The Domme Intern Ch 01

Chapter 1 The Domme Intern

Emily was alone in her apartment. She had just finished arranging several toys on her couch including a leather collar and leash, several lengths of braided black nylon cord, and a realistic but relatively small dildo with a strapon harness.

She was wearing, what she liked to think of as, her "dominatrix outfit". It consisted of a small, black leather mini skirt that she sometimes wore to dance clubs. It wasn't micro but it was plenty short enough for this evening's fun. She also wore black leather stiletto boots that went up to her knees. The heels were sharp and ridiculously tall at four inches. Her only other article of clothing was a sheer black lace bra. She skipped the panties. She liked the feeling of being bare under her skirt. Plus she knew the sight of her pussy was a powerful tool and the key to her dominance. She typically used little makeup but she knew that carefully applied, severe makeup was important to complete her desired look. She found that when she applied her makeup it put her in a dominant frame of mind. She wore dark red lipstick, and black eyeliner. Her fingernails were painted red to match her lips.

She heard a distinct knock at her door, two quick taps, a delay then a third. She smiled to herself; her play toy had arrived. She looked at the time on her phone and noted it was 8:02PM. He was late. She sat down on her couch to relax. She crossed one leg over the other and slowly ran her hand back and forth on her leather covered ankle, tickling her fingertips with the leather laces that crisscrossed her shin. Soon her foot toy would be on the floor licking her boots.

Mark stood nervously outside Emily's door. He knew he was late, his heart pounded as he waited. He knew not to knock again. He heard an apartment door open down the hall and some young women came out. They were having a lively conversation as they walked down the hall toward Mark. It was Thursday evening. They were likely headed to the bar.

They paused their conversation as they passed. He didn't look, but he could see in his peripheral vision that they each looked at him. His heart raced as he waited. Emily always made him wait at her door. Mark didn't think about it on a conscious level but it was one of her psychological tricks. He had been trained to wait at her door so that's exactly what he did. Every time he visited, for as long as she wanted, he would wait.

Mark's submission to Emily was constant. Even when he was not with her, he did as he was told. She made him wait to place him in the correct mindset, sometimes one minute, sometimes three or, if she was feeling particularly cruel, even longer.

She sat and looked at the door. She knew Mark was waiting just on the other side, getting more anxious with each passing second. She placed both feet on the floor, leaned back into the couch, reached up with both hands and gently rubbed her nipples through her thin lace bra. They firmed and she squeezed them, enjoying the sensation. Her nipples were particularly sensitive and she enjoyed having them stimulated. It made her extremely horny, and being horny fed into her "dominatrix mindset".

Plus, stimulating her nipples made them prominent so Mark would be sure to notice. She decided that his punishment for being late would be a spanking. He didn't like spankings which made them particularly effective at correcting his behavior.

Mark was a friend of Emily's. Well, he used to be. Now he was really just a play toy. A tool for her to experiment with and learn about female domination and male submission. She had learned that, when you fully control a person you are not friends, or even acquaintances. You develop a unique bond. Leader and follower, superior and subordinate, mistress and servant.

She smiled in silence, looking at the door. She thought back to when she met Mark, three years prior. He and Emily were both eighteen years old and freshmen at nearby Boston College. They met in the dorm on move in day. Mark was not particularly attractive but he had a sense of humor that Emily loved. He was fun to hang out with.

As far as Emily, well, to put it simply, she was a goddess. The first time Mark saw her, he was awestruck. She had appeared at his dorm room door and introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Emily. I'm moving in across the hall."

He looked down at her extended hand. He reached out and numbly shook her hand as he looked her up and down. Her grip was strong and she was much taller than him at five foot ten. She was barefoot and wearing black leggings with a snug, teal, dry fit shirt that accentuated her large, firm breasts.

Mark's mouth dropped open. He had never seen such a gorgeous girl. Her eyes were sparkling green and her auburn hair was thick, wavy and cascaded down past her shoulder.

"Would you happen to have a screwdriver I could borrow?" queried Emily.

She smiled and Mark studied her gorgeous face in silence. He admired her full lips, gorgeous eyes and perfect straight, white teeth. He wondered why she was attending college when she should obviously just become a model or a movie star or... "Are you okay?" asked Emily.

"Um, uh, Mark. Yeah, I'm Mark, is my name," he said awkwardly.

Emily smiled knowingly. She was accustomed to startling young men with her appearance. She smiled slyly and said, "Well, Mark is my name, do you have a screwdriver I could borrow? Or perhaps any other, useful tools?"

His mouth dropped open. Her playful question had the desired effect. He was instantly putty in her hands. From that day on he was smitten.

In the early weeks of their first semester Mark tried in vain to become "more than friends" with Emily. She was not interested in mark that way. He was short at five feet six and scrawny. Emily could have any guy she wanted and they both knew it.

They did spend a lot of time together. Mark became her "best guy friend". By the end of the first semester, Mark confessed to Emily his infatuation with her. She was not surprised and decided to let him down gently. His reaction was something new to her. At her young age she had already broken many hearts so she was used to these conversations and they always ended the same. The guy would be disappointed and they would never see each other again.

This time was different. When Emily explained that she was not interested in Mark "that way", he offered to take care of her and he begged her to "keep him". Rather than rejecting him outright, his desperate pleas struck a chord with her. It revealed a weakness in him that roused the domme lurking in her subconscious. His request that she "keep him" is what caught her attention. The term implied servitude.

"Keep him" she did. She made it clear that their relationship was not romantic. Mark was thrilled to be allowed into Emily's life, even as her "servant". Perhaps especially as her servant. He had been harboring fantasies of leather clad dominatrices with whips and chains. He didn't reveal his twisted fantasies, at least not all at once. As his special "relationship" with Emily grew over the subsequent months and years they both settled into their roles. Mark as the obedient, sexually controlled, boot licker and Emily as the powerful, unobtainable goddess.

Emily looked at the time again. It was 8:06PM. She stood and walked over to her door, grasping the deadbolt knob. She loudly unlocked it and paused. Mark heard the lock open and checked his posture. He stood up straight like a soldier, his heart pounding anew in his chest.

Emily took a deep breath and put on her best, "I'm pissed" facial expression as she opened her door.

As always, Mark was thrilled to see her. She was gorgeous as ever and her makeup revealed her as the cunning dominant woman she was. Her hair was pulled back into a single braid.

Her lips curled as she sneered, "You're late."

"Yes, I'm so sorry Miss Emily," Mark tried to explain, "I was studying for an exam..."

"Shut up," interrupted Emily. Mark closed his mouth and looked up into her gorgeous green eyes. In her sexy stiletto boots she was almost a head taller than him. She stepped aside and said, "Don't just stand there, get in here."

Mark stepped inside and Emily closed and locked the door. She stepped in front of him and crossed her arms under her large, firm breasts, causing Mark to notice her prominent nipples. She commanded, "Strip."

Mark jumped at her command; he knew the drill. He removed his shoes, placing them beside the door. Then he quickly removed and folded each article of clothing, depositing them on top of his shoes. She watched as he obediently disrobed then he turned to face her.

"I don't care why you were late," stated Emily, matter of fact, "You were late, that's all that matters."

Mark tried to explain again, "Yes Miss Emily I..."

She moved directly in front of him, her face hovering over him, causing him to stop speaking. "Did I not tell you to shut up?" asked Emily in the bitchiest tone she could muster. She stared down at Mark and waited to see if he would try to talk again. He didn't, but his small penis began growing into an erection as he stared down at her boots. Emily smiled down at his little member as it grew. She knew Mark enjoyed every second of their "interactions". She enjoyed it as well. She found that she really liked bossing him around.

She said, "Don't tell me you were late because you were studying. You and I both know you're failing your classes. You're flunking out of Criminal Justice which is probably the easiest major at BC. Tell me I'm wrong."

Mark's face burned red and his small penis protruded in front of him but he said nothing.

Emily waited a long moment to see if he would respond. Finally she slid her right boot closer to him and snapped her fingers, pointing at it. He dropped to the floor and began licking the soft leather at her toes. She said, "God you are so pathetic. You can't even be on time to lick my boots."

He nodded as he continued to lick. She watched him for a moment and said, "You're going to have to find a job if you can't pass your classes."

"Muh, huh," Mark responded as he continued licking.

"Press harder, I can't feel your tongue," admonished Emily.

Mark pressed hard as he obediently licked the black leather.

"That's better," said Emily, "I need your tongue nice and strong."

She felt her pussy getting wet as she watched this young man cower at her feet. She said, "Maybe you can get a job at a shoe store, cleaning boots. You'd like that wouldn't you."

She let him lick for a few more minutes, then she said, "Enough."

Mark craned his neck and looked up. Emily's glorious, unobtainable pussy was plainly visible under her leather skirt, her dark red pubic hair neatly trimmed into a short, narrow strip. She allowed him to look longingly at her sex for a long moment.

Finally she said, "When are you going to fuck this pussy?"

"Never," said Mark as he shook his head and stared at her thin labia.

Emily smiled and agreed, "You are exactly right, I don't fuck tiny dick losers do I?"

Mark's face burned but he remained quiet.

"Do I?" shouted Emily, "Answer me!"

"No you don't," said Mark, he dropped his gaze to her boot. The toe glistening with his saliva.

She said, "I won't let you fuck me, but if you behave I may let you lick it."

Mark looked up at her face hopefully.

She peeled her skirt up, smiled and said, "Do you want to lick it?"

He shifted his gaze to her pink folds of heaven and said, "Yes please Miss Emily."

"We'll see, it depends on how well you take your punishment for being late," sneered Emily.

She pulled her skirt back into place, bent down and picked up his shoes and all his clothes. Mark watched from his hands and knees as she turned and walked away with his clothes, car keys, and phone. She looked incredible, her perfect ass swaying in leather and her sharp heels clicking on the floor.

She disappeared into her bedroom. A moment later she emerged and Mark's stomach dropped. She was carrying a wooden paddle and something he had never experienced. A shiny red ball gag dangling from a black rubber strap. She walked up to Mark and stopped in front of him. She grinned and said, "I got a new toy," she held it up and continued, "This will help you shut up." She took a moment to enjoy the frightened expression Mark's face. She placed the paddle on the floor then she said, "Get up on your knees."

He complied and she held the red ball in front of his mouth. He was frightened but he could never resist Emily. He opened his mouth a little and Emily filled it with the firm rubber ball, forcing it open. She wrapped the rubber strap around the back of his head and cinched the buckle tight, pulling is hair. He whimpered in pain, "Humph."

This was new for Mark and he was surprised to find it extremely exciting. He knew Emily was going to spank him and he would be unable to protest.

She turned and left Mark there, nude, on his knees, next to her front door, wearing only a bright red ball gag. She walked over to her Bluetooth speaker and turned it on. She used her phone to turn on some music to cover the sounds of the spanking she was about to administer. She put on her "Domme Session" playlist which was a collection of her favorite hard rock from the 2000's. The first song was by the band Korn. It was called Twisted Transistor.

The music started and she motioned to one of her kitchen table chairs and said, "Move that chair to the middle of the living room." Emily gently swatted her palm with the wooden paddle as she watched Mark prepare the room.

He put the chair in place and waited next to it. Emily slowly turned up the music, it was loud, but not too loud. The vocalist began singing:

******

Hey you, hey you. Devil's little sister

******

She moved over by Mark and took a seat on the straight back wooden chair. She scooted to the front of the chair and spread her legs wide. She pointed to the floor in front of her and said, "Get over here."

Mark scrambled to his hands and knees between her legs and found himself staring directly at Emily's perfect pink pussy.

She held him by the head and pulled his face close to her sex. She could feel her own wetness. She stroked his hair like a pet and admired the shiny red ball forcing his mouth open while simultaneously stifling any complaints.

The sight of her submissive toy staring longingly at her unobtainable pussy was so hot. She pulled his nose into her wetness and said, "Sniff it Mark, the pussy you'll never fuck."

Mark gratefully pressed his nose to her soft damp folds. Her feminine scent was almost overwhelming. He began rubbing her with his nose. Her instinct was to push him away but it actually felt good. She allowed him to slide his face on her slippery pussy for a long moment, heightening her own arousal.

She decided she would rather have an orgasm from Mark's tongue than his nose. She pushed him away and said, "Bring me the paddle."

Mark hurried over to the front door and retrieved the paddle. He returned to her side. She took the paddle then looked up at Mark and patted her lap. His stomach fluttered at the thought of what was next. Emily was strong and her spankings were painful.

Despite his fear, Mark's penis was stranding straight out. He folded himself over Emily's bare thighs, pacing his palms on the floor. Her legs were warm and silky smooth. She allowed his rigid little penis to drop between her thighs and she clamped her legs tight together, locking him in position. Mark thrilled at the sensation. He was a virgin and this was as close as his cock ever got to a real vagina. Her warm, silky legs felt marvelous against his sensitive manhood.

She began rubbing the cold wooden paddle over his vulnerable ass cheeks. He speculated that if she would just keep his cock clamped between her silky thighs for a few minutes he could probably have an orgasm.

The song continued:

******

Hey you, hey you

This won't hurt a bit...

******

Emily loved combining music with her domination sessions.

Of course Emily would never allow Mark to fuck her, but his hard little penis, so close to her naked pussy was turning her on, or perhaps it was the fact that she was about to paddle her submissive toy's ass.

She slid the polished wood over his ass cheeks and said, "Do you know why you are you being punished Mark?"

He nodded and tried to respond through the ball gag, "I mad ooh waiaa."

"Yes Mark, you made me wait," agreed Emily. She used her phone to turn the music up a little louder. She said, "I don't like to wait." She raised the paddle and began spanking to the beat.

Smack! Smack! Smack! She enjoyed the song as Mark writhed in pain on her lap and the song went on:

******

Between you and me, don't fit,

Music do

Forever preaching.

Fuck you too.

Your scream's a whisper...

******

Pain exploded on his ass, extinguishing any hope of an orgasm. Yes, Emily enjoyed dominating Mark, controlling him, getting her way, always.

She felt her pussy getting even more wet. She continued swatting again and again. Tears welled up in Mark's eyes and he began drooling past the ball gag.

Before the evening was over she would enjoy a nice orgasm from Mark's skilled mouth as he knelt between her thighs, right in her living room. Eventually she would send him home, denied and sexually frustrated, with strict orders to not masturbate. She had learned that Mark was more obedient when she denied his orgasm.

Emily enjoyed her time dominating Mark but she knew their Junior year was drawing to a close. She wanted to find a good summer job that related to her future career in marketing. She had applied for several summer internships and she was particularly hopeful for a spot at a nationwide company that was headquartered in Boston called Driftstone Inc. In fact, she was willing to bend the rules to make sure she got what she wanted.

She had successfully used her sexuality to claim Mark as her subservient plaything. She had a theory that she could use the same methods to manipulate powerful men to her advantage.

******

Steve Harris was the CEO of Driftstone Inc., a multimillion-dollar corporation. He was 48 years old and married. He and his wife Sarah had been married for twenty-two years but never had kids. Sarah was 45 years old and very sexy with a slim frame and large, augmented breasts. She was a self-admitted "cougar" and enjoyed flirting with younger men.

Steve was aware of his wife's flirty personality and he considered it harmless fun for her. He enjoyed her sexual confidence despite the fact that their sex life had diminished in recent years. He enjoyed flirting as well so he felt that turnabout was fair play.

It was late spring and time for Driftstone Inc. to bring summer interns on staff. Historically Steve had no involvement in interviewing or choosing interns but this year something was different. He had received an information packet from Boston College on the interns that had applied. Once he saw the contents of the envelope, he was going to discard it. Just before he dropped it in his trash can he thought better of it. He took a moment to thumb through the stapled pages.

The booklet fell open to an extraordinarily beautiful young woman. It was a small black and white portrait but Steve couldn't stop looking at her beautiful face and perfectly straight white teeth. He decided to look at the other applicants. There were four men and three other women. All of whom were quite homely and unremarkable.

He read the name out loud of the beauty that had caught his eye, "Emily Stone."

He took out his cell phone which was a personal device, owned by him. He turned off WiFi to get off the company network. Then he googled her name and school. In short order her found the first page of her Instagram account with a nice photo of her. She must have been at a wedding because she was wearing a formal green dress with wedding decorations in the background. He could see that she had green eyes and silky-smooth skin.