them immediately, and as all the color drained from my face, I looked first at my sister and then at my mother. Mom was standing there with her hands on her hips, with the 'I can't believe you did this' look all over her face.

"Tom," my mother finally said to me, "do you want to try to explain to me why you had twelve pairs of your sister's and my panties at your apartment?"

I stood there for a minute and thought what I might say. Obviously, if they had these panties, they'd been over at the apartment with Beth and she probably told them how she found me in panties and what I was writing. They probably started snooping around in the boxes I had in the spare bedroom, and they probably found the other lingerie I'd hidden there and probably my toys, too. Holy shit.

"We left the rest of your lingerie there, Tom." Mother added. "We only took what we knew belonged to us. We left the rest in your hiding place with all your other, uh..... sex things."

My little sister reached down into the pile and pulled out one of the panties and held it up. "Do you have any idea how much just one pair of these costs?" Cassie asked. "There's over a hundred dollars worth of panties here you stole from us."

"I'm sorry." I said softly, hanging my head and turning my face away from them.

I decided I'd better say something more than that, so I looked up at my mother and started to speak, saying, "Mom, I'm really sorry. I don't know what got into me, and....."

"Tom, don't dig yourself in any deeper than you already are." Mom said. "Beth showed us a few of those stories you've been writing and it's plainly obvious to all of us why you took our panties. But," she paused for a second to take a deep breath, "I can't deal with this any more tonight. We'll talk more in the morning..... I'm going to bed."

As my mother turned to walk out of the kitchen, she stopped and looked at me. Then, reaching out to put her hand on my cheek, she said, "You know I love you, right?"

"I don't understand how we're going to deal with all this yet," Mom added softly, "but, you're still my son and I love you. And, believe it or not, I think Beth still loves you, too. So, if I were you, I'd be on my best behavior the next few days and try to do what you're told."

I forced myself to nod my head. Then, as she was leaving the room, she told me my wife had fed them dinner while they were at the apartment, and then turning to my sister, Mom asked if Cassie would make me something to eat.

"Sure, Mom." Cassie answered. "I'll make the perv some dinner."

Mom shook her head at my little sister's remark and left the kitchen, leaving me standing there next to the table full of panties I'd stolen from my Mom and Cassie. My sister and I just stared at each other for a minute, but eventually, Cassie took a few steps closer to me and whispered, "I can't believe you were stealing our dirty panties. That's really sick, you know?"

I didn't want to sit through a lecture from my little sister, so I told her not to worry about dinner, I was just going to go to bed. But, when I turned toward the doorway to leave the kitchen, she grabbed my arm and pulled me around to face her.

"Oh, no you don't." Cassie hissed at me. "You're going to sit down and answer my questions while I get you something to eat. You remember what Mom said about doing what you're told, don't you?"

I rolled my eyes and moved to the kitchen table and sat down facing my sister. Having just turned twenty and in college now, I guess she thought she could assert herself given the situation, but, I didn't argue. The last thing I needed right now was someone else mad at me, so I sat down.

"You were jacking off with my panties, huh?" Cassie asked. "And Mom's, too? Holding them up to your nose and sniffing the crotches while you jerked yourself?"

"Did it get you off?" She pressed. "Smelling your own sister's pussy?"

I didn't answer her. I just sat there letting her rant at me.

"You know," Cassie said in a snotty voice, "I read a few of those stories, myself. Like the one where I stripped you in your bedroom and made you jack off for me? I laughed when you wrote how I dressed you up in one of my nighties and made you wear my silky panties to bed. That's so sick, big brother."

"And, the one where Mom wakes you up in the morning and holds her wet panties over your face and makes you masturbate for her before you get out of bed." Cassie, added. "I can't even believe how you could ever come up with that kind of crap!"

"I'll have you know Mom read both of those stories." Cassie went on. "And we read the one where Mom made you lick between her legs after she'd had some man over to spend the night. Let me see....." Cassie mused for a moment, "What was it you said in that one? Oh yeah, I remember...... didn't you say something like how much you loved being made to lick sperm from a freshly fucked pussy?"

"But, the best one," Cassie said, "I think is the one where you begged Beth to go out and bring a guy home and let him fuck her in front of you. I really liked the part where you described getting on your knees and sucking his dick to get him hard so he could fuck your wife, Tom. I could tell you really got into writing that part, and the part where you licked his sperm out of your wife after he fucked her."

"Did you read all the stories?" I asked as bravely as I could.

"Are you kidding!" Cassie replied. "There was way too many to read while we were there. Those are just the ones Beth pointed out to us. But," Cassie said as her eyes lit up with joy, "and, you're gonna love this part, big brother....... your wife copied all your stories to CDs for us. So Mom and I now have our own private copies of your stories and we can read them as much as we like. Wasn't that thoughtful of her? Mom's probably in her room reading them on her laptop right now."

Cassie was intentionally trying to hurt me with what she was saying. I'm not trying to say she didn't have the right to be mad that I took her panties, but my sister seemed to be taking advantage of the situation in order to be hurtful. After listening to her, I realized how screwed I was going to be if they read every one of the stories that was on my flash drive. If they read them all, they would read some really shocking things, like how I peeked on both my mother and my sister every time I could; how I dreamed of Cassie making me suck off her boyfriends; how much I wanted my mother to strip me and expose me to Mrs. Hampton and her two daughters down the street; my desires to be stripped and dressed by my wife as a little girl, and then taken with a strap-on up my ass by my mother while my wife and sister watched. There was even a whole story centered around a theme where my wife allowed my mother and my sister to bathe me, shave my pubic hair, powder me, masturbate me and then dress me in my sister's lingerie -- all while my wife directed and watched the action. And as I sat there remembering all the stories I'd written since I was in high school, and, all the nasty things in those stories, I felt so utterly ashamed of myself, tears began to swell up in my eyes.

As my smarty-pants sister looked down on me, chastising me with her condescending tone, I started to cry as I sat there - slowly at first, but before I knew it, my emotions and shame overtook me and a moment later, tears were streaming down my face.

I was so ashamed. I hung my head and covered my face with my hands. I knew my sister, my mom and my wife would never look at me the same again once they read all those stories I'd written, and all I could do was cry. I didn't even care what Cassie thought -- at this point, why should I? After all this was over, I'd just wait until the divorce was final and then I'd quit my job, move away and change my name. That's was probably the only way out.

It had been a long time since I cried like that -- probably since I was ten or eleven years old. And I was just about to yell 'Fuck It', go get my car keys and leave that house and go find a hotel room for the night, but, Cassie surprised me by coming over next to me and putting her arms around my back.

"I'm sorry, Tom." She whispered. "I didn't mean to say those things."

I looked up at Cassie and she had tears in her eyes, too. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I'm so, so sorry."

I cried a little more and Cassie sat next to me until my crying stopped. I knew she felt hurt and violated by me taking her panties and writing stories about her, but, I think once she saw how much I was hurting, and once she realized what the implications would be for what I'd done, I think she genuinely felt sorry for me.

After a few more minutes, Cassie rubbed my back and stood up. Then, walking across the kitchen to the refrigerator, she said, "You're a good writer, Tom."

Then, as I looked up at her, she leaned into the refrigerator to take something out and added, "Really, I'm not kidding. Even your wife said the writing was good. And, I have to admit, some of it..... uh, you know...... really got to me."

She and I exchanged glances and she continued. "Mom was shocked at first when she started reading, but she read several of your stories before we left."

I was surprised to hear all this from my little sister. I would think if they were so repulsed at what I'd written, they wouldn't have read so many of them. I knew there must be hundreds of graphic and trashy paragraphs in those stories - about all three of them -- my sister, my mother and my wife. I wasn't sure if they would be able to separate out the sexual fantasy part of it from the things I had written which were true. Like, for example, I really did peek at my mother and my sister and I'd seen them naked many times. I definitely had taken their used panties to sniff and lick while I masturbated, and I'd also taken their clean ones to wear. I even found a pair of my sister's panties one Sunday morning that she probably wore out on her date the night before, and I think they had her boyfriend's cum in them -- and yes, I wrote about all of those things in my stories.

I was so absolutely, and, totally screwed.

Cassie made me a sandwich and put it on a plate with some chips and gave me a glass of water, and I started to eat. It was hard to sit there and eat when I knew she was just standing there, watching me...... her sick, perverted brother.

After a few minutes, she sat down across from me, slumped back in her chair and asked, "Tom, do you mind if we talk a little? I'm just curious about a few things. I promise I'll keep it just between us...... uh, I won't say anything to Mom or Beth."

"It depends on what you want to talk about." I answered. "And if you'll really keep it just between us."

"I promise you I won't repeat anything." Cassie said, softly. "Can I ask you a few questions?"