Date: Mon, 28 Dec 2009 22:38:55 EST From: Mikeallanb@aol.com Subject: The Summer Intern (F/f, D/s) by JYM The Summer Intern ( F/f, D/s) by JYM ============================ I was lucky to get the summer intern position at Culpepper and Smith. The only reason I got it was the sudden illness of the girl who'd had it. It came at the last minute and I was the only one they could contact to fill in for her. I was just twenty at the time and still very much the tomboy, even after two years of college. An internship at C&S was a plum job, a ticket to the big time in my field for an ambitious person. And I was determined not to blow it. If I did good, I'd certainly be invited back again the following summer. I got a call on Sunday evening from the woman who'd be my supervisor for the summer. She told me to wear jeans and a t-shirt because we were going to be cleaning files out of an old storage room. I wasn't thrilled, but I did as I was told. The work was hot and dirty and took the best part of the first week. At the end of the first day, I asked my supervisor if it would be okay to wear shorts the next day. She thought about it for a few moments before saying that shorts wouldn't be acceptable. "But," she continued, "You could wear a denim skirt. Just not too short." I thanked her and that's what I wore the next day. It was much cooler and it brought some attention. As I said, I'm a tomboy, but a cute tomboy and my legs are my best feature. As for the rest, I'm 5'8", 120 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, olive/tan complexion. My hair is short which adds to the boyish look. For those who want numbers, mine are 34b-25-34. My long slim legs are my best feature and I don't mind showing them off. In fact, I enjoy showing them off and I wear my skirts rather short. It was still a hellish day in the storage room. Some of the files were more than 75 years old and covered with dust. It was a good thing not to have allergies. After lunch, one of the partners came in and told us that there was an old file she wanted to save for research purposes. She gave us the name of the client and the approximate date and asked us to keep an eye out for it. As she was talking, I was crouched next to one of the old storage boxes, checking each file against a list of files that we'd been told to save. The partner, Jessica Hill, was one of the youngest in the firm's history and one of the most ambitious according to talk around the office. She'd just made partner at the age of thirty and even though this was only my second day on the job I'd already heard stories about her. Curious, I listened to what she was saying and glanced up at her from time to time. She was certainly worth looking at - a tall blonde with a slender, athletic figure and long beautiful legs. I haven't mentioned it, but I'd just broken up with my latest boyfriend. The relationship had lasted only three months and I was glad to be out of it. In my two years at college I'd had five failed relationships, four with guys and one with a woman. All of them had failed for the same basic reason - nobody was willing to supply what I wanted (and needed), a strong hand to guide me. And to spank me when I need it. But I noticed that Jessica had postioned herself so she could see me and she seemed to prolong the conversation longer than strictly necessary. I turned slightly, exposing more of my legs, and her eyes flickered back and forth. I was nicely tanned even though it was only the middle of May and I hadn't worn stockings that morning. The sandals I'd been wearing were over in the corner, so I was barefooted too. My little experiment seemed to indicate that there was some interest on her part and I found myself getting excited. Jessica left after running out of things to say about the file and we continued working. Later on in the afternoon my supervisor, Jill, was summoned to a meeting and I was left to work alone. Jessica came in a few minutes after Jill left. She came over and introduced herself to me and asked if we'd had any luck finding the file. I shook my head and said, "No, ma'am, we haven't" She smiled and said, "My name is Jessica, you don't have to call me ma'am. " I dipped my head in sort of a mini bow and said, "Yes, ma'am". I was trying to create an impression of submissiveness and I was successful. To enhance that impression, I went back and crouched beside the box I was working on, keeping my knees pointed toward Jessica. As I crouched, I made sure that my skirt pulled up so that she got a good look at my smooth sleek thighs. And I said a silent prayer of thanks for all the long hours I put in working out and running. She walked over and stood looking down at me. "If you find the file, sign it out and bring it to my office. I'll be here late tonight, until at least nine p.m." I nodded. "Yes, ma'am, but I'll be leaving at five." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Would you be willing to work late if I authorized the overtime? This is really important to me." `And to me to,' I thought to myself. "Yes, ma'am, I would. The money would be nice." She nodded and said she'd take care of things and then she left. When Jill returned she said that overtime had been authorized and I could work as late as I wanted, but no later than 10 p.m. Jill left at five p.m. I took a short break and got a Diet Coke from the soda machine. Then it was back to work. I didn't find the file that night and I didn't see Jessica either. I was kind of disappointed because I was sure she'd make an appearance sometime during the evening. I left at 10 p.m. and when I was signing out I noticed that Jessica had signed out at 8:05. I worked late on Wednesday without finding the file that Jessica wanted and I didn't see her at all that day. On Thursday, shortly after 8:00 p.m., I opened a box and found the file right in front. I pulled it out and took time to ensure that it was the right one. Then I signed it out and took it to Jessica's office. I was wearing the same skirt I'd worn on Tuesday with a differnt top. And I was wearing my favorite pair of Reeboks instead of sandals. The office was pretty much deserted, but Jessica was still at her desk and her face lit up with a big smile when I tapped on the door jam and she looked up and saw the file folder in my hand. She invited me in with a wave of her hand and I walked across to her desk and handed over the file. She took a quick look through and then set it down. "This is so great! How can I ever thank you?' I shook my head. "No thanks are necessary, Ms Hill. I was just doing my job. I should thank you for the overtime. The money will come in handy." As I talked, I noticed a polished wooden paddle lying on the top shelf of the credenza behind her. I was surprised to see it and she noticed immediately and asked if anything was wrong. I hesitated for a moment before anwering. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just surprised to see that paddle lying there." She grinned and picked it up, holding it out for me to take. "It's a left-over from my college days. Our sorority initiation paddle." I hefted it and glanced at her. "It must really sting," I whispered. She nodded. "Yes, I reddened many a cute bottom with that." We stared at each other in silence for a long moment. Then I handed the paddle back and asked her if I could go. She nodded and I turned and started for the door. I was halfway there when I heard her clear her throat. " Sara, have you been a naughty girl lately?" I stopped and turned slowly to face her. She was standing behind her desk, holding the paddle with a strangely intent look on her face. I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Ms. Hill, I've been a very naughty girl." "What have you done?" I took a deep breath. "I lied to my landlord about why the rent was late. I masturbated in the shower yesterday. And I'm a terrible tease." "Close the door and lock it. A naughty girl like you needs to be punished. " I walked over and closed her office door and locked it. Then I walked back and stood in front of her desk. She asked me how many strokes I thought I deserved. I thought about it for a moment and replied, "Ten, at least. Maybe fifteen." "Very well, fifteen it will be. Pull your skirt up and tuck it into your waistband in back." I obeyed, blushing. It was so deliciously humiliating, just as I'd dreamed it would be. I was wearing a pair of plain white cotton panties that day. If I'd known something was going to happened I would have worn something sexier. "Spankings should be applied to a bare bottom, don't you agree?" I nodded, my excitement mounting. "Yes, ma'am, I agree." And I slid my panties down to my knees, blushing as I bared my bottom to her gaze. "Very good. Now bend over my desk and rest your weight on your forearms. Don't move or I'll start over." I obeyed, staring out the window as I waited for the paddling to begin. She stepped up behind me and I felt her fingertips trail across my bottom. " Such a pretty ass! So nice and firm and tight. And smooth. It almost seems a shame to put welts on it. Almost." Her voice trailed off and I thought that the paddling would begin. But then she spoke again. "Do you have a pretty anus?" I glanced over my should and met her eyes. "I'm not sure, ma'am." "Show me. Now." Blushing again, I reached back and spread my buttocks, exposing my anus for her inspection. I was trembling as I did so, not from fear but from excitment. And humiliation. The delicious humiliation that I craved. I felt the tip of her finger circle my anus and I moaned, a low moan that brought a smile to her face. Her finger circled in a rested lightly on my anus. "Do you like this?" "Yes, oh yes!" "Have you been taken anally? Or had anything inserted during sex play?" I shook my head. "No, ma'am. Never." "Nothing ever? Not even a rectal thermometer?" I thought for a second and remembered. "Yes, my mom used to take my temperature that way." "How old were you the last time she did it?" I blushed again as I answered. "Seventeen." "And?" "And I enjoyed it. Very much." She chuckled and the pressure increased for a moment, then she withdrew her finger without really penetrating me. I moaned in disappointment and she chuckled again. "Later, my sweet. Later..." Then, reflected in the window, I saw her arm go up and then sweep down. The paddle cracked across my ass and I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming. "Was that hard enough?" I nodded. "Yes, plenty hard." She heard the quaver in my voice. "Are you going to scream?" "Yes." She walked around and opened a drawer in the credenza, removing a ball gag which he put into my mouth. I stared out the window again as she secured the strap at the back of my neck. Then the paddling resumed and I was free to scream. And I did scream, with tears streaming down my face I threw my head back as each stroke landed and screamed into the gag. The release was as wonderful as the pain was terrible! When it was over, Jessica cautioned me not to move. She took the gag off and then I felt her hand slip between my legs. I knew what she'd find. I was wet, very wet, almost sopping wet. Certainly wetter than I'd ever been. Her finger slipped easily between my inner lips and deep into my wet vagina. I moaned and wiggled my bottom, pushing back against her hand. I heard her chuckle. "I love it! You're such a hot, wet little slut! Aren't you?" I glanced over my shoulder and grinned through my tears. "Yes, ma'am. I' m a hot, wet little cunt." I paused. "You're hot, wet little cunt." I held my breath, waiting for her response. "Yes, MY hot, wet little cunt. And don't you forget it!" I relaxed, content. I had found a strong mistress to take control. "What do you want exactly?" She continued to stroke me as she spoke. "I want a strong mistress to take control of me. To make all the decisions. To relieve me of responsibility for my personal life. To guide me. Teach me. Use me. Punish me. Own me." I glanced over my shoulder to gauge her reaction. She was staring out the window with a thoughtful look on her face, still absentmindedly stroking my wet cunt. Then her eyes focused on me and she smiled. "Any limits or are you asking for complete slavery." I thought for a moment. "I don't want to be killed or maimed. Other than that, no limits." I paused for a moment as a new thought occurred to me. "At least I don't want to be killed anytime soon. But later, when you tire of me, I would rather be hanged than set free. I have fantasies about being stripped and hanged." She nodded. "Agreed. I won't kill you or maim you." She withdrew her hand and I moaned in disappoinment. I had been close to orgasm. She held her hand in front of my face and I licked it clean, enjoying the taste of my own juices. Then she opened the drawer in the credenza and took out a plain leather collar. Burgandy in color and rich-looking. She tossed it onto the desk and told me to put it own to acknowledge my slavery. I picked it up and started to put it on but she barked, "No, you have to be on your knees, nude, when you don the collar." I stopped and finished undressing. Then I dropped to my knees and fastened the collar around my neck. She leaned against the desk and told me to get down on my belly and lick her shoes in submission. I obeyed happily. Freedom was a thing of the past. I had become a slave.