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Chapter 12 by baggo baggo

What's next?

Go somewhere you can be truly anonymous to answer the riskiest questions.

The women go to the kitchen, while the man of the house kneels and wipes up your cum with a towel. There is a heavy tension in the room but little of it seems directed at you. Still, you've punished these people enough, and the voices have quieted, so maybe you have time to put a little distance between yourself and your loved ones, neighbors...anyone whose relationship you might damage or care about, really.

You decide to do a day trip. You have a fifty in your pocket and can probably punish your way to a nice destination. Maybe you can punish someone into buying you a plane ticket. You're heading to your car to make straight for the airport when you reconsider your choice of transportation. Parked in the driveway across the street from your place is your new neighbor's carmine red 911 Targa. Everyone noticed the day he moved in because he spent an hour waxing it in the driveway while the movers brought his stuff in. You head for his front door. You're pretty sure he lives alone, but maybe he has a girlfriend you can punish into giving you a lift to the airport in the Porsche with the top down. It feels like a safe move.

You knock on the door.

You hear him approaching the door and realize you don't know what you'll say. It's normal to introduce yourself to a new neighbor. You'll be fine. He opens the door, only he's not the neighbor you saw buffing his sports car in the sun last week. This is a skinny young Vietnamese woman in a pair of khakis with dirty knees and a green tank top that pretty nicely shows off her obvious boob job. She's wearing an apron, and holding a feather duster and a half-full plastic trash bag. Of course, a maid! You can definitely punish her to get a ride to the airport, but what do you punish her for?

"Hello, I'm Thuy!" She smiles at you warmly. "Are you one of Mr. Matterfield's neighbors? I'm afraid he's indisposed at the moment."

"Hi Thuy, I'm John Doe and I'm the GPM." You're about to tell her you don't need Mr. Matterfield, just her misbehaving self, when you remember Felipe's initial reaction when he witnessed you punishing his wife. He kinda freaked out, and you had to come up with new punishments to explain the situation, digging deeper and deeper. He accepted everything eventually, but it was a risky situation.

"Oh, an honor to meet you, Mr. GPM. He's actually on a business call, but those never last more than 30 minutes so he should be wrapping up soon. Would you like to step inside and wait? Can I get you a glass of water?"

You thought this would get simpler and easier, but now you're confused. So far you've been able to punish women for almost anything. You overstep, piss someone off, and punish them for being disrespectful, but this woman has been nothing but sweet and friendly. Can you still punish her for mistreating you? What's more, you're feeling a tiny bit guilty for contemplating punishing this friendly and innocent woman. You're also half-chubbed at the idea, though, and thoughts of guilt and moral obligation are pushed away by the dream of the chance to see her big fake titties. You're rethinking this whole day trip idea when you are surprised by a strange movement in your periphery.

You look past Thuy's balloon tits to the upper corner of the foyer wall behind her, and you almost fall backwards off the front stoop when you see the numbers on the clock morphing to spell out

~PuN15h H3R~

You think fast, anything to stop the voices from returning. "Actually, do you have the time?" You ask Thuy. It's not a punishment, but it's a perfectly normal question right? You gotta find out if she can see this.

Thuy looks over her shoulder at the clock so you stare at her tits, searching for any sign of the nipples that must be straining against her underwear and tight tank top. She turns back around and you hurry to meet her eyes again. What happened? Could she read the clock? Will she be like "It's Punishment Time!" You are suddenly so terrified at the possibilities but she blows all that away with her answer:

"Yeah, it's 11:15," she says pointing at the clock, looking a tiny bit confused how you could've missed it right up there.

"Sure, I'll wait," you say, and the voice practically shouts at you:

PUNISH HER

You forget yourself and jump, replying out loud, at no one in particular, "For what? Why? All she di..."

She looks perturbed. You're making a scene. This was just supposed to be a ride to the airport, where the real questions could be answered, but now you're fucking up your neighborhood relationships even more.

"Is there some kind of trouble?" Thuy is so trusting and friendly, she doesn't even seem worried like the other women did before just you punished them. You can't really help yourself though. These voices have to stop.

"Thuy, I really appreciate your," you wanna say 'tits', but you aren't punishing quite yet so instead you continue, "hospitality, but your offer could have been better." She nods slowly, waiting to hear what this will mean. You're not willing to punish her such that Matterfield will get angry before you can introduce yourself, so you try for something mild. "Your punishment for this is that in the future, you will serve all guests whatever booze you have in the house."

She frowns at this, and though it doesn't sound too bad to you, you do feel that pang of guilt again. Still, the air is quiet and the clock says 11:16 like it ought to, so you relax quite a bit. You perk up a moment later when you see Matterfield walk into the foyer from the back of the house.

"Hello Mr. Matterfield, I'm your neighbor John, the GPM." You aren't giving this any room for screw-ups. He walks up and offers you a hand to shake, which you do.

"Welcome John, what can I do for you today?"

He's cheerful. Finally you feel like this might be the easy, risk-free milk-run you hoped it would be. "Hi, so, I just want you to know, nothing personal, but I've punished your maid here to serve booze to your guests, due to her pretty lackluster attempt at greeting me."

"Wow, alright, that's too bad. It's gonna cost me! If I entertain a lot, I might have to find a new maid!" He could be joking, serious, you can't tell.

"Don't worry about that, neighbor. For not offering to offset the cost of your lost booze, I am punishing Thuy here to not only pay for the booze out of her cleaning wages, but to also handle shopping for your minibar's inventory and to never quit this job unless you ask her to resign." The words spill out of your mouth as unconsciously as the boner you're forming in your pants.

Matterfield seems to think this makes sense. Thuy is solidly frowning now, and you can't help but think she was prettier when she was smiling. Here it goes:

"And for not smiling," you say to her "your punishment shall be to drive me to the Kiss-and-ride at the airport, in your boss's Targa, with the top down and your top off, hair and titties blowing in the wind, smiling the whole way. He'll take the price of the gasoline we use out of your paycheck just like the booze."

She's frowning even more now, that just means she accepted the punishment right? Is there any punishment your victims won't accept?

You clear your throat "*ehm*, bring that booze please, Thuy, and then we'll go straight away."

She leaves to get the booze. Matterfield says "Well, thanks for all you do, GPM. It's good to know we have fair and even-handed folks like yourself in positions of power." What the fuck is he talking about? You never stipulated that he should respect you or anything. If you think about it, his tone kinda matches the respect you first thought was fake in the letter you received. Thuy returns, holding a tray with a whiskey decanter, a glass, and keys to the porche, now wearing nothing above the waist. Her big round tits stick straight out from her chest, with big, flat, brown nipples right in the center.

You take the decanter with you to the passenger seat and leave the rest, telling her, "you're driving."

You watch her titties sway back and forth as she steers you through the neighborhood, and you take a swig of whiskey from the uncorked decanter. It's pretty strong, and her big tits are entertaining. You lean back and keep drinking all the way to the airport, admiring all the scenery and lack of hallucinations.

You snap back to reality somewhere between the airport exit and the Kiss-and-ride. It's the flashing lights in the rearview that did it, and the "wOOP WOOp" of the siren.

A few moments later, a tubby policeman is standing by the side of your car, actually tapping his baton in his hands like it makes his pudgy ass look tough. Oh sit, you got durnk. And you're still holdink that decander. Fuuuuk.

"What in the name of horseshit from heaven is going on here in this car?"

You really wanna think on your feet, but you're sloshed. Thuy is still topless too, and grinning like an idiot, though you see a sad shimmer in her distant eyes.

"Well, you silly rich folks are in a world of trouble that's for sure. Endangering others' lives for the sake of a booze-fueled..." your drunk brain tunes him out. You're in a lot of trouble now. Not only are you still unsure what a real authority figure's reaction to your GPM status will be, you also know that even if her toplessness is accepted, none of your punishments yet have provided any grounds for you to be drinking and driving...

That's it! You're drinking, and she's driving! You're not doing anything wrong!

"She! *hiccup* She's not drinkin', officer sir. Isssjust me and I'm sorry if I offended..."

"I ain't a ffended, ya hooligan, I'm a fuckin' State Trooper. A field sobriety test gon' tell me whether the Misses here is intoxicated, and even if she ain't, which I seriously doubt is the case judging by her ..." he doesn't know how to refer to her toplessness so instead he just stares at it for a few seconds. "...judging by the situation...and even if she ain't intoxicated, it's still against the law to have an open container in your car while y..."

Every time you use your power, the situation gets more complicated, but it also so usually seems like the easiest way out. You're about to hear a list of the charges against the both of you, so instead, you interrupt him.

"I'm shorry, officer, I'm the GPM so I really should handle this." You pick your words carefully, your liquor-addled brain straining to think ahead three moves to everything that could wrong with this. He doesn't object so you continue. "As Thuy's punishment for ... for all the laws that she broke, whatever they are, you know? So, she will, she will offer you some sexual favors to help you forget all about either of our ... both of our infractions ... and um, you will accept it, like, happily. Like, you can drive her home in the cruiser...er back to Mr Mazzerfield's, and she will offer to blow you on the way, and then, that'll seem fair, and I can just go ahead and park this Porsche at the airport myyyyshelf and I will bring it back... tomorrow!" You burp a nasty one.

Is that it? Did you cover your bases? You were kinda rambling, you can't even really remember all the things you just decreed. You see Thuy say something to the cop, and he just shrugs and says "That'll do, you can go now Sir." Thuy gets out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition for you. You are holding your breathe, waiting for the detail you forgot, the loophole that lands you in the state pen. It never comes though, and the cop takes Thuy, in cuffs for some reason you're pretty sure you have nothing to do with, to the passenger seat of his cruiser. She turns one last time to look at you, and you see neither her pretty smile from earlier nor her false one from when your en-route punishment applied. Now, she's glaring daggers at you.

You slide cautiously into the driver's seat, and then it hits you. The problem with your punishment that never even occurred to you. You're way too drunk to park this Porsche.

At least the cop doesn't seem to care. He's pulling back onto the highway and headed for the U-Turn. You pull the car slowly along the shoulder with your hazard lights on. It takes a whole 2 minutes to get to the parking deck turn off this way, and another few minutes to park, but nobody dies or gets arrested so you're satisfied.

You stumble your drunken self to West Terminal's ticketing area. Now, to punish your way into a quick vacation, and hopefully some more complete anonymity.

What's next?

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