Boss Lady Pt. 03

I had more or less forgotten my apartment for the following weeks. I brought a supply of clothing - underwear, fresh shirts for work, etc., to Ms Jenna's. I was given use of a half bath next to the washer and dryer. I hung my suits on the back of the door, and the rest I stowed in the small cabinet below the sink. Ms Jenna came there once each day to inspect.

The learning curve was steep, to be sure. As Ms Jenna trained and guided me, I became more aware of my deeply conflicted feelings about women - how I hated and resented them, and how I longed to have that exposed, and to atone for those sordid thoughts and feelings at the feet of a woman who knows the score, i.e., who knows what a contemptible, sad-sack loser I truly am. That was where Ms Jenna came in. She would help me to change, but she would always be sure to remind me that I was a lowlife. A dog. I was slowly learning.

I cooked Ms Jenna's meals and was grateful that I had some skills along those lines. In the kitchen, I wore the outfit provided me. This consisted of an apron that hung from my neck, covering my chest and reaching to my knees. It was a printed fabric with images of cartoon images: Tweety Bird, Humpty Dumpty, Spongebob, and the like. Besides the apron, I wore a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers. This was my kitchen uniform. Breakfasts could be stressful as Ms Jenna was very particular about how her eggs were done.

The first time I made an omelet for her, she was not pleased. She looked at the plate as I carefully set it before her. She spread a napkin on her lap and I refilled her coffee cup.

Ms Jenna then lifted the plate from the table and dropped it onto the floor. The plate broke, and eggs were strewn everywhere.

"Take this out of my sight, you idiot." she said matter-of-factly. I immediately fell to the floor and began scooping up the debris.

"Get it off the floor, Tim. Clean the floor so that there is no trace left, then make my omelet CORRECTLY!! You have five minutes. Don't keep me waiting."

I ran to the broom closet in the hall and found a dustbin and brush. I began to sweat from anxiety. Moisture showed through on my apron. I was attending to the floor with paper toweling, hoping that I would finish in time. I looked up briefly at Ms Jenna who was cooly sipping coffee and reading the Wall Street Journal. At the stove, I found myself fumbling with the pans and watching the clock. In the final seconds, I placed the fresh omelet before her. She looked at it approvingly, much to my relief.

"Go clean up the stove, then get your food dish."

I dashed about at the stove, happy to have gotten through the crisis. Then, I brought my food dish to the table. I placed it on the floor at Ms Jenna's feet. I stayed by the bowl on all fours, waiting. Soon, bits of food dropped into my dish, and I quietly lapped them up. How sweet to dine from a bowl at my mistress's feet!

And so, over time I became more consistent with the meals, and Ms Jenna seemed content. On weekends, often while Ms Jenna watched soccer games in the living room, I would clean the floors and vacuum the carpets. I'd also change Ms Jenna's bed linen. While I worked, I would hear Mistress hooting and cheering her team on. The volume on the TV was up, and there was a general din coming from that quarter of the apartment. I checked in with her frequently. Sometimes she would have me get snacks for her - chips with artichoke dip, peeled shrimp, guacamole. She drank beer on these occasions, and could get quite impassioned about the game.

When doing weekend housework, I wore a castoff pair of Mistress's panties. I could barely get them on, they were so tight, and it was very uncomfortable for my genitals. I also looked a fool. My ass was barely covered. It just hung out to the sides. Sometimes, when serving refreshments, Ms Jenna would give me a hard pinch on my buttock, or give it a good slap. Normally, I jumped, and she would get a good laugh.

One Sunday, there was an important game; a semi-final that Ms Jenna's team would compete in. As the game progressed, I could sense that our team was struggling. Ms Jenna scowled at the screen, cursing under her breath. The normal levity and excitement of Sundays were distinctly absent in her demeanor.

In the final minutes, Ms Jenna remonstrated fiercely from her seat. She was quite furious!

"You stupid shits! How much are they paying you cocksuckers!"

I entered the room with a fresh beer and a refill on the chips. Ms Jenna, by now, was not only very angry. She was drunk.

I quietly placed the refreshments beside Mistress. She seethed at the edge of her seat. As I was exiting, I pitched forward from a blow from behind. The glassware and bag of chips I carried fell around me. Clearly, Ms Jenna had given me a full-on boot in the ass!

"Get up!" Mistress commanded, as she continued kicking me. I scrambled to my feet and faced her. I was afraid of what she might do to me!

Ms Jenna took a wide-legged stance, and fell to delivering a vicious series of blows. As she slapped me, she excoriated the team members she found to be negligent on the pitch.

"You fuck-up! Take this." she said, methodically slapping each reddened cheek in turn.

"You blew it, asshole!"

"Yes, ma'am! I could have done better. I'll play even harder next game!" I replied, knowing full well that this player was a dick-driven blockhead like me. Why not punish me? I would have messed up even worse.

It was really good to see Mistress disburden herself like that. I felt like I had served an important purpose. I don't believe women should have to internalize their rage at the injustice and callousness of men. I'm pleased that I am available for Mistress. I could always see that Ms Jenna was more relaxed and confident after she was done with me.

For quite some time, Mistress did not permit me to touch her in any way, except for thankful kisses to her hands after a session with the belt. She liked teasing me. She would casually walk naked in front of me, or come to breakfast naked. If she ever found me looking at her, I was in for it! So I kept my eyes down and did my work. She knew, of course, that I would sell my soul for a chance to simply kiss her feet.

Sometimes, returning from work, she would carelessly strip in the living room while watching the evening news. She would strut about with a drink in her hand and occasionally drop a garment. It was my duty to collect these items as they fell, and fold them neatly. After a day in the office watching her when I had the chance, it was a remarkable treat to see here beautiful body emerge from her business suit.

One time, she stripped from the waist down, wearing only her prim wool jacket and white blouse.

"How do you like the look, Timmy?" she asked, taking a few steps in front of me.

"You are a goddess, Ms Jenna." I replied from where I was kneeling, the outline of my erection showing clearly through my pants.

"On that topic, Tim, soon, I am going to allow you to worship me. I think you are ready to express yourself in this intimate way. Are you prepared for that? I feel that you know your place now, and it's time you showed me that you've learned it properly. Do you know what I expect?" she said, placing a foot on the arm of a chair. Her regal mound stood out prominently. In my most inner being, I fell to my knees before it.

" I feel, Ms Jenna, that I could best serve you as an obedient dog."

Yes, that goes without saying, doesn't it? Now, It's been a month since our... arrangement began, Tim. How often have I given you are strapping?"

"Eight times, Mistress."

"Some more difficult than others, would you say?"

"Yes, Ma'am." I said, remembering one recent session. I was still healing from it.

"That's right. Much depends on my mood at the time. I want to tell you, Tim, that you stood up well under the most severe of them. I was actually perspiring from the exertion of it, myself! So, kudos, Tim. You took a good whipping."

"Thank you, Ma'am." I said.

"And the wounds are healing well, eh?"

"Very nicely, thank you Ma'am!" I said, remembering her careful attention to dressing them.

"Excellent. Now, go to my room, undress, and get the belt."

My buttocks were still quite sore from the last whipping, but these times together were so sweet. In them I felt completely defeated and emptied of my arrogant biases. I was reduced, especially in the last session, to a quivering, sniffling, begging fool. One moment I was pleading with her to stop, the next to give it to me good. I had never felt so shattered inside, and yet so thankful. I swiftly made the preparations in the bedroom, secretly wishing for a reprise of her powerful performance. At the same time, I thought about the tenderness of my condition. The areas where the skin had broken were now forming scabs, and it would be, from a medical perspective, good to give them a rest.

I knelt naked in the middle of the floor with Mistress's belt neatly coiled before me. When she entered, she went to her dressing table and brought the chair from there and placed it about five feet from me. She sat and we faced each other.

"Don't worry about the belt, Tim. It's here as a reminder only."

'Sometimes I need it, Ma'am." I said, venturing a glance at her.

She removed her jacket and blouse, and I folded them and placed them to the side.

"Now, Tim, down to business. Why on earth should I allow a lowly worm like you to worship me?" she said with an amused look of disbelief.

"Because, Ma'am, you have shown me what I truly am. I remember thinking of you as just some haughty, conniving...well..."

"Well what? Come on, now. Be a man, Tim. What? A bitch?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I saw you as ...that."

"And?"

"Well, there was more to it than that, I discovered. You readily exposed me as someone who patronized and hated women. You saw through my games and said 'fuck you'! On top of that, you simply outclassed and outmaneuvered me at every turn."

"And I enjoyed bringing you down, Tim. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Ma'am. I've learned some hard lessons, and I can see myself much more clearly now."

"And what is this new image of Tim?"

"I'm, well... someone who needs to be controlled." I said. "And, I thank God every day that such a beautiful and competent woman has stepped up and broken me." I said, feeling the wonderful truth in the words, and a quaver of devotion in my voice.

"You say that I've broken you, Tim. Say more."

"Ever since you came to the firm, I've hated your coolness, your easy way with Grant. As though you were equals! And when I first tried to push you aside, you simply ignored me. You were riding high while I floundered in your wake."

"Tim, when did this hate become something different?"

"I started to admire your will, your strength, your intellect. I was still calling you bad names under my breath, but I also thought... well, it's hard to say it."

"I insist that you do. Proceed."

"I began to fantasize about the two of us being at the office late - just the two of us, and you would be standing at your desk going over figures. I, for my part, would quietly fall to my knees behind you and give your ass a soft kiss. It thrilled me to think of it! Finally, I could let my weak, trembling self come out and just be!"

"That's a lovely story, Tim! Kissing my bum! How sweet!" she said, and rose from her chair.

"Look at me, Tim." she directed, and I raised my eyes. There she stood, legs apart in a strong stance. I looked adoringly at her body.

"It makes sense, you know, you're being an asskisser. I sensed it all along." she said, walking around me. "I could feel your eyes on me. You weren't very good at hiding it."

she said, laughing.

"I thought about giving you a lobster bib anonymously for Valentine's Day so that you wouldn't drool on yourself!"

"I certainly would prize such a gift, Ma'am!" I said, excited by the image of wearing it.

"Well, you're in luck." she replied, then went to her dresser.

"Here you are, little Timmy. I'll put it on for you."

Ms Jenna approached, and unfurled the plastic bib. I looked down and saw the red image of a lobster displayed on my chest as I felt Mistress's fingers knot a bow at the back of my neck.

"Well, we know where to start then, don't we?" she said, a tone of mischief in her voice.

Ms Jenna stood two feet before me, turned her back, and displayed her gorgeous ass. My penis was jerking excitedly as I beheld the smooth and ample flesh.

"Now, let's not forget, my boy. You are here to worship. You obviously feel lustful desire, based on the angle of your ridiculous little organ. But you are here to show respect. Understood?" she queried, looking over her shoulder at me.

"Absolutely, Ma'am."

"So, then, what words of praise or respect do you have to offer my beautiful ass, Tim?" Mistress said, running her fingers lightly over her cheeks.

"I wish always to be behind it, to be able to look upon it."

"Really? Do you mean like looking at a television?" Ms Jenna shot back, giving me a glaring look.

"Oh, no! No! to revere it!"

"All right. Then tell me, what is it that you bow to? Explain your feelings behind this." she insisted.

"For me, the image of a strong woman's ass symbolizes Female power; the power of women over men. Ms Jenna, there are millions of weak, pretentious men out there who would secretly be very content to serve and attend to a capable woman, and in any way she chooses. The payoff for the weakling is that he can hide in her formidable shadow. This is what he desperately needs. So, you see, there is both a need a need for us, and a need in us."

"Yes, I suppose." she said, uncertainly. "Bring your leash."

I proceeded to go, on my knees, to where my leash and collar were, beside Mistress's bed. I returned with them in my teeth, and dropped them softly on the floor before Ms Jenna.

"Well, put it on, jackass."

"Sorry, Mistress. I...I...wasn't..."

"That's right. you weren't. Now, move it, dumb-ass. Jesus Christ."

I secured the leather collar and, when I drew nearer, Mistress stood over me and attached the leash. I began to frisk about from excitement, but Ms Jenna pulled up hard on the leash.

"Be still and prepare to worship."

With these words, Mistress turned her back to me, and I found myself staring at her wonderful ass.

"Little doggies are always sniffing other dogs' assholes. Have you noticed that, Tim?"

"I have, Ma'am. I'm a little doggie, too!"

Ms Jenna shifted her weight, and I watched mesmerized as the smooth, soft flesh of her buttocks moved languidly before me.

"However, not every dog gets to sniff my anus, Tim. Surely, you know it is something that is earned."

When Mistress spoke these words, a deep craving to have my face embraced between her warm cheeks swept through me. Oh! How I would show my devotion and respect if given the chance!

I began to whimper, and Mistress turned on her heel to gave me three sharp switches with the leash. Damn! If I didn't control myself, I'd never get my nose up her ass!

Naturally, I shut up at once. I looked down at the floor, waiting.

"Tim, I understand your excitement, but you need to be controlled. I enjoy whipping you, so it's not a big problem, but you must take control of yourself at some point."

"Yes, Ma'am." I said contritely.

Mistress knelt on the armchair, her rear facing me and her arms draped comfortably atop the back of the chair. I knelt as an atmosphere of holiness descended on the room. With a mild shock, I could see that Mistress's sacred mound was slightly visible. I could make out the line where the outer lips met, and the light thatch of pubic hair covering them. My eyes greedily traced the contours of her buttocks and thighs that so sweetly enshrined this display of her womanhood.

"Come here and bring your knee cushion, Tim. You'll be here for quite a while."

"My heart pounded as I came closer and positioned myself behind Ms Jenna. As I did this, I thought about the ways I'd treated her contemptuously, and how I had tried to prejudice my colleagues against her. Such foolishness, really. Here was a tough, capable woman. My antics at seeming superior were now quite laughable! I was now a dog who had been whipped properly and in every way: intellectually, emotionally, and with Mistress's belt.

"Just kneel there for a while, Tim. Consider your situation here. You are a beaten and broken man. Who beat you, Tim?"

"You beat me, Ms Jenna."

"And who broke you?"

"You did, Ma'am." I said, feeling the wisps and vestiges of my ridiculous male pride dissolve as I spoke these words.

"Do you like the view from back there, Timmy?"

"Oh, God. You're so beautiful, Ma'am!"

"Really? Do you find my ass cheeks beautiful, little boy?"

My eyes moved greedily over Mistress's lovely, soft buttocks. There were a few blemishes - pretty little pimples - on the otherwise flawless skin.

I inhaled the exquisite fragrance of Mistress's body and awaited my instructions.

"Now, Tim, I want you to give each of my cheeks a kiss. And when you do that," she said, looking over her shoulder at me with a steely glance, "I want you to apologize to me for being such a remarkable pig in your behavior towards me, and for being, on the whole, an devious worm."

With deep erotic waves moving over my body, I pressed my lips to Ms Jenna's sweet ass and I repeated those words.

"Very nice, Tim." Mistress encouraged. "Those feel like very sincere kisses! I'm certainly enjoying this. Are you?"

In my intoxication, I pressed my cheek against Ms Jenna's warm buttocks. Had she asked me something?

"That was a question, Tim! I told you, either you pay attention and control your impulses, or there will be trouble! I'll put stripes on your body that will be there for months!"

"I'm sorry, Mistress!" I cried, and continued to nervously kiss her ass. "Please don't be cross with me!"

"You are an all-time fuck-up, Tim! Did you know that?"

"I'm trying to control..."

"Look. Just shut up. I happen to be in the mood to have my asshole cleaned or I'd otherwise be tanning your pathetic butt right now. So, do yourself a favor and shut up, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

The notion of being allowed to attend to Ms Jenna's asshole overwhelmed me. I would never have expected such a gift at this stage of my training.

"You haven't exactly earned it, but it's important to give rewards for training to be truly embodied. So, remember that what little you've done right so far has persuaded me to make this exception."

"Oh, Mistress!" I said, my voice breaking. "Oh, generous Mistress! Bless you, Ma'am."

"That's enough of that." she snapped. "Now, get your nose up my ass, pig-boy!""

Of course, I immediately and joyfully obeyed, moving my nose to Mistress's crevice. With the tip of my nose running along the surface of that warm, musty canyon, I could smell her, and I needed to try very hard to not be hasty or make a commotion. Earthy vapors greeted my eager nostrils from beneath.

"Tim, I see it as a sign of your subjugation for you to be given a... what's the term...?"

Mistress said, teasingly. "Ah, yes. A brown nose!" Mistress said, and the very thought electrified me.

"Thank you, Ma'am! you are so kind to me."

"Now, based on how things feel back there, you should be able to get a nice coating of my residue onto your nose. See what you can do, little doggie! Go!"

With that, I worked my way between the warm cheeks. I kissed as I went along, just something I did spontaneously, and mistress did not object. God. I was in heaven! The man who once tried to push this lady around was now doing his all to get his nose up her ass!

Eventually, the tip of my nose came up against Mistress's sacred sphincter. I began to energetically nuzzle it. I pushed forward, intent on fulfilling Ms Jenna's wish as well as I possibly could.