Office Big Shot Humiliated

John, a 42-year old middle manager who thought the world of himself had been eying the new intern Jenny, barely 21, for a couple of weeks now. She was rather petite and very cute. He was looking for an opening to move in on her. His opportunity came when there was a rush to get a project to the client. When John found out Jenny was involved in research for the early stages of the project he approached her about helping him tie together loose ends for their portion of the larger contract. Being a new intern and eager to please and show her commitment she readily agreed. It was decided the two of them would stay late later in the week to complete the tasks.

That evening while other staff lingered around John and Jenny worked diligently to do what they needed to do. John was impressed by Jenny's ability and contributions. They worked so well together that the tasks they needed to complete were mostly done by the time the last other staff person left for the evening.

At one point John went over to where Jenny was studying pie charts on a screen and put his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened but didn't do anything.

John started talking some trash trying to impress her but it was doing nothing more than breaking her concentration. He again got in her space lightly brushing her hair.

Jenny's expression tightened, and she looked up at him and in a polite and forgiving manner said. "John, I'm trying to figure out this stuff you asked me to do but you keep interrupting me."

John's hand reached out and after grabbing her wrist said, "No, you're going to listen to me. There's time for that later"

Jenny snapped back with annoyance in her voice, "John, please take your hand off my wrist."

John held tight and put his other arm around her shoulders.

In that moment the dynamics of the situation changed. Jenny's eyes narrowed, and she went into self defense mode moving with a swiftness that took John totally by surprise. With a twist and a pull, she had him off balance, his wrist in a painful lock. She had moved from calm to a state of readiness in the blink of an eye.

John yelped, trying to jerk away. "What the hell, Jenny? "Let go of me," he yelped with a trace of fear in his voice.

He tried to tug his arm free, but her grip was like iron. "You're hurting me. Is this some sort of game," he stammered."

Her grip tightened, and she leaned in, her voice a serious whisper. "Please stick to business and don't touch me again."

The office chair scraped against the floor as John stumbled backward, trying to get away. He hadn't noticed before, but Jenny was strong--much stronger than one would expect looking at her.

But John, if anything, was persistent and he made the fatal mistake of trying to grab her again to regain control of the situation.

What John didn't know but was about to find out is that Jenny was an expert in self defense. Her father was a trainer for elite military personnel and had taught her well.

Having given him his chance to back off that he didn't heed, with a sudden, fluid movement, Jenny's leg shot out like a coiled spring, striking John's knee and sending him to the floor. He landed hard, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could react, she was on top of him, her legs pinning his arms to the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his wrist as she bent it to an unnatural angle.

Panic began to replace his anger. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, the room suddenly too hot. "What are you doing?" he managed to choke out.

Jenny's gaze was cold. "You're the one who started this, John."

Terror filled John's eyes as he was helplessly pinned to the floor by the smaller female. He couldn't do anything about his predicament. She was way too strong and agile.

"Jenny, let me up! You're hurting me! It's not funny!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the otherwise quiet office. She didn't flinch, her stare unwavering.

As she increased pressure on his back John yelled, "Jenny, stop it, that hurts," his face contorted in pain. He bucked wildly, trying to throw her off but to no avail. "You're crazy, he screamed!"

Her grip never loosened. "I'm not playing, John."

John's fear turned to fury. He thrashed beneath her, trying to free himself from her hold. "You bitch! Get off me," he screamed.

Jenny's eyes remained focused, her breathing steady. "I will when I'm good and ready and not a second before," she said firmly.

John's adrenaline surged, and he managed to wrench one arm free. He swung it at her with all his strength, his fist connecting with her cheek. She grunted but didn't move. Instead, she grabbed his arm again and bent it back, applying more pressure until he yelped.

John was now terror-stricken. He was in over his head. "Jenny, stop! You're going to break my arm!" His voice was desperate now, all his earlier bravado gone.

But Jenny's expression remained unchanged. "I think I need to teach you a lesson you'll remember," she said in a composed yet threatening voice. "You don't put your hands on me, or anyone else, unless they allow you to or you're willing to accept the consequences."

John's eyes flashed with anger and as he struggled unsuccessfully to get out from under her grip with new found confidence replied. "Oh, stop being a prude. And just because you know some self-defense moves doesn't mean you're anything special," he jeered, trying to push her off. "You think you're so tough?"

Jenny in a serious tone shot back, "I'm just not getting through to you, am I. Well there's other ways to make my point," she shouted. She made sure his arms were completely immobilized in a way that allowed one of her arms to be free. She made quick work of unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants zipper.

This made the older and bigger man turn a dark shade of crimson and wiggle around even more aggressively in a determined effort to get away but to no avail. As he did this he said in an increasingly panicking voice and short of breath, "What are you doing? Stop that."

Jenny simply replied, "You'll see soon enough."

With his pants undone she next with surprising ease flipped him onto his stomach. He gasped as the air was pushed out of his lungs and his face slammed into the cold, hard floor. The world spun for a moment before everything went still. He felt her knee press into the small of his back, keeping him pinned and giving her leverage for her next action. His arms were wrenched behind him, and she secured them with a move so swift they were rendered useless even before he realized what she was doing.

"Now," she said in a calm, confident tone, "it's time for your lesson, mister."

Jenny pulled off his shoes, her movements quick and efficient. John's eyes went wide with shock, his body struggling violently beneath her. "What the hell are you doing, Jenny?" he demanded, his voice laced with terror.

"Ensuring you learn your lesson," she replied calmly, as if this was a perfectly normal office activity. "Move about all you want but you're not going anywhere."

John's eyes were saucers, his body trembling. "Jenny, no," he pleaded. "Please don't."

But Jenny's expression was one of cold resolve. She had made a decision, and she wasn't backing down. With a swift motion she tugged his pants over his torso and peeled them down and off his legs throwing them across the room. "You need to understand," she said firmly, "that there are lines you don't cross."

John' squeal of fright was high-pitched and desperate as Jenny separated him from his pants.

"Jenny, stop! What the hell is wrong with you?" He squirmed and bucked, trying to break free, but her hold on him was too strong.

With another quick, practiced movement, Jenny had John's underpants around his ankles, leaving him exposed and vulnerable on the floor. She tossed these across the room too.

John's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he writhed in embarrassment and fear. She had taken his dignity and his masculinity was in taters "What the fuck are you doing?" he bellowed, his voice cracking with panic. "You're insane! Someone help me!"

But the office was empty, the only sounds were their heavy breathing and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above.

Jenny took a moment to look at his naked backside. "You're the one who's lost it, John," she said, her voice a low murmur. "And now you're going to pay the consequences as you learn a lesson."

She repositioned herself to gain leverage and then without another word she raised her hand and brought it down with a sharp crack onto the pale flesh of his exposed backside. John's body jolted, and a guttural cry of pain erupted from his throat. She waited for a moment, letting the sting settle before delivering another blow. And another. And another. Each smack was meticulously placed, alternating cheeks, building a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was painful.

John's body began to wither beneath her, his legs kicking wildly as he tried to escape the relentless barrage. His face contorted in agony, and tears streamed down his cheeks. The sound of her hand slapping against his skin echoed through the deserted office, punctuated by his pathetic sobs. The initial shock of the situation had worn off, replaced by a deep, visceral fear of what she might do next.

Jenny's hand didn't stop moving, landing with a vicious thwack every few seconds. Her palm stung, but she ignored the pain, focusing instead on the crimson blossoming across John's bare skin. His cries grew louder, more desperate, and she knew he was close to breaking.

John's body writhed and jerked with each impact, his legs kicking futilely as he attempted to escape her firm hold. His face was a mask of pain and humiliation, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He had never felt so powerless, so utterly at the mercy of someone else.

"Jenny, please," he sobbed, his voice barely recognizable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

Jenny's hand paused, hovering over his scarlet flesh. For a moment, she almost felt pity. But she knew that pity would only lead to more of the same behavior from him in the future. She needed to make sure this was a lesson he never forgot.

With a deep breath, she raised her hand once more, bringing it down with a resounding smack that resonated through the room. John's body arched off the floor, his voice a high-pitched wail of pain. He kicked his legs, trying to cover his exposed backside, but she was too fast, too precise. Her hand found its target over and over again, each blow a little harder than the last.

Finally, she stopped, her palm stinging and red. John lay there, panting heavily, his body trembling. She got off of him, giving him space. He sat up slowly, his face a mess of tears and anguish. His eyes remained lowered, not wanting to confront his young, female disciplinarian. He rubbed his very sore backside and hoped that this nightmare was over.

Jenny's voice was cold and firm. "You're going to sit here, John, and think about what you've done. And maybe, just maybe, you'll start to understand that we're all equal, feeling human beings. No one deserves to be treated like you treated me."

John's sobs had turned into hiccups, his eyes red and swollen from whimpering during the beating.. "I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice shaking. "Please, just let me go."

Jenny's expression was unyielding. "Not until you understand." She gestured at his disheveled clothes. "Take off your shirt."

John's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. He knew he was outmatched, outsmarted, and utterly at her mercy. He thought about running out of the room to the safety of another part of the office but he was frightened at what she would do if she caught him.

With trembling hands, he unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, revealing his pale, sweat-slicked torso. He sat there completely feeling more vulnerable than ever before in his life.

Jenny nodded, satisfaction flickering across her face. "Good," she said, her voice still calm and controlled. "And the socks."

John's eyes widened in horror. "What?"

"You heard me," Jenny said, her voice devoid of any warmth. "I want you naked."

John's eyes darted around the room, desperation setting in. He knew he was no match for her, not in this state. He fumbled to get his socks off his feet and tossed them to the side. He sat there and although he did his best to cover himself from her stare, he felt utterly exposed to her, his face burning with shame.

"Stand up," Jenny ordered, her voice as unyielding as steel. "I want to get a good look at your pathetic, weak body."

John, fearing what she would do if he refused, stumbled to his feet, his cheeks burning with humiliation. He desperately tried to hide his genitals with his hands from her view as he rose. Jenny's eyes looked him up and down inspecting his body. Her gaze was cold and unflinching. She was amused to herself at his feeble effort to maintain some decorum of modesty. It only served to accentuate her control and domination over him.

"You're going to stand there, naked and ashamed, and listen to what I have to say."

He felt the cool air of the office brush against his bare skin, sending a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet hers.

"Look at me," Jenny said, her voice as sharp as a knife.

John's eyes reluctantly met hers. He had never felt so utterly humiliated in his life.

"John," Jenny began, her voice softer now, but no less firm, "you need to understand that your actions have consequences. You can't just go around grabbing people, especially not me." She took a step closer, her eyes never leaving his.

With a swift, almost graceful motion, Jenny pulled her chair from her desk and placed it in the middle of the room. She sat down, and gestured for John to step closer. He did so, his bare feet shuffling awkwardly on the cold floor..

"Turn around for me," she barked, her voice leaving nothing for interpretation. "Let's have another look at that red behind of yours."

John's eyes flew open at her words, his mind racing. He was a grown man, and yet here he was, exposed and at the mercy of a young female intern. It was a situation so ludicrous, so utterly humiliating, that it was almost too much to bear. But there was something about the way she spoke, something in the tone of her voice that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't just anger or spite--there was a hunger there, a need for control that was palpable. stripping away every ounce of dignity he had ever held.

John's breath hitched in his throat and before he could respond to her order he felt her hand firmly grip his shoulder, guiding him in turning around. His mind raced, trying to understand what was happening, what she wanted. His cheeks burned with a mix of fear and embarrassment as he was slowly rotated to face away from her. His face was a mask of agony and embarrassment as he presented his bruised backside for her scrutiny.

The room was silent except for the sound of his own ragged breathing. He felt utterly exposed, his bare skin prickling with the cold of the office air. He knew what she meant--she wanted to see the damage she had inflicted, to make sure her message had sunk in. He also felt a new low in his self-esteem wondering if she was gloating inside when looking at the results of her thrashing and knowing she completely owned him.

Her eyes scanned his backside. The skin was a mottled mess of red and purple, the stark evidence of her power over him. Her handiwork was clear, a canvas of pain and dominance painted across his once proud form. John's shoulders slumped in defeat..

"Look at you," she stated with confidence and a strong dose of desired intimidation, "The pretty boy of the firm beat up, stripped naked and spanked on the bare bottom by little old me, the young, female intern. Who would have thought?"

John's whole body was shaking, his sobs subsiding into pathetic whimpers. "Jenny... please... can I get dressed now? Haven't you done enough? You've made your point." His voice was barely above a whisper, his pride and masculinity shattered into a million pieces at her feet.

But Jenny was not yet through with him. She told him to come closer. When he did, her hand reached out coming to rest on his backside, her grip firm but not painful. "Not yet," she said, her voice low and firm. "We're not done here. Feeling a little warm back here," she said sarcastically as she rubbed his red and very sore backside.

Jenny's expression was a mix of anger and disgust. "You see what you've done, John?" she said, her voice sharp. "This is what happens when you push someone too far."

John nodded, his eyes still fixed on the floor. "Yes, I see," he mumbled, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, can I put my clothes back on?"

Jenny leaned back in the chair, her arms crossed, as if deciding what she wanted to do. "Not yet," she said, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "

John's eyes darted around the room, wishing there was a way out of this hellish situation. But there was no escape. He was trapped, both physically and emotionally.

"Bend over," Jenny ordered, her voice a cold command that sent a fresh wave of fear through his trembling body.

John's head swung backward and almost involuntarily he croaked, "What, why, c'mon Jenny hasn't this gone far enough."

"You heard me," Jenny said, her voice as cold as the steel she had become. "Bend over."

John's heart pounded in his chest and he swallowed hard. But the look in her eyes was unyielding. He knew she wasn't going to let up until she had made her point. Slowly, his legs trembling, he leaned forward..

"Further," Jenny demanded, her tone as cold as the steel building that kept him in this cage of his own making.

John's legs quivered, his eyes brimming with a mix of fear and embarrassment as he leaned further. He was painfully aware of his own vulnerability, his bare cheeks parted and presented to her like an offering of penance. He didn't feel so cool and self assured anymore. His manliness stolen by a young female half his size.

"John, do you know what submissive means?" Jenny's voice was calm, almost conversational, as she leaned forward in her chair to get a better view.

John's face was a picture of agony as he nodded, "Y-y-yeah," he sheepishly murmured, his voice thick with fear and despair.

"Good," Jenny said, a hint of satisfaction in her tone. "You're learning."

John could feel her eyes on him, the weight of her gaze like a physical force pressing him down. He knew she was watching, scrutinizing every inch of his exposed, vulnerable body. His cheeks burned with a heat that had nothing to do with the spanking she had just given him.

Spread yourself for me, she demanded.

He turned quickly to look at her and said, " I'm not going to do that. It's just way too demeaning. Haven't you done enough already?

She was unyielding. First, almost laughing, she shot back, "Demeaning, no more demeaning than being stripped naked and spanked by me." Then she barked, "Do it now before I get off this chair and teach you a lesson about obeying."

Her words scared him more than he wanted to admit. With trembling hands, John reached back, his fingers grabbing the tender, bruised flesh of his backside. He winced at the pain, his eyes squeezing shut as he did as he was told, spreading his cheeks apart. He could feel the cool air of the office caressing his most private area, a stark contrast to the fiery pain that still lingered from her punishment.

Jenny's gaze remained unwavering, her eyes drinking in the sight of his submission. The red, swollen flesh was a testament both to her power and the undignified position to her authority over him.

"Wider," she said, her voice a soft but firm command.