Candlepeen Balling

Candlepeen Balling

By James X Pendergrass

Copyright 2014 – All Rights Reserved

Dr. Stanley Gradkowski, Chair of the Mathematics Department at one of the most venerable institutions in the world, stared out the window of his office on a cool late fall day.  The students seemed to get worse and worse every year.  And as far as he was concerned, that was a good thing.    Now almost 44, and, after a meteoric rise, having basically arrived at his station in the world, there were many aspects of his job that had become tiresome.  Lecturing no longer interested him in the least bit.  His books and publications practically wrote themselves.  The only thing Dr. Stanley Gradkowski still got any enjoyment out of was interacting with his students, and when he said interacting with his students, what he meant was interacting with his Female students.

They were the subject of endless fantasy for him.  As brilliant as his mind was when it came to the calculation of numbers, Stanley’s fantasies were a source of confusion and bewilderment.  Stanley had no wife.  He had no girlfriend.  What he had was his Female students and only in the sense of his own imagination since he wouldn’t dare risk his career to have any sort of relationship with one of them.  Would he?  He feared the day was fast approaching.  As he got older, his impulses were becoming less and less controllable.  His male ego needed to prevail over these subversive impulses or he could potentially be ruined. 

In Stanley’s many private moments of self-council, he would remind himself that despite the obvious temptations, he needed to maintain a hard line with his students, especially the “Young Female Cunts, as he liked to call them in private.  Grade grubbing was practically a capital offense and he dealt with such offenders harshly, usually kicking them out of his office at high decibel levels.  You couldn’t be too careful nowadays with the allegations.  So, there would be no relationships in Stanley’s life, other than the imaginary constructs he put in his head regarding certain students of his, the ones that hid those sublime triangles between their thighs, which were the subject of his constant, never-ending fantasy.

Of course, his nature was only to fantasize about it.  He knew he wasn’t a real man.  More than one Dominatrix had reassured him of that fact.  He saw them occasionally when he needed a fix, but it was never enough and the pros seemed to lack a certain romanticism.  Given that most of his time was spent in the vicinity of young, affluent, highly intelligent 18-22 year old Women, he had grown tired of all the local Dommes.  They simply paled in comparison to the sights and smells that confronted him on an almost daily basis. 

This was a particularly interesting time in his career, at least when it came to this topic.  Yesterday he’d had a visit from a Becky Madison.  What a little dish she was!  She came traipsing into his office liked she owned the place and wanted to talk about her B minus on her midterm.  Visions of her taut little body had bounced around Stanley’s head as he’d masturbated so furiously last night.  He shot great fountains of semen as he imagined her standing over him, stepping on his balls with her boots as he strained to peak up her skirt at the white cotton panties that covered that sublime—

He thought of the way she had argued with him in her ultra-hyper, high-pitched voice.  How she stared daggers at him when he told her that grade grubbers were “the lowest form of life,” and ordered her to leave.  Becky Madison was a candidate, for sure.  She seemed to have that confidence.  It was impressive the way she had gathered herself and strode out of his office at the end of their confrontation.  

You have to keep these little cunts down, he urged himself.  Don’t give in.  Don’t let them get the upper hand.  They will be ruthless!   The very thought of how ruthless they would be only made his urges worse.  His stomach churned as he wondered how he may summon the strength to deal with the developing situation. 

A few minutes ago, the email had come in from the most spectacular and commanding young Woman Stanley had ever laid eyes upon.  Her name was Alaina  Brower and she was requesting an appointment with Stanley the next day to discuss her midterm, which she had received a C+ on.   Stanley was quite aware of the fact that Alaina and Becky Madison appeared to be friends.  They sat together in the far back corner of his class, with Soraya Chozas, the Spanish Goddess, who always wore those spandex pants that made it almost impossible not to look.

Alaina Brower, on the other hand, was downright intimidating with her British accent and those penetrating eyes that seemed to understand everything, despite the fact that she was a mediocre student.  Stanley felt a lump in his throat to go with his accelerated heartbeat.  She always had a serious look on her face.  Stanley had masturbated to that serious look on countless occasions.  Stanley took a deep breath.  He would have to be stronger than he had ever been if he wanted to hold the line on the likes of Alaina Brower.  He could feel his own knees getting  weak as he thought about it.  

XXXXX

Alaina had a theory about a male.  And not just any male.  Her two besties always said she had a certain instinct about subbies that went beyond the usual.  “It’s totally paranormal,” Becky said, leaning forward to sip her iced tea.  “It’s like you have magic powers or something.”

The three young Women were at the Chestnut Hill Cheesecake factory.  Since the new school year started two and a half months ago, rumors were swirling about Alaina, Becky and Soraya.  It was not unusual to be unusual in the school in which they attended.  Most of the students were extraordinary in one way or another.  In the case of these three girls, it was about the way they went about their business – always spending time amongst each other, often seen with older, sometimes strange-looking men, always doing something off campus – that stoked the flames of speculation. 

One theory had it that they were a part of some kind of lesbian love triangle.  Another theory had them involved in illegal activity.  None of the many college boys brave enough to approach them had any luck, and so the rumors swirled.  Normally the boys would forget about three up-tight bitches and go after the other fish in the pond, but the other fish didn’t look as good as these three beautiful fish. 

From the outside, Alaina (“Don’t call me Lanie”) seemed the leader of the group.  Alaina had taken a year off between high school and college and had lived by herself in a flat in London where she supported herself in ways her parents could only wonder about, while proving a point to them.  When her daddy pressed her about how she made ends meet, she told him her profession was her own business and that she promised him she was not a prostitute nor an exotic dancer, nor was she doing anything illegal.  He didn’t appreciate the girl’s her evasiveness but she left him little recourse; she was an adult according to the law.  Plus it was blatantly obvious to him that his daughter was more than capable of holding her own. 

Alaina’s profession afforded her plenty of free time, which she used primarily to hone her craft, reading books on body language and human psychology.  She developed an innate ability to read minds and understand personal motivations, especially when it came to the opposing gender.   Alaina had a fanciness about her.  Her family was wealthy.  She always wore almost-but-not-quite too much makeup.  Her eyes were impossibly big and blue and augmented by long thick lashes.  Her lips were very narrow across and quite thick and always painted bright red, almost always pursed together in contemplation as the eyes darted around the room.  Her mouth gave her an appropriately severe look that jibed with her personality.  Alaina never seemed to smile and yet she was so breathtakingly gorgeous.  She loved to wear tight Roberto Cavalli-brand jeans that hugged her curvaceous body.  That was the thing about Alaina – she had a Woman’s body.  Not chubby, mind you, but a robust quality to her five foot eight inch frame.   The highlight, of course, was the long, flowing blonde hair.  Alaina’s hair was naturally brown, but nobody knew this. 

Soraya was born in Spain but her family moved to America when she was two years old.  She spoke with the tiniest remnant of a Spanish accent, but her behavior was more American in nature.  She wore leggings, virtually all the time.  This was significant because Soraya had arguably the most spectacular slender figure in the entire University.  She was only a half inch shorter than Alaina, and she weighed 20 pounds less.   From behind, her legs seemed longer than they actually were and they fused so beautifully to her tight little teenage ass.  It was said that her ass had caused two different accidents on campus, one involving two cars, and the other involving a bike.  Her little round face had a native-American quality to it, with her dark, suspicious eyes and prominent cheekbones.   Soraya was a workout maniac who spent hours daily in the gym.  Once, when Alaina informed her that the fabric of her pants had ridden up her inner thigh, causing a “camel toe,” Soraya replied, “Fine, let their imagination run wild!  What else do they expect to see?  I have a pussy, damn it!”  That’s when Alaina knew they were going to be close friends.

The third member of the group was Becky.  Becky was a petite wisp of a young Woman, standing barely five feet tall.  She wore a size zero and she had brilliant red hair that she liked to pull back into a bun and her face was full of freckles.  Really she could have passed for a 12-year-old with her girlish shit-eating grin.  Becky may have been little but she had the sass of ten women and Alaina and Soraya adored her for her spunk and her eternal optimistic attitude about everything in life.  Of the three, she was the most likely to crack a joke or share a funny video.  She dressed like a 35-year-old Woman, preferring skirt suits that highlighted her “dope little body” as Soraya liked to call it, and black leather boots with a good size heel, so she wouldn’t “feel like a fucking midget.”  Becky may have been the sweetest of the three girls but as both Alaina and Soraya had witnessed, she had a mean side and may have been the most naturally sadistic of the threesome.

Then again, they were all somewhat sadistic, but not in a truly mean-spirited way.  Unless you had a Y-chromosome, and you attempted to cross them. 

As for the mystery of why they were such good friends so early on in their Freshman year, Alaina, Soraya and Becky had met before school started, at an on-line forum for young Females who want to assert control of the men in their lives.  It was a serious forum for a new generation of serious young Women and when they discovered they were all attending the University, it seemed almost preordained that they would become close friends.  Becky and Soraya were burgeoning young Female Dominants.  They both had a natural inclination to being in charge, and in high school they had experimented with success.  Both were still very much in the learning phase, but their enthusiasm was obvious and they asked all the right questions.  Both saw college as part of their continuing education.  Many subjects, such as mathematical theory, seemed pointless to them, but their favorite course by far was the one taught to them by their incredible British friend Alaina, who was a fully blown, fully established humiliatrix who was banking god-only-knew-how-much ”working” ten hours per week in an area they were all increasingly passionate about.  And of course there was the money.  A Girl needs good clothing and good food. 

“And sooooo?  Tell me about your theory, Alaina?” said Soraya.

“Dr. Gradkowski,” Alaina finally said, in tone that mocked the first part of his name.

The mere mention of the name caused the other girls to laugh out loud.  This happened a lot in their little gatherings.  Soraya and Becky would laugh a lot, while Alaina held court.  While they all prided themselves on being crazy in all the right ways, Alaina had a certain audacity that the others could only admire. 

When the laughing was over, Alaina slid a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear and continued.  “He’s not married, never was married, has no girlfriend according to Mrs. Carver his secretary, who by the way doesn’t like him.  He’s overweight, which means he has no impulse control.  Plus, I saw the look.”

Soraya and Becky stopped laughing.   Alaina was never wrong about The Look.  The Look was more than just a look of sexual longing.  It came with it a sense of submission and acquiescence that could only mean one thing.  All three Women were familiar with The Look, but only Alaina had truly mastered it to the point where if she saw The Look, it was a virtual fact as to what lay beneath the façade. 

Becky shook her head and smiled, her eyes glittering with anticipation.  In a short amount of time, Alaina had become her role model.  She’d spent so much of her life acting timid around men and a year ago it all changed.  Mike was on the football team and dwarfed her in size.   It had been a surprise when he had asked her out; she didn’t run with the “cool crowd” although it had been obvious to her for some time he had been sweet on her; they were part of the same lab team in science.  On their second date, he confessed his submissive feelings about Women to her.  Becky had been vaguely aware of this sort of kink, but to practice it with such a polite young man was something else.  It wasn’t long before the timid one was Mike, as Becky embraced his feelings and took him in hand.  It all seemed to happen so naturally.  They spent a lot of time at Becky’s house when her parent were traveling.  Mike was almost always naked, and she quickly learned different methods of controlling him through her sexual superiority.  She learned how much he loved her discipline and how easy it was to manipulate him.  It was a blast for both of them (for Mike, quite literally). 

Through her experiences with Mike, Becky came to college with the belief that sexual superiority equated to superiority in virtually all areas of the relationship.  In the end, Mike ended up going to college 2,000 miles away and they both decided it was best to break it off.  But it was a wonderful indoctrination for Becky.   After that, she met Alaina and Soraya on-line and the rest was history.

Now Alaina was talking about upping the stakes.  If it were anyone else, Becky would have had serious reservations about challenging a professor in her school.  But this was Alaina and Alaina was superhuman.  Plus she treasured the idea of pushing around Professor Gradkowski.  He was a major shithead to her, and if Alaina was right and he was submissive – and she probably was right – then it would be fun as hell to sexually humiliate him.  Her relationship with Mike had been one rooted in love and at least a modicum of respect (mostly from him to her), but when it came to an old man with an attitude, Becky knew that it was a different game entirely.  Older sub males wanted and needed a more thorough and merciless version of Female Domination.  She leaned forward  and spoke in a hushed tone.  “That would be so awesome, Alaina.  So cool.”

Soraya’s interest in Female Domination wasn’t quite as dramatic as Becky’s.  From the time she hit puberty, Soraya was innately aware of her powers over men and she didn’t hesitate to use them to do her favors and give her money.  She enjoyed the kinky stuff, but for her the whole thing was a bit more casual than it was for Alaina and it would soon be for Becky.  “Now wait just a minute,” she said.  “If you misjudge the situation you could end up getting expelled.  You know that right?”

“I’m fully aware of the stakes,” said Alaina.  She sat upright and tucked her arms beneath her breasts, which pressed cozily against her white sweater.  “What I’m saying is that it’s a bloody certainty.  I just know.”

“I’m not doubting your instinct,” said Soraya.  “And you know I’d just love to be a part of that operation.  Just be careful.  I’ve heard this guy eats students for breakfast.  He’s supposed to be a real asshole.”

“Understood.”

“I just want to say with all sincerity,” began Becky, “that if and when you pull this off, I assume you are going to bring us in to help cement things. “

“Absolutely,” said Alaina.  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, dear.”

“Good, I have a score to settle with that dipshit.  And I think you’re right, by the way.  I got a vibe as well.  Before I left yesterday I glared at him and I saw weakness.” 

“We saw the same thing,” Alaina said, reflectively, coming closer to a smile than usual.  “I want us to play your special game with him, Rebecca.  How cool would that be?”

“It would be so awesome.  We’re on the same page then,” said Becky, her smile taking up half her face and causing her freckled cheeks to get flush with excitement. 

“Count me in,” said Soraya.  “I LOVE that game.”

“We know,” said Alaina, patting her friend on the arm.  “All girls love Candlepeen Balling.”

“Even my lovely friend, the ice Princess?” joked Becky.

“Even me,” said Alaina, showing something that almost resembled a smile, as she paused to accept the check from the waiter and mindlessly put down her Gold Card.  “Especially me, actually.  It’s something I never would have thought of on my own.  It’s that wonderful American creativity that you’re blessed with, dear.”

Becky pulled back a lock of her hair and her face took on a reflective pose.  “I’ve been wanting my very own kickbag for a long time now.  Maybe this is it.”  To emphasize her point, she stuck out her little booted leg and made an imaginary kick.  “Wham go the balls!” 

The other girls laughed.  Becky’s enthusiasm could be infectious.

XXXXX

When Dr. Stanley Gradkowski  set eyes on Alaina Brower, he knew something was different and a part of his brain, the part with the brilliant logical insight, knew that his life would never be the same again.  There was beauty and then there was this, the utter embodiment of every fantasy he had ever had about Women.  Alaina Brower had this regal quality that was hard for him to put his finger on.  And to think she was a Freshman!  A young British Female Cunt who should be terrified to be in his office.  Yet here she was, walking in as if she owned the place, regarding him with what felt like detached clinical amusement. 

“I can’t change your grade,” was the first thing he had said, but he said it with a certain limp-wristed tone that the young Woman facing him from the other side of his desk seemed to digest whole.    Inside he was telling himself to resist his temptations like he usually was able to do.  Was it that he had lost the lid on his own desires, or did this young Woman have some kind of special hold on him?   Her gaze made his collar feel tight.  She sneered at him and he felt himself looking away. 

Alaina surveyed the situation carefully.  What was about to happen was preordained, as far as she was concerned.  Alaina had a precocity when it came to Female Domination.  She believed with all of her heart and her soul that this was meant to be.  It was part of the natural evolutionary order of things.  She felt a certain power as she stared a hole through the male sitting across from her and watched as he struggled to keep it together. 

“I’m not here to ask you to do that, Gradkowski.  I’m here to tell you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” she said.  “I have a feeling about you.”  She stood and walked around to the other side of the desk, her eyes never moving from her prey, until she was standing directly in front of it.  She folded her arms across her chest and thrust her hips out so that her crotch, which she knew was lovely and powerful, was directly in the male’s line of site.   This was the moment of truth. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”  The voice was weak and fading and destined to be shoved aside by the Woman it was addressing. 

“Right.  I’ll bet you any amount of money that if you let me look at your internet history, I’d find a few very interesting things,” she said.

Stanley’s face went totally blank and then he felt it begin to boil.

“I-I don’t think that will be necessary.  Really.”  He managed to stutter.  The problem was in addition to her beauty, Alaina’s scent had overcome his olfactory senses.

“Get out of my chair, wimp.” she said.

The lump in Stanley’s throat threatened to cut off his breathing and yet he felt himself standing, as she told him to.  It took all of Alaina’s self-control not to smile right then and there.  Instead she eyed him with contempt.  “I just knew you were a pushover at heart,” she said, pointing to the floor next to the chair.  Sit on the floor at my feet while I do some investigating.  Don’t move.  Don’t say a word.”

Stanley felt as if he were in some sort of trance.  The warning bells were going off, but he could only hear their faint echoes as he took a seat on the cold floor.  Do something, idiot.  DO SOMETHING!  Yet instead he sat quietly and watched as Alaina started humming as she clicked on his Explorer icon and then clicked on his history. 

Again, Alaina had to resist the urge to smile as all the sites she suspected would be there were there.  He was just like every other humiliation junkie out there, unable to resist the most base of impulses, namely that Women had the real power and the thought made him want to touch himself between the legs over and over and over.  In a way it was a horrifying reality that such males existed,  but it was reality and she had managed to own it.  The websites were all there.  Doctor Gradkowski.  Stanley, masturbated to all the things she loved to do and would soon be doing to him.  He was infatuated with being stripped and humiliated by clothed Women.  He visited dozens of sites featuring the basic tenets of Femdom, including OTK spanking, ballbusting, cbt, shaming and mockery.  She kept nodding her head.  Finally she said, “I thought you would have put up more of a fight than this.  Not that I really care on way or another.  Eventually males like you end up in the same place anyhow.  Now take your pants off, wanker.”

Alaina didn’t even bother to turn and look, as the telltale rustling of clothing being removed took place at her feet.  It’s over, she thought to herself while continuing to observe the footprints of this pervert who would soon be performing for her and her friends.  Gradkowski would make a nice clown puppet no doubt.  He was obese and it would be all too easy to ridicule his sagging, body and all the jiggling folds of fat.  She turned and savored one of her favorite moments of the conversion process, the terribly embarrassing moment of full exposure, when she first set her eyes upon uncovered male genitals.  It never failed to disappoint and even the biggest perverts found their initial exposure to be terribly humiliating.  She was happy to note that his face was beet-red and he blushed profusely as her eyes settled on his ungroomed groin area.  Gradkowski’s penis jutted grotesquely from his disgusting hair forest.  It was a circumcised four-incher, no doubt an endless source of disappointment for the male it was attached to and any Woman who actually intended to hook up with this pig (no doubt it had been years).    His scrotum, she was happy to note, was bloated and oversized.  Why was it that these perverts always had big sacks?  It was one of god’s great mysteries.  Becky and Soraya would be pleased.  It would make Candlepeen Balling all the more enjoyable. 

It was time for her to deliver her standard lecture, the irony of which wasn’t lost upon her.  Her lecture had been delivered so many times before, to so many different males, especially since college started, when she had no fewer than six American males leashed and paying her bills.  This was special though and she would savor it.

“I’m giving you a choice, Gradkowski,” she began before assuring him that what was happening was very real and she would be very relentless.  She explained that “wanker perverts” like him truly disgusted her (they did) and that he was in desperate need of a lesson (he was).  She let the words sink in before grabbing him by the comb-over of his thinning hairline and repeating the fact that he was a born wanker.  She slapped him in the face several times and she was pleased to note that he sat in place, meekly accepting the her abuse as though it were a gift.  After the fourth hard slap he finally put his hands up and so she reached between his forearms and grabbed him by the knot of his tie.  She shook him fiercely and watched his tie along with his penis jiggle about.  Who said he could talk to her friend like that, she wanted to know.  And wasn’t it ironic that he had such a reputation for being a misogynist when in fact he was a submissive pansy and a wimpy wanker who loved to be abused? 

Alaina told Gradkowski that they both knew he needed to yield to her authority.  In doing so, he would find his perverted dreams would become a reality but that he may end up not liking that reality, not that she gave a shit one way or another.  Actually that wasn’t entirely true.  She wanted him not to like it but to be powerless to resist.  “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do with you, wanker.  Help you find your true calling.”  In exchange for helping him in this fashion, she had a very simple request:  Alaina and her two good Female friends, Becky and Soraya, would be getting nothing but A’s from here on out.  She shook his collar again to emphasize that point.  His eyes were lost, the eyeballs expressionless, as they bounced around his sockets as aimlessly as his little penis bounced around his groin. 

Of course, Alaina informed him, he could decide to say no to the whole endeavor and she would drop the whole matter.  Really,  it was no problem.  She would leave him alone, more or less, as would Becky and Soraya.  The only exception would be that they were prone, as most young Women were, to sharing rumors.  And in this case the rumors would be focused around his extra-curricular activities.  “You know,” she explained, what you like to do with your free time, namely wank your little dick like a mindless zombie until you squirt your mess.” 

“Indeed, if you don’t give in, Gradkowski, then the truth will be known.  After all, it IS the truth,  isn’t it?  Alaina shook his tie until he confirmed that she was telling the truth.  By now his face was red and he looked terribly disheveled.  It had taken her no time.  She just had walked in and taken control. 

“I may be young,” she concluded.  “But I don’t mess around.  And neither do my girlfriends.  Have I made myself clear, wanker?”

“Yes.”

“Yes MA’AM.  Call me Ma’am from now on, wanker.  It will help you remind  yourself that you are dealing with a Woman.  This isn’t make-believe, Gradkowski.  Our age doesn’t matter.  I’m the Woman in this relationship, such as it could be called a relationship, and you’re the little boy who does what he’s told.  Clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good.  Now spread your legs.  There’s something I need to do before I bugger off.  Ask me nicely to kick your bollocks into your chubby little stomach, you silly little shit.” 

Even before Gradkowski finished asking, Alaina’s foot flashed between his legs and she gave him a good solid kick.  It was meant to be enough to cause some pain, but not too much pain.  That would come later.  In Alaina’s case, practice made perfect, and she felt the bridge of her shoe drive Gradkowski’s gonads up against his pelvic bone.  Gradkowski’s reaction was truly priceless.  Alaina didn’t think she had hit him that hard.   It was always a curiosity to her what new male meat would sound like when she first hit them.  In this case, Gradkowski let out a deep groan and crumpled into a ball. 

“That’s just a small taste of what’s to come,” she said, standing.  Clear your schedule for tomorrow afternoon or evening.  My girlfriends and I want to play a game and it requires your attendance.  Keep a close eye on your in-box.  I’ll be in touch.” 

As Alaina left the office, her back turned to her conquest, she permitted herself a triumphant smile.  Back inside, Dr. Stanley Gradkowski waited for the pain in his balls and stomach to subside.  He was aware of his own erection and not much else.  Then his mind flashed to the last thing she had said, about some game she and her girlfriends wanted to play.  In the case of Alaina Brower, Stanley was powerless.  But such wasn’t the case with the other girls, especially Becky, that uppity little twit who dressed like a CEO.  It was taking him time to get his breath and his stomach was very sore.  He felt nauseous and it occurred to him that he had just been steamrolled and the thought made him begin to throb again. 

XXXXX

Candlepeen Balling - A game for Ladies – by Miss Rebecca Madison.

Equipment:  Rubber workout balls filled with sand.  One naked submissive male.

Position male on chair with legs spread and genitals fully exposed, at a reasonable distance. 

RULES: Ladies take alternate turns.  Up to four Ladies can play.  First Lady to reach 21 points, or to register a Knockout or a Technical Knockout wins the game.  Male is responsible for fetching workout balls and returning to Female contestants after each round prior to reassuming proper position on chair.

1 Point - A shot that makes contact with either the penis or the testicles but does not cause the male to do anything beyond flinching. 

2 Points (Spare) - A shot that not only makes contact with male genitals, but causes the male to either "cover up" and/or to touch his genitals with his hands in futile effort to massage away the pain.

3 Points (Strike) - A shot that causes the male to lose contact with the chair (either knocked on the floor or ass comes temporarily off the chair due to process of doubling over in pain).

Knockout - A shot that not only delivers a Strike but causes the male to either outright quit the game or it is determined by the Female judges that the male is finished, in which case it is a Technical Knockout and the Woman who delivered the winning ball is declared the winner of the game.  The other Females are not considered "losers" but rather "participants."  The male is always considered the loser in the game of Candlepeen Balling. 

If the male is moving prior to shots, a blindfold may be used and a spanking may be administered as determined by the Females in the room. 

XXXXX

Anticipation floated in the air along with the season’s first snow flakes, as three young Women strode across campus to the Pierce Hall, which the math faculty called home.  It was just after 9 PM and the building was empty, except for the office of the Chair of Mathematics, which had the light on, and a naked, trembling chairman on his knees, wondering what he had gotten himself into.  The Women were late and he wondered if perhaps he was being stood up and if perhaps that was a good thing.

Alaina theorized that submissive males were all closeted “mini-misogynists.”  Her rationale was that their innate, built-in compasses told them that men were the rightful rulers of the world and that was the precise reason they found Female Domination so exciting.  The notion of role reversal was naturally humiliating because it went against what they felt was the natural order of things; that they were supposed to be in charge and the fact that they weren’t was perversely thrilling to them.  Which made them the very definition of perverts and a major reason, among many, that Alaina had no qualms with using and abusing them. 

Becky and Soraya had experimented with one-on-one domination their senior years of high school, but the first time they had engaged in a group session was with one of Alaina’s clients, Roger.  Roger was a hairy 31-year-old corporate lawyer, whom Alaina had scooped up on-line.  The involvement of Becky and Soraya had been quite wonderful and gratifying for Alaina.  Both girls took to group humiliation like they had been doing it for years.   Roger’s face had been so red with shame, and soon his nuts would turn red as well, thanks to Becky’s brilliant sporting invention, along with her fastball.  They had called him Roger the Dodger, the way he sought to avoid the pain, but unfortunately in the end he wasn’t a good enough dodger and was left with a severely bruised ego (and scrotum) for his troubles. 

Alaina had strong feelings about the way group humiliation sessions should be conducted.  They had a ritualistic quality to them, almost formulaic in nature.  That didn’t mean there wasn’t room for laughter and joy.  Those emotions had their place, but certain behavior was frowned upon.  The goal was to act like you’ve done this before.  Avoid overly flamboyant behavior.  Absolutely no flaunting of one’s body or slutting it up.  Their beauty was self-evident and Alaina had all the contempt in the world for dommes who thought it was okay to flash their breasts or yell and scream at their vanquished male foes.  It wasn’t her style. She believed in composure, always.

The laughter echoed throughout Pierce Hall, as the three Women entered Gradkowski’s office to find the Professor kneeling naked on the floor, hands out, palms down, eyes staring forlornly at his hardwood floor, with his own stiff, aging little piece of hardwood pointing conspicuously toward his tormentors. 

“Ha HA HA HA.”  The young Women took a few moments to finish laughing and put down their things before gathering in front of Gradkowski.  Soraya immediately pulled out her phone and began taking photographs.  Gradkowski looked anxiously back and forth, but stayed in position.

“What are you going to do about it, dipshit?  Nothing,” said Soraya.  “And I had better start seeing an A on every one of my papers, or everyone in the University is going to learn all about your little secret.” 

“But that doesn’t have to happen,” said Alaina.  “And I don’t think it will happen because you’re going to do exactly what we say.  Aren’t you?”

Gradkowski hung his head in shame and uttered another “Yes Ma’am,” to a chorus of soprano laughter.”

Alaina stepped forward and tucked her finger beneath his chin.  “Look at me when I speak to you, wanker.  Just in case you get any second thoughts about any of this, Miss Soraya’s threat was real.  We won’t hesitate to out you – anonymously.  But as long as you behave yourself and make us happy then you have nothing to worry about – other than what we’re going to do to you.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You need to realize that we are playing for keeps.  And that’s just the way you have always wanted it, isn’t it?  Are you tired of having to pay skanky professional dommes to put you in your place?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You’ve been just waiting and praying for the right group of mean college girls to come along and put you in your place.  I’d say you’ve been ripe for the plucking, haven’t you?  Secretly wanking your little dick all these years to this very situation.  Fully clothed, fully dignified young Women stripping you naked and punishing your worthless genitals, dragging you through the muck, exposing you and proving what a compulsive wanker you are!”

Gradkowski smiled sheepishly as he acknowledged the truth.  His smile made Becky’s blood curdle, as she eyed his throbbing dick and felt her resolve getting stronger. 

“Then say it, wanker.  Say, ‘I, Gradkowski, the Top Wanking Professor of Wankamatics hereby swears allegiance to MISS Soraya, MISS Rebecca, and MISS Alaina.”

Gradkowski repeated the phrase to a tee, his voice halting and cracking halfway through, as Female laughter took over.  It was over for him.  There was no going back now.  And the creeping feeling that he was getting his ego and self-esteem crushed was overwhelmed by the electricity he felt in his limbs. 

“Crawl over here,” Alaina said, “and apologize to Miss Rebecca for your shameful disrespectful behavior the other day.”

Gradkowski was made to crawl, like a worm, to Becky’s feet and formally apologize to her for his rude behavior while kissing her little black boots.  There was no delay, as it was clear resistance would not be an issue. 

“Don’t be fooled, Becky,” Alaina said.  He doesn’t really respect you.  But I’ve no doubts that will change soon enough.”

Becky now had the stage.  She had been planning for this confrontation and had decided ahead of time that she was going to be as ruthless as possible.  She studied the bloated old pervert as he wriggled on the floor in front of her, trembling with obvious excitement.  If he wanted to be steamrolled then she would give him exactly what he wanted.  “You.  Fucking perverted.  Moron.” Becky said, her freckled cheeks flush with intensity, as she reminded herself to stay calm and keep her emotions in check.  “On your back!  And spread those flabby legs so my girlfriends and I can get a good look at that stiff little dick.” 

Alaina felt a real sense of pride as Becky spoke.  She was a total natural and there was something about watching one’s protégé in action that was almost as satisfying as delivering her own verbal beatdown.  There would be time for that.  In the meantime, Becky was radiating Feminine confidence and the girl had a knack for verbal humiliation.  It was hard to believe how new she was to all this. 

“What a wimp he turned out to be,” said Soraya, laughing as Gradkowski scramble to comply. 

“Indeed,” said Alaina, “I was hoping he’d be more of a challenge.”

“Look what we have here,” Becky began.  “Your garden variety penis-tugging pervert, addicted to jerking off to internet porn.  And it looks like the local dommes have been having a field day with this bloated kickbag,” she mused.  “But it’s not red enough.”

“Definitely not,” agreed Alaina. 

Becky stuck the tip of her boot against the underside of Gradkowski’s scrotum and slid it forward so his nuts bulged in his sack.  She waited until he grunted in pain before pulling her foot away.  “What a complete embarrassment you are.  And you like being treated this way.  Look at how hard your little dick is.  I bet if I flashed you the loser symbol then you’ll like it even more, won’t you?”

There wasn’t any need for Gradkowski to say a word.  His cock was fully distended and leaking pre come.  Becky removed her foot and gave him a solid kick in the area below his scrotum and they all laughed as his dick toggled back and forth.  Led by Becky, all three Women flashed the “L” symbol with their fingers and shared a good laugh.

“Fucking jerkoff loser,” Soraya said.  “I can’t wait to punish him.”

“Look at that cognitive dissonance in his eyes,” said Alaina.  “A part of him doesn’t like being degraded, but that’s precisely what makes him a loser in the true sense of the word.  He’s self-defeating.  And now we’re going to beat every last shred of resistance out of you, wanker,” she added.  “But first we’re going to make you show us just how obedient and devoted you can be.  Time for a little game.  What do you say, Ladies?”

“Absolutely!”

Alaina had brought a large handbag.  Inside were three malleable plastic three-pound balls.  They were made for light workouts, meant to held during stretching and yoga exercises.  They had a soft jelly exterior and were filled with sand, which gave them their weight. 

Becky continued to stand over him, hands on hips, her eyes bearing down on him.  “Do  you want to jerk off for us, pervert?  Do you want to diddle your favorite little toy for us?”

“Yes, Miss Rebecca.”

“Then ask nicely, dipshit.  Ask for our permission.  That’s the way things work here.  Were you born yesterday?”

Gradkowski asked, his voice cracking as he looked up and saw the resolve of this tiny little Bitch and her smiling friends.  After he asked, they all looked at each other and began laughing once again.  It was a familiar theme.  They seemed to have so much more fun than the dominatrixes he’d paid for in the past.  He burned with shame and he felt that uneasiness taking over him.  Then, as his eyes studied the young female legs congregating around him, he felt his muscles relax involuntarily.  He felt a peaceful calm take over him.  He would do whatever he was told.  It was the natural order of things.   He studied Becky Madison.  She wore a thick belt around her tiny little waist, but there was no mistaking the statement her hips made and there was no mistaking the reality of what beauty must lie between her thighs, what perfection.   Perfection he could only dream of.  The realization washed over him: This was a Woman in every sense of the word.   As if she read his mind, she added, “That’s right, pervert.  You aren’t dealing with little girls here.  We are Women.  You’re going to learn that the hard way.”

“Now put your legs up in the air and grab your teensy tiny little penis while you ask us to jack off again, with total sincerity,” she said, unable to hold back a giggle.  “While you’re at it why don’t you stick your finger up your asshole, loser.  Show us what a depraved fucking pervert you are.  That’s it.  Just like that.  Disgusting.  Now ask us nicely.”

“Please Miss Rebecca.  Please may I be allowed to jerk, uh diddle my tiny little penis?”

More laughter.

“Were you even paying attention, pervert?  We’re going to play our game first.”

“Manipulated just like a fucking puppet,” said Soraya.

“Take your hand off your penis, pervert,” said Becky.  “And get back on your knees while Miss Alaina reads you the rules to our game.”

Alaina read the rules, while the other girls positioned a chair for Gradkowski to sit on.  Gradkowski’s erection continued to persist as he eagerly agreed to the rules of the game.  Alaina made sure he understood that if he didn’t show appropriate obedience in not only keeping his genitals still for punishment, but hurrying to gather the balls after each round, then he would pay for it dearly. 

They had Gradkowski position himself in the chair facing the Women, so his thighs were spread and pulled up above his buttocks.  This way his balls rested against lewdly against his exposed pelvic region.  And with that, the game was underway.  Alaina went first and then Soraya.  Alaina’s shot delivered a glancing blow to the scrotum, while Soraya’s shot slammed into the erect penis, causing Gradkowski to issue the first of many groans.   Neither shot caused Gradkowski to cover up or double over in pain, so each was worth a single point.

Then it was Becky’s turn.  Gradkowski felt his body tense up as he studied the petite bitch.  He was hit with a sinking feeling as he watched he way she was standing and positioning her body.  There was something coordinated about her as she stood, legs together, tight skirt hugging those hips, eyes focused with great intensity on her target.  She whirled her body and pivoted around her hips, pulling her arm back above her head and driving forward.  Unlike the other Women, she tossed underhand. Gradkowski’s eyes nearly popped out of his head,  as the ball came at his groin with much more velocity and a flatter trajectory.  A split second before impact, it occurred to Gradkowski that the annoying little minx must have been a softball pitcher.

The deep, satisfying sound was followed by an equally satisfying sound of a grown man crying in pain.  Becky’s ball slammed into the base of Gradkowski’s erect penis, with only the lower quarter of the ball crashing into the top of his scrotum.  Just just before the pain set in, he saw the smug look on Becky’s face and he wondered how he got into this position. 

“UNGHHHH!” he groaned and grabbed for his package while tumbling off the chair and onto the ground. 

“Three points!” he heard one of them say, and then they were laughing and hugging each other.

“That felt so gooooood,” said Rebecca.

“Did you hear that sound?” said Soraya, nearly in tears with laughter. 

“Fetch the balls, wank zombie,” said Alaina, with an edge to her voice.  “Move your fat ass.” As Gradkowski struggled to comply it occurred to him that he had a different impression of her now.  She was a cold-hearted bitch and she didn’t have the slightest bit of sympathy for his plight.

“Move it!  We’re only getting started.  You enjoy this, remember?”

He rose wearily and gathered the balls, spurred on by the high-pitched voices imploring him to hurry up and that if he didn’t show more effort there would be no wanking today.  As he handed them the balls, Miss Rebecca in particular had a look of pure vengeance on her face that made him feel queasy.  Ballbusting was a constant fantasy of his, but reality hurt, a lot and yet he had no choice but to comply as the feelings of humiliation washed over him and his horniness drove him to comply. 

“Reassume the position,” instructed Miss Alaina before turning to the other girls.  “This is the part of the psychology I hold so dear.  It’s the confusion in the wanker’s head as he is hit with the realization that this isn’t about his enjoyment.”

“That’s what I like about ballbusting,” mused Miss Soraya.  “It’s such a fantasy for these jerkoffs until the violation takes place.”

Up came Gradkowski’s legs, this time with more hesitation, but they came up nonetheless and the only part of him they were interested in, his genitals, snapped back into position, his erection symbolic of his compliance. 

Both Miss Alaina and Miss Soraya had similar success to the first time around.  Miss Soraya did manage to catch the left testicle with a glancing blow that caused Gradkowski to groan and slump over, thus awarding her two points.  Now it was Miss Rebecca’s turn again and Gradkowski closed his thighs and squirmed in his chair.  Soraya’s shot had partially crushed his left nut and he felt it in his stomach.

“If you don’t get back into position you can forget about wanking your penis in our presence.  I can promise you there will be no more warnings.  Spread your legs, wimp.” 

Up came the legs.  Gradkowski’s inner thighs parted begrudgingly and the target was presented dutifully to the young Lady.   

Rebecca was a county all-star softball pitcher in high school.  From this distance, less than ten feet away, she was incredibly precise.  Because she wanted to prolong the moment, she aimed slightly high with her second pitch.  The finish of Rebecca’s throwing motion positioned her eyesight directly behind the ball, so she was able to track the pitch perfectly as it slammed into the underside of Gradkowski’s hard little penis, with the brunt of the force hitting just below the head.  If a sound could be described as stinging, this was it.  She pumped her fist triumphantly as Gradkowski cried out in shock.

“Strike!” she yelled, and Soraya and then Alaina gave her congratulatory hugs. 

Alaina took the time to linger in the embrace, giving Rebecca an extra tight little squeeze.  She crouched down so her breasts pressed against Rebecca’s pointy little titties.  “You’re putting on a clinic,” she said proudly. 

“You know what,” said Alaina, reluctantly parting from Becky.  “I think Miss Rebecca is the clear winner, but I think she should have one more final bowling round to showcase her skills.” 

“Please,” Gradkowski cut in surprisingly.  “I have learned my lesson.”

“Shush,” said Miss Alaina.  “We aren’t finished with our game yet.  My girlfriend Miss Rebecca is entitled to one more good shot.  Who knows, she might miss.”

The girls all laughed before Alaina continued.

“Tuck your legs up against your chest as much as possible, wanker.  Give her a nice juicy target.  There you go.  Time for the kill shot.  No pressure, Rebecca.  We have faith in you.”

“Justifiably,” Miss Rebecca said, her eyes laser-focused on her target.  She hesitated a few more seconds before rearing back and uncoiling her little body with even more torque than her previous two efforts (later Soraya made a dirty joke that Rebecca put her cunt into her final throw).  The ball whistled out of her little hand with startling velocity and bridged the ten foot gap between her hand and Gradkowski’s scrotum in a perfect line.

WHOMP!

Before slamming against his scrotum and pancaking it against his groin.  Gradkowski’s body went perfectly rigid and a cry of pure anguish escaped from his lungs, followed by another and then another.   His legs went together, his hands plunging downward, the eyes bulging, he collapsed awkwardly onto the floor, so focused on the pain that landed on his shoulder and ribs, his head banging onto an old oriental rug. 

Miss Rebecca let out a whoop of celebration.   She then jumped into the air and clasped her little thighs instinctively together, as pleasure reverberated throughout her small frame.  “Uhhh,” she said as if to add an exclamation point to it all. 

“Ballseye!” yelled out Miss Soraya. 

“Now that’s how you punish a compulsive wanker.  Well done!” 

Miss Rebecca turned to accept the congratulations of her friends.  She was oozing with this sort of infectious happiness as she recapped recent history.  “Did you hear the sound it made?  Oh my god did that feel good!” 

“I’ll bet it did.  Miss Alaina was smiling now, almost to the point of showing her teeth.  It was all very pleasing.  “I don’t think he’ll be giving you any more trouble on your exams dear.”

The Women turned and studied Gradkowski.  He was on the floor next to the chair, crumpled into the fetal position, still making strange noises. 

“Oh Wanker.  WANKER!  Roll onto your back so we can inspect the damage.”   

Gradkowski’s balls were noticeably red and irritated looking.  Alaina had presided over much more vicious ball thrashings.  She had a client that liked her to come and kick his gonads all over his apartment.  These beat-down sessions were highly enjoyable for her and she would always leave him a heap of wreckage in his own closet, balls swollen so severely that they pressed against each inside the defeated sack.  This latest deliverance of Female supremacy, whilst nowhere near as severe, was deeply humiliating and she couldn’t help but smile with gratification, as she replayed the moment Becky’s fastball crashed into Gradkowski’s manhood. 

In the end, they allowed Gradkowski to jack off in front of them.  All three of them found the act highly entertaining.  Plus, as Alaina noted, it would serve to increase their control over him.  On cue, Soraya and Alaina pulled his legs up over his head until his flabby ass was positioned directly over his own face, his stiff little penis pointing down at the appropriate target.   “Now Willie Wanker, you are to make certain to get every last bit of ejaculate on your face or preferably in your mouth!” explained Alaina. 

“This is my favorite part,” Soraya said.  “Gobble Gobble PROFESSOR!” 

Gradkowski continued to tug away for several more minutes, but he seemed to be having a hard time finishing the job.

Then Becky crouched down in front of Gradkowski.  She thought of the way he had belittled her only two days earlier.  “You told me grade grubbers are the lowest form of life.  What does that make you?  You should see yourself in the mirror.” She slapped him hard.   “Come on, pervert.  Time for your penis paste,” added Becky, sticking her finger in her own mouth in disgust.  “All of us have better things to do with our time.  So hurry the fuck up, pig.  Make with the penis paste.” 

“Penis paste,” said Soraya.  “I love it.” 

And sure enough, as Becky’s verbal beat-down radiated inside Gradkowski’s overdeveloped cerebral cortex, he felt his entire chest and nipples begin to tingle as though they were being tickled by feathers.  He issued a deep, vulgar grunt from the pit of his stomach and he arched his back and twisted his neck. 

Becky stood.  “Here comes the penis paste.  It’s about fucking term, jerkoff idiot.” 

Gradkowski issued the deepest most intense moans, immediately mimicked by Soraya, and out came (or oozed as it were) the penis paste.  The first three big spurts hit his cheek, his chin and then a huge blast directly onto his outstretched tongue (One of the girls, he didn’t know which one, called it, “The Money Shot”).  He was faintly aware of the Female students standing over him and expressing their disgust and utter contempt at what they were witnessing, while secretly being thrilled by it all.  He squeezed and tugged on his dick as hard as he could and strained for every last ounce of pleasure.  Jets of semen continued to spurt out, three huge ropes in a row onto the tip of his nose, then his upper lip and then his teeth, not that he even noticed, so focused was he on stroking.  As his orgasm began to wind down, it occurred to him that he had finally crossed that line and that he no longer was in possession of the slightest shred of decency, nor freewill.  With that, a final thick glob of semen broke free of the narrow string connecting it to the tip of Gradkowski’s tip and settled almost gracefully onto his chin. 

Soraya and Alaina released Gradkowski’s legs and he again flopped awkwardly to the floor.  This time he placed his hands by his side and stared at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. 

All three young Women studied the incredibly vulgar scene in front of them and exchanged brief, knowing smiles.  Gradkowski was now, for all intents and purposes, their property and he would do whatever they told him to do.  

“What a disgusting, sub-human pervert you are,” concluded Miss Rebecca.  “Wait don’t touch him for a second.  I need a photograph.”

“Feeding time,” said Miss Soraya in a happy little singsong voice.

Miss Soraya used her sneakers to slide the thick spunk back into Gradkowski’s mouth, while Miss Rebecca positioned herself between his legs, kicking his thighs apart and planting a foot on his groin.  She used the tip of her boot to split his testicles to opposite ends of his reddened sack, pressing down until each nut bulged against the stretched out scrotal skin.  It was enough to hold him in place, but it wasn’t meant to inflict significant punishment.  Soraya began forcing thick gobs of facial sperm into Gradkowski’s mouth, scooping and shoveling in chunk after chunk even before he had a chance to swallow what was already in there.  Suddenly the strong gummy taste registered in the back of his throat and he began gagging.  He turned his head aside instinctually and then gasped in pain as he felt a sharp pain in his right testicle and now his left, as Miss Rebecca was applying pressure with the tip of her boot and yelling at him to “get back into position.”  Now Miss Alaina was crouching over him and holding his skull in place while pinching his ears.  “Stay put, wanker,” she was saying and she had a big smile on her face, the likes of which he had never seen before.  “Miss Soraya hasn’t finished your feeding.”  

Gradkowski let loose with a mighty gag, his eyes tearing up and then he took a deep breath and felt all his muscles relax.  He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue and commenced sucking his own sperm off Miss Soraya’s sneakers.  It tasted incredibly metallic and salty and generally foul, but he didn’t have a choice.   The three Women were very thorough and they kept him pinned in this position for several minutes, while he continually gagged, but managed to eat virtually all his mess.  They made him lick in the small creases of Soraya’s sneaker until they were completely satisfied that their work was done.  With that, Rebecca released her foot and Alaina let go of his ears.  “I think our work is finished here, Ladies, she said.  Before standing she gave Gradkowski one more slap, this one in the side of the head.  “Wanker!  We own you now.”

THE END