Laura had already embarrassed me in front of my sister, not only making me strip to my underwear and showing her my chastity device, but also explaining to Phoebe the rationale for making men wear female undies and denying them sex. Yet I knew that this was only the start of a morning of intense humiliation for me. Laura was determined that I should be thoroughly punished for what I did to my sister six years ago, and Phoebe had every intention of relishing my occasion.

The two women went through to the lounge and engaged in animated conversation while I made them coffee. Both seemed very excited. After serving their drinks, I was told to stand facing them, with my back to the wall, like a Victorian servant might do. Laura went on to tell Phoebe how my punishment would be administered, being sure to speak loud enough for me to hear. Despite being five years younger than my sister, Laura had an air of authority and Phoebe seemed in awe of her and overwhelmed by events. That was rather worrying, as was the way that Laura described my forthcoming punishment. Phoebe was listening open-mouthed and started licking her lips in anticipation. I sensed she was becoming aroused by what she was hearing.

Continuing the Victorian analogy, Laura was like a mistress who would talk openly in front of the servants under the assumption they were too stupid to understand what was being said. Except I understood every word, and it scared me to death.

And then Laura remarked to Phoebe, “The last time he was caned, he squealed something awful. I thought the people in the flat above might call the police, thinking someone was being murdered!”

“Oh, gosh... that's a shame, if it means we need to go easier on him this time,” replied Phoebe. I didn't like how she said “we.”

Laura shook her head and laughed, “Good grief, no! We just find a way of stopping him screaming.”

“Er... you mean we... we gag him? Gosh! What a good idea!”

With a smile, Laura nodded. “What we need is something small that will fit in his mouth. Have you any ideas, Phoebe?”

Phoebe looked puzzled and glanced around the room. “I can't see anything, Laura.”

“Can you not think of anything small we could use? Something small and very personal to you?”

It was a light bulb moment for Phoebe. “Oh, gosh, you don't mean...? Yes, you do, don't you? You mean my panties? Whoa!”

Laura returned a broad smile. “They seem suitable and will serve as a very apt reminder of why he's being punished. Slip them off, Phoebe.”

Phoebe was wearing a short skirt. I watched, mortified, as she stood up, discreetly reached up inside her skirt and pulled down and removed her tights, and then her black satin panties.

It seemed wrong—taboo even—that they should be used to gag me, but the decision was not mine to take.

But then Phoebe seemed to have second thoughts. “Is this legal, what we're doing?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“We're not going to get done for assault, are we?”

“No! It's consensual. But we can ask Stevie's permission if it puts your mind at rest.” Laura looked at me, asking very formally, “Do you agree to being gagged and receiving six strokes of the cane on your bare buttocks for your grievous offence six years ago?”

She was giving me a choice! But was it really a choice? “Er... I accept that I did wrong, Miss,” I replied, without committing myself.

“Obviously, you did wrong,” Laura said, shaking her head in despair. “That's not up for discussion. But do you agree you need to be severely punished, Stevie, to right that wrong and to teach you not to do anything so stupid ever again?”

“Er... yes, Miss, I agree to being punished.”

“Look at Miss Phoebe and tell her how you need to be punished.”

I hesitated. How could I be expected to address my sister as “Miss Phoebe”?

“We're waiting, muffin... Our patience has limits.” My sister, now fully onboard with the situation, nodded in agreement.

“Er... I agree to receiving six of the best, Miss... er... Miss Phoebe. And I agree to being gagged with your... er... panties to muffle my cries.” Smiles broke out across both girls' faces, which I found disconcerting.

Laura took the panties from Phoebe. “Open wide, poppet.” I felt a strange sense of relief that she was back to calling me “poppet.” I still had to endure the cane, but perhaps the end of the frostiness of the past two weeks was in sight.

Balling the panties up, she thrust them into my oral cavity. Phoebe's tights were then wrapped around my head to secure the undies in place. Deliberately, I assumed, the gusset of her pantyhose was positioned under my nose.

My senses were soon assailed by the taste and scent of Phoebe's sexual excitement. If, up to now, I had had any doubts that Phoebe saw my imminent caning purely as a judicial punishment for a past crime, then those doubts were now removed. Clearly, my sister had been mightily turned on by the thought of what was to happen—sufficiently turned on to drench her knickers and tights with her juices. She tasted and smelt different to Laura, but, nonetheless, her secretions provided me with some distraction from the ordeal I was sure lay ahead.

And it would be an ordeal, because I knew Laura was just as aroused as Phoebe. I dreaded to think what was to happen with the pair of them acting together, but I was soon to find out...

oooOOooo

“We need to get on,” urged Laura, eagerly. “We'll punish him in the kitchen. In you go, poppet!”

Like a lamb going to the slaughter, I led the way into the kitchen. Laura cleared stuff off the table and said, “Take your knickers off and bend over the table, muffin. Put your arms above your head and grip the end of the table.”

I did so, and then she used her feet to push my legs apart, leaving me very exposed and very vulnerable.

“Can I... can I have a go as well, Laura?” asked my sister, diffidently.

“Sorry?”

“Can I have a go with the cane as well?”

“Er... yes, I don't see why not. Have you done it before, Phoebe?”

“No, but we all have to learn, Laura.”

“Yeah, you're right. But I'll have to show you what to do. There's a technique. Remember, we're punishing him, not trying to cut him into pieces.” Both girls laughed, which I thought was uncalled for.

“Wait here while I get the cane, Phoebe.” Laura disappeared into the bedroom leaving me alone with my sister.

“You're going to regret ever touching my clothes, Stephanie. I'm going to make you pay, you little bastard.” She almost spat the words out. Gagged as I was, there was nothing I could do except attempt a muffled apology for my past actions. Fortunately, before my sister could spout more venom, Laura came back with the rattan cane.

“Whoa! Look at that! No waaaay!” Phoebe's excitement was palpable. This was getting worrying.

“I'll have to show you what to do, Phoebe. I was taught by a former boyfriend who was a masochist, so I got plenty of practice. He told me what I was doing right and what I was getting wrong.”

“Is Stephanie a masochist?”

Laura snorted, “Good God, no! Masochists love pain. Stevie hates it.”

“Oh! That's good to know! We would hardly be punishing him if he enjoyed it.”

“Exactly!” agreed Laura. “Stay there, sweetie, and don't move,” she commanded. “I'll take your sister into the bedroom so she can practice on a cushion.”

I did as I was told. I couldn't hear much of what they were saying to one another, but I heard plenty of swishes and thumps as the cane smashed into some wretched cushion. I felt myself wincing at each stroke, imagining it was my bottom being struck.

The lesson seemed to take ages. Whilst the waiting was playing havoc with my nerves, nonetheless I tried to console myself by thinking at least Phoebe was receiving some training.

Eventually, they came back. Laura had something in her hand, and it wasn't the cane. I realised it was a lipstick.

“I'll draw two lines across his bum, Phoebe. We're not to cane above or below those lines. The bit in between is the flabby bit that can take the punishment. Understood?”

“Okay. I'll try not to, Laura.”

“I mean it, Phoebe! We're not trying to maim him.”

I felt lines being scribed across my bottom, at the top of my bum crack, and at the bottom of my bum crease.

“Watch me,” advised Laura. She rested the cane on my flesh, just below the top line. Then she gave a couple of gentle taps before lifting the cane and bringing it down with what seemed to be tremendous force. The gag stifled my screams as I experienced the initial red-hot poker effect, followed a few seconds later by the more prolonged burning sensation.

“Whoa! My turn! My turn!” urged Phoebe.

“We need to wait a few more seconds, Phoebe. The punishment is less effective if the strokes are administered too soon after one another.”

“Right, we wouldn't want that, would we?” Phoebe laughed.

There was a pause while I processed the pain and then I felt the cane rubbing against my skin. I sensed that Laura was guiding Phoebe's hand to bring the instrument to the right starting spot. Then, suddenly, the cane was raised and brought down at colossal speed. It was like a knife going through butter.

Phoebe grunted as she delivered the stroke, reminiscent of a female tennis player delivering an ace serve. The pain was unbelievable, and I was soon to learn why.

“Hmmm... your aim needs to improve a little,” explained Laura. “The strokes need to be parallel, but you've overlapped my stripe.”

“Oooh! That must hurt more,” replied Phoebe.

“Yes, but let's try to avoid that. Eh? So, try again.”

She did and her next stroke apparently avoided the previous two, but was still agonising.

“Now try to do the same again,” Laura patiently explained.

“Gosh! This is so exciting, isn't it?”

“Yes, but concentrate on what you're doing.”

The fourth stroke burnt into my buttocks.

“Well done, that was good,” concluded Laura. “I'll do the next and then you can do the last.”

Laura delivered the fifth stroke and it seemed to me to be more controlled, and less powerful, than Phoebe's. All the same, it was extremely distressing and, were it not for the gag, I would have been screaming out. As it was, tears had welled up in my eyes.

Phoebe lined up for the final stroke, with Laura checking that it would hit just above the lower lipstick line.

The cane was raised, and it came down with a swoosh. Aarrgh! It missed the intended target and bit into my thighs, where there was less fat to soften the blow. The pain was unimaginably severe, and I bit down hard on her panties.

“Ooops,” Phoebe casually remarked. “I seem to have missed.”

“Yes, you did,” said Laura, with a degree of exasperation. “I did say keep within the lines.”

“Sorry, Laura. I've still got some learning to do, haven't I? More practice needed, I suppose.”

For a moment, I thought that she was going to convince Laura that she needed to deliver further strokes, but Laura had decided I had been sufficiently punished. “Not today, though. He's been properly punished, hasn't he?”

“Hmm... If you say so,” replied Phoebe.

oooOOooo

My caning complete, I was told to stand up, something I struggled to do. Laura undid the tights that held my gag in place, saying “Take your sister's panties out of your mouth, muffin.”

I removed the sodden garment and looked inquisitively at Laura, who read my mind. “Miss Phoebe won't want them back in that state, will she? You'll have to wash them... after you've had your quiet time.”

“Quiet time?” asked my sister, looking puzzled.

“Yes, he now needs to face the wall for a while to reflect on his wrongdoings. And then he can thank you for caning him and apologise to you for what he did six years ago, Phoebe. Wait with him while I fetch his handcuffs.” She went through to the bedroom.

“I hope that taught you a lesson, you nasty little bastard, but I doubt it has,” snarled my sister, in a hushed whisper. “Don't think I've finished with you.”

“I'm really sorry for what I did, Miss,” I pleaded. Laura came back into the kitchen holding my cuffs, unaware of what had just been said. She quickly secured my wrists behind my back, before propelling me to face the wall.

She then addressed Phoebe. “So, how was that? Has caning Stevie helped you?”

“Oh, God, yes! It was so good! It's released loads of the tension that's built up inside me over the past six years. And... and it was exhilarating!”

“Exhilarating?”

“Yes, exhilarating!”

“Hmm... I think I know what you mean, Phoebe.”

“It was a cathartic experience,” explained my sister. “I feel cleansed and purified. It's as if a weight has been lifted off me. Did it excite you, Laura? I'm still very roused.”

“Yes, it, er... er... roused me too!” replied Laura. There was a pause before she added, “But what do you actually mean by roused? You don't mean a-roused, do you?”

“Hmm... perhaps I do, Laura!” Phoebe laughed. “It was arousing and I feel... er... I feel like I'm on a high. I'm buzzing.”

“So am I, Phoebe. I'm begging for it!” Laura giggled. “Are you?”

It was Phoebe's turn to titter. “Oh, God, yes! So am I!” Then her voice dropped to a whisper, but I could still hear. “Somehow, it's... it's made me really randy, Laura. I need to, er... no, I can't say what I need to do!”

Phoebe was babbling, and Laura giggled to put her at ease, “I do know what you're trying to say, Phoebe. And I think we should do something about it—together—in the bedroom?”

“What? No, no! I'm engaged, what would my fiance think?”

“How would he know?”

Phoebe took no convincing. “Oh, my God, yeah, you're right. He wouldn't know and what harm could it do?”

“No harm at all. It's not much different to what we girls do on our own, with our rabbits. You go into the bedroom, and I'll be there in a moment when I've sorted Stevie out.”

I knew what they were planning. I should have been angry but instead it was turning me on. Despite the throbbing from my wheals, I felt my penis engorging as it struggled within the confines of its cage.

“Sorry about this, sweetie, but it's not only boys who have needs and get build-up and feel pressure—it's girls as well. It's not all about you, sweetheart. You can't always be the centre of attention. But I'll let you have a treat while you wait here.”

I heard rustling and soon learnt she had whipped her knickers off. “Pin these to the wall with your nose, muffin. Don't let them drop or you won't get them back.”

Her panties were sodden with her secretions. She was massively turned on. I didn't know how long I would have to stay facing the wall, but I had no intention of letting her knickers fall. If they did, then wearing cuffs I could never pick them up again, depriving me of her heavenly scent. No way would I let them go.

I heard her hasten into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. What was being said between the pair I've no idea, but soon I was hearing squeals and moans, and then expletives, all accompanied by creaks from the bed. Even without breathing in the smell of her panties, what I was hearing would have turned me on. Listening to two girls making love was a new experience for me and a powerful one. So painful was the discomfort from my willy that I was able to forget about the pain from my buttocks.

After an age, the bedroom door opened again. “Turn around, muffin,” Laura called. I let the panties fall to the floor and I swivelled around. Laura was completely naked, while Phoebe was dressed in a fluffy bathrobe, beneath which I was sure she was also naked.

“What do you say to Miss Phoebe, sweetheart?”

I felt myself blushing. So much had happened in such a short period of time, I couldn't take it in. “We're waiting,” Laura urged.

“Er... thank you for caning me, Miss Phoebe. I... I deserved to be punished for what I did to you when I was sixteen. Will you please forgive me?”

Phoebe looked at me but said nothing. Laura started to look alarmed. “What do you say, Phoebe? You forgive him, don't you? Please say you do.”

“Er... I suppose so.”

That was all she said, and it was said half-heartedly. Somehow, I didn't believe her, but Laura was smiling and looking satisfied. “Job well done, and we're all happy,” she said, giving me a wink. If only...