The Intern

When my hour of humiliation at the mall was finally over, Miss Alison offered Miss Pamela a ride home.  Miss Pamela turned to me and "I guess I'm finished with you then."  Of course before leaving I had to kiss the shoes of each young lady and thank them once again for putting me in my place. 

On the ride home, I went over the events of the evening in my mind.  I couldn't believe I had allowed myself to be worked over like that by a pair of the so-called inferior sex.  Then I thought of their wonderful curves and how they smelled as I scurried around debasing myself for them.  Wouldn't you know it - my cock once again pulsated with excitement.  While I was terrified what they might do with the incriminating photos, my fear was of minor consequence when I thought of the exquisite pleasure I felt at the thought of being so owned by Miss Pamela.  When I got home to my apartment, I headed right to the bathroom.  I got on the floor and stroked myself while pretending Miss Pamela was squeezing my balls and forcing me to do things I didn't want to do.

The next few days, Miss Pamela was out of the office on some program they had the interns on.  She returned to the office on a Wednesday and paid me no notice whatsoever.  She was busy in meetings.  Thursday was a day I’ll not soon forget.  Miss Pamela looked red hot, as usual.  She wore a light-gray pants suit with pointy black high heels.  Once again she looked like the consummate professional.  Apparently Rebecca Adams had a big presentation and Pamela was involved.  She ignored me for much of the morning until I sneezed.  I heard her voice and turned around. 

"Need a tissue, Rick?" she asked and smiled that devilish smile at me. 

She was gone again in the afternoon, I assume at Rebecca’s presentation.  Late in the day I saw her walking with Rebecca and her assistant Jamie Sanders.  The three ladies looked very proud of themselves as they chatted amongst one another. 

Pamela sat back at her desk.  I knew better than to bother her without permission.  Then, I noticed the little letter icon in the lower right corner of my computer, indicating I had an email.  It was from an unknown hotmail address.  There was an attachment.  First I read the email.  It said, "Open this while nobody is looking.  It's amazing what 8 mega-pixels can show, huh?  PS: Get your owned a$$ to the parking lot at 5:00 sharp.  -MP."

I scanned the room to make sure nobody was around before opening the attachment.  The title was "wanker1.jpg."  It was my greatest fear.  It was a photograph of me in an incredibly compromising position.  I was naked and on my knees.  My face was bright red with lust and desire.  Looking lower in the photograph, I was pumping furiously on my not-so-impressive dick.   A slender female hand jut in from the left side of the frame holding a tissue in front of my unit.  You could also see the lovely legs of the female tissue-holder, clearly comfortably seated with the beautiful high heels planted firmly on the ground.  The first large gush of cum was clearly visible as it shot into the tissue.

I took a deep gulp and closed the attachment.   It was 4:55.  I had five minutes to gather myself and get ready for whatever Miss Pamela had in mind.  A thrill ran up my spine. 

I went outside and found my mistress sitting in her red jeep, talking on her cell phone.  She made me stand there and wait for a good five minutes while she finished her conversation.  Then she rolled down the window and smiled up at me.

"So what did you think of the photograph, jackass?" she said.

How was I supposed to respond to that?  I had no idea.  So I just grunted something about it being humiliating. 

"Have you already forgotten your place?" she said.  "When I speak to you, you are to answer with total submission in the most humiliating fashion possible.  I guess the lessons I taught you the other day have already been lost by your dull male brain."

"Yes, um, ma'am, I'm sorry, ma'am.  I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

"Better," she said.  "You seem to forget that I have 14 incriminating photos of you, many much more embarrassing for you than the one you just saw.  I’m not afraid to use them if need be, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Miss Pamela.”

“Good, but I think you need additional training,” she smiled again, clearly enjoying lecturing me.  “And I need a cheap servant.  So, follow me."

I followed her to her condo complex.  Unlike me, she was a property owner.  It was a nice two-bedroom condo. 

"Let's get down to business," she said, putting her bag down and plopping her cute little body on the couch.  "Get on your back, on the floor and spread your legs."  She pointed to the area directly in front of her on the couch. 

I did as I was told.

She proceeded to plant her left foot directly onto my package and stomped down as though she was putting out a cigarette with her lovely heel.  I felt the pain and grunted. 

"Nothing like a good ballbusting to relieve the stress of a long day," she said.  "What do you say?"

"Thank y-Ugh, you, for busting me, Miss Pamela, Ooof,"

"That's right," she said. "Ok, here's what's going to happen, I'm going to go in the other room and change.  Notice, I'm going to change PRIVATELY, like a dignified person, as opposed to you, who is going to be COMPLETELY exposed for my viewing pleasure.  You will NEVER see MY private parts, but yours will be displayed in the most humiliating fashion imaginable, and believe me dork, I have a great fucking imagination."

"Yes Miss Pamela," I said.

"Don't forget it.  So, when I go slip an outfit of MY CHOOSING, here's what YOU'RE going to do without hesitation," she instructed.  "You're going to strip down to nothing, but leave your socks on and your undershirt.  That way I don't have to look at your disgusting hairy upper body while you clean my condo.  GOT IT?"

"Yes Miss Pamela, thank you Miss Pamela," I said as submissively as possible.

"Oh and one last thing," she said, removing the elastic that held back her glorious flaxen hair in a ponytail. "I want you to wrap this tightly around your PENIS and your ballbag.”  And when I say tightly, I mean double it up so your junk can't escape.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good! When you're ready, kneel on the floor in front of my CLOSED door and wait for me."  And with that she flicked her elastic hair bun like a slingshot.  I think she was trying to hit my balls but instead it flew high and hit me in the forehead.  She just laughed and went into her bedroom. 

I did as told and positioned myself on my knees in front of her bedroom.  Then I wrapped the hair bun around the base of my cock/balls and doubled it up.  It was fairly painful because it restricted some of the blood flow to my male parts.  I’m sure that’s what she had in mind.  When I thought of my predicament and the gorgeous little woman ordering me around, my penis quickly inflated and throbbed.

After several minutes the door opened and out walked Miss Pamela looking as juicy as ever.  She was wearing a pink suede jumpsuit.  It hugged her glorious curves.  Since I was on my knees the first thing I saw was her delicious midsection – that hump where her glorious jewel hid behind the fabric.  That was right before she laughed and proceeded to kick my exposed ball sack with her bare foot.  Because my balls were trapped by the elastic hair bun, they had no place to “escape” to when her little foot crashed into them.  Fortunately I think she knew that and it wasn’t a full force punt, but I still collapsed in agony. 

She looked down at me and said, “get up!”  To assist the process she reached down and grabbed my ear.  She took me around her condo and explained all the things I was to clean while she watched TV and caught up with her gal pals on the phone. “When you’re done, I’m going to inspect your work, and if I don’t like what I see, I can be VERY vindictive,” she said.  

My next hour was spent cleaning her kitchen, and bathroom, much of the time on my hands and knees.  I also vacuumed the entire condo.  From time to time she would get up and check on my progress.  While I did the dishes, I felt a pair hands come up behind me and it was Miss Pamela.  With her right hand, she cradled my balls in her fingertips.  With her left hand, she lightly stroked my penis.  I immediately went rigid with pleasure.  She whispered in my ear, “You’re doing a very good job.  I’m proud of you.  Keep it up.”  With that she gave my balls a light squeeze, just enough to remind me who was boss.  Then she went back to watching her show.  I think it was Gilmore Girls. 

While I was in the process of cleaning her toilet, she came into the bathroom and asked if I was done with the kitchen.  “Yes ma’am” was all I said. 

She pushed me up against the wall and said, “Are you fucking kidding me?  Look at the floor.” Again she grabbed my ear and escorted me to her kitchen.  She showed me a spot I had missed on the floor.  “You may keep your little shit-hole dirty, but in here you better have higher standards.”  With that she held my chin with one hand and proceeded to slap my face several times with the other. 

“I’m sorry Miss (SLAP) Pamela.  It won’t happen (SLAP) again.”

“It better not happen again.  Look jacktard, I don’t like having to take time from MY show to bitch slap you.” 

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am,” was all I said.  She slapped me so hard that tears welled up in my eyes.  I hurried to clean the spot I had missed. 

When I was finished, I got on my knees and held my hands out in a submissive posture in front of her.  She was on the phone and proceeded to ignore me for the next few minutes.  Then wrapping up, she told whomever she was talking to, “So you know that pervert I was telling you about?  Yeah, well he’s right here on the floor in front of me.  I just made him clean my condo - naked.”  She laughed and I could hear laughing through the other end of the phone line.  

“Say hi, naked moron,” she held the phone out to me.  “That’s my friend Samantha.  You are to refer to her by her proper title since she is a superior female.”

“Hi Miss Samantha,” I said.

“Hi naked pervert,” I heard a cute voice on the other end of the line.

“Tell Miss Samantha what you look like right now,” Miss Pamela ordered.

“Miss Samantha, I’m (gulp) naked, except for my t-shirt and my socks and a little elastic around my, um, penis and balls.”

I heard uproarious laughter and then, “That’s great, idiot, now put Pam back on the phone.” 

I did as I was told and Pam finished her conversation up.  She turned to me and said “Some day if you’re lucky you’ll get to meet Sam and she can watch you do stupid things to yourself.  But today is my day to deal with you one on one.”  Her eyes lowered toward my crotch, which was still fully engorged.  My balls were shades of blue from her earlier teasing. 

“So I suppose you want to WHACK OFF for me,” she said.

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded my head vigorously.  

“You realize it will have to be done under my complete supervision, right?” She taunted me, knowing fully well that by now I understood the implications of my orgasms when she was involved. 

“First I have to do something with you.  Follow me to the bathroom.  CRAWL.”  She pointed to the ground.

She walked to her bathroom and I crawled behind her.  She pulled some ladies shaving cream and a new razor out.  “I think it’s high time I shave your penis and balls,” she said. 

I didn’t like the idea of getting shaved, but I loved the idea of her performing the deed.  She sat on the edge of the tub and ordered me to climb in and lie on my back in the tub. She had me remove the elastic hairbun, which caused a great deal of pain.  Then she sprayed her pink gel shaving cream down at my stiff member and said “lather yourself up.  DON’T get too excited or I’ll smash your balls into the ground, is that understood?”

“Yes Miss Pamela.”

Once I had my crotch fully lathered she reached down and began to shave the area above my dick.  Of course, my stiff penis got in the way and she gave it a couple of playful slaps, which made it even stiffer.  Pre-come had begun oozing from the tip.  “Move your little dicky out of the way,” she demanded.  I did as I was told and she completed the task.  In order to rinse the blade, she had to turn on the cold water and it splashed down near my head, causing me to give a groan of surprise.  Miss Pamela just laughed and ordered me to “be still.” 

Once she completed that area, she said “I think your balls need a good shaving as well.  Spread your legs.”  With that I was forced to lather up my aching orbs.  Then my owner reached down between my legs with her tiny fingers and wrapped the base of my nut sack between her thumb and forefinger, effectively putting into a tight vise.  She looked down at me, smiling, and said, “There’s something about securing a fully grown man by his balls.  It gives a girl a great feeling of power and control.”

I could have sworn her voice had grown throaty.  I never would have said anything to challenge her authority, but I think my mistress was getting off on dominating me. 

She shaved my balls thoroughly.  The feeling was fantastic.  I could see from the look of concentration on her pretty face that she was really enjoying herself. 

When the job was complete, she put her razor down and said, “I’m sorry, dork, but,” she let out a big sigh, “I feel a strong urge to crack down on you right now.”  With that she began flicking my balls with her free hand, while continuing to secure my balls in a vise like grip with the other.  She flicked my balls good and hard – her intent was to cause pain – which she most certainly did.  Each time she flicked my exposed sack, she let out a triumphant female groan.  I let out my own groan, of male pain and resignation. 

This went on for a good five minutes.  It was an incredibly intimate moment.  Our voices made almost a symphony.  Female pleasure combined with male agony.  I couldn’t take it any longer.

“P-p (ughhhh) Mistress Pamela, I’ve (ahhhhhhhh) learned my lesson.  Please, I’m (oof) begging you!”

She seemed to heed my pleas.  She stopped and looked down on me.  “Alright, I suppose I’ve made my point.  Get up.”

With that I got up out of the tub.  She sat on the toilet and ordered me down on the ground in front of her.  “I suppose you want to jack off now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then SAY IT!”

“Miss Pamela, please give me the honor of jacking off in front of you.”

“Here,” she said, pulling off a wad of toilet paper.  “You know the drill.”

I began pumping away.  I looked at her sitting Indian-style on the toilet and snuck a peak at her glorious crotch area.  I could have sworn I saw the tiniest spot of moisture coming from her source of power.  With that I completely lost it and blasted one of the most amazing loads of my life. 

Pam, herself, was caught by surprise.  “That’s it, pump it all out.  Don’t stop!  That’s a good jacktard.” 

She moved the disgusting cum tissue toward my face.  “Open wide, it’s feeding time.”

I was completely spent and deflated as I sat on the floor in front of my mistress.  I think it had been just about the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced.  Now, just like the other day, my cruel tormenter was forcing me to ingest my own splooge as though I was some kind of animal.

I could feel the vestiges of male pride rising up in me.  Having shot my load, I was satisfied and no longer as eager to please Miss Pamela.

She pushed the tissue down toward my face and said "Time for your protein frappe.  Now EAT UP!"

I hesitated.  This would cost me dearly.  Unfortunately for me, I was in no position to hesitate.  I was in a very vulnerable position, legs spread wide apart on Miss Pamela's cold bathroom floor.  My back was up against the wall, and I was still winded from my incredible climax from moments ago.  My reflexes were dulled. 

With surprising quickness, Miss Pamela seized control of the situation - and me - as she had done since the first day we crossed paths.  Her leg shot out and her bare foot stomped down on my still hard penis, trapping it against the floor.  This forced me to lean forward so that the appendage between my legs that was the source of so much pleasure would not be damaged.  I shouted in pain.  Miss Pamela was now above me.  Once again, she grabbed my ear with her free hand.  Between her foot pinning my prized maleness to the floor and her fingers pinching down on my earlobe, I was going nowhere.

"I see you still haven't learned.  When I tell you to do something, you DO IT," she said, looking down at me with complete authority.  She put all her weight on the foot that trapped my penis, causing me howl and say "Yes Mistress Pamela. OHHHH!"

She continued "Eating your load should be considered a privilege - it means I've allowed you to pleasure yourself, which you should NEVER take for granted."

"Yes mistress."

"I realize you just got your rocks off and your spunk probably tastes gross.  BUT I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.  It gives me great satisfaction to force you to do it and you’re only focus should be to satisfy me and any woman that crosses your path.  Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

"Yes Miss Pamela."

"Good, now look into my eyes.”  I complied.  “Eat it!” She looked down at me with a look that could best be described as pure triumph.  With that, she forced the tissue onto my tongue, while pinching my ear and putting her weight back on my cock, just so there would be no further defiance on my part.  And there wasn't.  I eagerly licked up the contents of the tissue.  It took a while to get through it.  While I ate, my mistress smiled down at me with pure triumph and added to my humiliation by saying "That's it, eat every drop, loser.  Do it for your mistress." 

I kept licking until I was eventually licking up bits of tissue, which stuck on my tongue.  "Don't stop until I say so, cumeater," she said. Finally, satisfied I had completed the task, she made sure I thanked her, which of course I did without hesitation.

My reward was a firm kick in my already sore balls, which caused me to roll around the floor in pain. 

Miss Pamela left the room for a while, while I recovered.  When she returned, I did not at all like what was in her hands.  It was a large fraternity style paddle and the implications were clear.

"I ordered this from a catalogue the other day," Miss Pamela said as she tapped the scary implement on the palm of her hand.  "I figured I'd need to use it on you at some point and your disobedience has given me just the excuse I need.  GET UP."

I got up, while muttering "oh no" under my breath.  Miss Pamela heard me and said "oh yes!  That's right, you're going to get your bare ass spanked, and hard.  Stand in front of my bathroom mirror."

I did as told and she immediately lined up the cool wooden paddle against my backside.  It had full coverage. 

She lectured me, "You've come a long way since we first met.  You're learning your place.  But you're clearly not there yet.  You need additional male training, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then beg for it!  You see, this is exactly what I'm talking about.  Your weak male brain only responds to threats and discipline.  Why do you think you goof off all day at work?"

"I don't know, ma'am."

"Of course you don't know.  You're a typically stupid inferior male.  And now you're going to get your ass paddled by a superior woman.  Now wiggle your ass around and beg."

I began shaking my ass, which caused my frontal parts to flop around.  As if things weren't bad enough for me to begin with.  "Please, Miss Pamela, spank my ass! Teach me a lesson," 

She didn't hesitate.  The first crack was a shock to my system.  It felt like someone had held a hot frying pan to my ass.  I yelled in pain and said "Thank you, ma'am."

WHAP! "That's it, thank me after each one." 

For the next several minutes, Miss Pamela steadily paddled my ass.  At times, she moved down my thighs, which hurt just as badly.  In no time, the pain became excruciating.  My knees bent, my ass moved around in a futile effort to avoid the pain.  I began begging her.  "Thank you ma'am, please ma'am I learned my less WHAP- Thank y'ow, please please," I begged.  But she wouldn't stop.  I saw her face in the mirror and it was a look of complete feminine determination on it as she delivered my punishment.  Finally, when I felt on the verge of a total breakdown, she stopped.  I was sweaty and unsteady on my feet.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Miss Pamela said.  "Turn around and let's take a look."  I turned so my ass was facing her bathroom mirror.  It was bright red.  Some small welts had come up at the very tip of my buns.  Miss Pamela admired her dirty work, "That looks like it must be very painful."  She gave each bun a slap with her bare hand, causing me to flinch.

"Yes ma'am, it hurts," I gasped.

Disregarding my comment, Miss Pamela said, "Open that drawer for me," she pointed to the drawer in front of him.  He opened it, revealing a small, but sturdy oval hairbrush.  She smiled at me.

"You didn't think I was finished, did you?  That was just a warm-up."  She took the hairbrush and again, as she so often did, grabbed me by my ear.  "I'm afraid we need to continue this in the other room."

With that, she dragged me into the other room and sat down on the couch.  She pointed to her lap and said, "Time to take you over my knee and spank you like the little boy you are." 

Well, she had put the fear of god in me so I quickly climbed over her lap.  Inside I was thinking "oh my god, what has happened to me?  I'm being treated like an eight year old by a woman ten years younger than me."  It was too much to comprehend.  I began sobbing even before she delivered the first blow from the hairbrush. 

"I know, this must really be a jolt to your little male brain," she said.  A petite woman like me dominating you physically and sexually.  But I think you know this is what you need," she said almost sympathetically.

"I realize this is little consolation, but I think in time you'll look forward to female discipline because it's good for you.  And deep inside you want it."

I just sobbed.  I couldn't believe this was happening.  My ass was searing with pain.  "Give me your right hand," she said.  I complied and she pinned it behind my back while pinching her knees together and trapping my flaccid penis firmly between them.  The velvety feeling of her little thighs squeezing down on my most sensitive body part sent a little shock of pleasure through my body.  I went stiff momentarily. 

Then the first perfectly placed blow from her hairbrush came crashing down in the most tender part of my left butt cheek.  Because of the way she held me, I couldn't move.  My only response was to kick my leg almost convulsively. 

She spoke: "You can cry all you want, but I'm not going to stop spanking you until I'm completely satisfied you've reached a new level of submission to me.  Like I said, this is for your own good."

With that, she smacked the other cheek in the most tender part.  Then the barrage commenced.  Back and force from left cheek to right cheek, the paddle coming down in the same tender spot on each cheek.  SMACK! SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!SMACK! 

I sobbed loudly. I was way past the point of begging.  The only thing I could do was cry and groan and kick up my legs in agony.  Finally, I even stopped kicking.  My entire existence became my flaming ass.  Each blow went straight from my ass to my brain center, informing me that the person delivering the pain was my master and conquerer.  I opened my mouth and I wailed, not like a little boy anymore, but an infant. 

At last, the punishment ended.  "Stand up," I heard her say.  I jumped to my feet in front of her, but could not stand still.  I jumped around, grabbing my ass and crying "owwwwwwwwwww."

Miss Pamela sat, holding the brush in her hand, a look of complete satisfaction on her face.  "Ok, I know it hurts.  Now kneel in front of me."  I immediately kneeled on the floor in front of her and put my hands out in submissive posture.  Since she was sitting, we were at eye level.  I was still bawling.

She leaned forward, "Well, I'd say you learned a hard lesson tonight," she said.  "Want to tell me what you learned?"

"I learned to obey you no matter what, ma'am," I said. "I'll never hesitate again, ma'am, I promise," I sobbed. 

"That's good," she said.  "And the next time you're given permission to jerk out one of your loser loads in my presence, will we have any problems?"

"No ma'am, next time I'll beg you for the honor of eating my spunk for your enjoyment. I promise!"  I couldn't believe the words coming from my mouth. 

"Excellent," she said.  "I think we've made some good progress tonight.  I'm knew some one on one training would be good for you."

"Yes ma'am, thank you for the lessons ma'am." 

"Believe me, it's my pleasure.  I told you I take great joy in putting you in your proper place.  Now, before I dismiss you for the evening, you need to know about an upcoming event that will require your attendance."

"Yes ma'am?" I asked with a degree of trepidation.

"This Sunday, I'm having some guests over my condo," she said.  "All women of course.  My friend Samantha who you spoke to on the phone will be joining us.  Allison from the mall. You remember her, I assume?  Well she's bringing along her friend Katie - supposedly Katie's a hoot - and Katie has an exchange student visiting from Europe - I forget where.  They know all about you.  The four of them will be here, fully clothed, of course, which is more than I can say for you."

I gulped and my face turned red.  But I said nothing.

"That's right, you'll be responsible for serving and entertaining us.  Needless to say, I expect complete deference from you.  These are SUPERIOR females, which means you are to absolutely fawn on them and respect their authority under any and all circumstances.  Do I make myself abundantly clear," she said.

"Yes ma'am."  I was crying again.  It was humiliating enough being exposed like this in front of Pamela, but FIVE WOMEN?  I was completely mortified.

Picking up on my reticence, Pamela said, "I know, it promises to be an afternoon of excruciating humiliation for you.  But I think you'll enjoy it.  And if you don't, I really don't give a shit.  Don't think I won't send out photographs.  Rick Senior and Mary (she referred to my parents - I had no idea how she knew that) would get a real kick out of seeing you whack your little pud.  And I'll bet your younger sister Amy would get quite a jolt out of seeing you being force-fed a cum-soaked tissue," she laughed. 

"Oh my god, yes ma'am, whatever you and your lady friends want, I will do it," I said.

"Good," she beamed up at me.  "You're learning.  Now get dressed and get out.  I'm finished with you for today."

"Thank you ma'am," I said and I hurried on out of there.