Aunt Brenda’s Panty Punishment (Part 1)

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Aunt Brenda’s sharp and accusing voice sliced through the air. She stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, her eyes burning with disgust and disbelief.
I froze, wearing nothing but a pair of her panties, my hand pressed against my cock. The panties I was sniffing were crumpled in my other hand, and my face burned with mortification as I looked up at her.
“I—I…” My voice cracked, unable to form a coherent excuse.
“You what? You thought you could help yourself to my underwear and… and whatever this is?” She gestured wildly towards my crotch, her face turning a deep shade of red.
I dropped my gaze, mumbling incoherently. The room felt suffocating and tight.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.” Her tone brooked no argument.
“Out? Where?” I managed to squeak out, trying to cover myself with my hands.
“I’m going to buy you some new things. Clearly, you need something to wear that isn’t mine.” Her words were like ice, each stabbing into me. “And don’t take those panties off.”
Defeated, I did as she told me, and soon we were driving silently to wherever she was taking me, the tension in the car thick enough to cut with a knife.
Aunt Brenda drove around downtown till she found a parking spot, and then led me into a store with displays of lingerie and panties in its front windows.
Once inside, she turned on her heel to face me. “Pick your panties.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded. “What?”
“You heard me. Pick your panties. You’re going to wear them from now on.” Her voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.
My cheeks burned as I scanned the rows of colorful, lacy underwear. Every pair seemed to scream at me, mocking my predicament. I grabbed a few pairs that looked like they would fit with shaky hands, my fingers rubbing against the silk, satin, and cotton panties.
“Good. Now, try them on.” She pointed to the fitting room, her expression unreadable.
I hesitated, but her stern look pushed me forward. I put the first pair inside the small, cramped space, feeling ridiculous and beyond excited. They were tight, the fabric clinging to my skin and making my arousal very obvious.
When I emerged, she inspected me critically. “They’ll do. From now on, you’ll wear these every day. And every evening, you’ll pull your pants down so I can see how much you’ve soaked them.”
My stomach twisted at the thought. “Please, Aunt Brenda, I—”
“No arguing. Now, let’s go.” She turned on her heel, leaving me to trail behind her, the unfamiliar fabric rubbing against my sensitive skin.
Back at home, she made me strip down in front of her. The sight of my erection straining against the flimsy material made her smirk. “Looks like they’re working already.”
She handed me the panties I had worn earlier, stained with my own precum. “Suck it out. All of it.”
I should have gagged at the command, but I got even more excited. I went down on my knees and took the panties from Aunt Brenda’s hand to push them into my mouth. As I cleaned the fabric, she watched, her expression cold.
“Now, finish what I interrupted before.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.
I did as she ordered, sliding the palm of my hand against my cock through the silky panties. When I came, it was explosive, my body shuddering under her gaze.
“Disgusting,” she muttered, turning away. “Go to bed. Tomorrow will be another day of this.”
Climbing into bed, the memory of the evening played over and over in my mind. Each replay only served to get my cock hard again, and as I started to slowly stroke it, thoughts of what tomorrow would bring mingled with my shame and arousal, leaving me both dreading and eagerly anticipating the next day. What to find out what happens next? Click here for the next part and call anytime for some kinky fun!

Aunt Brenda

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