The Intern
By SubmissiveScribe.
[google-translator]
“Right, thanks for reminding me, Cindy. I would’ve forgotten all about your birthday if it hadn’t been for you mentioning it about 500 times.”
Cindy was a bubbly young intern who had been excitedly reminding everyone in the office all week about her upcoming 20th birthday. Cindy gave Mark a quick raspberry. “Whatever, I just hope you bought me a nice gift. It’s the big two-oh, so I deserve something special, and I know you can give me just that.”
Right, a gift! Mark had forgotten entirely about that part. She’d brought up her birthday plenty of times, but never mentioned wanting a gift or what she wanted. Not even a hint. Mark had already chipped in on the office pool to buy her a spa treatment. But of course, she would expect a separate gift from him at her private party.
“You’ll see,” he bluffed. He’d have to quickly run by a store after work and pick something up. “Can’t wait,” Cindy shouted as her head disappeared into the doorframe. “See you later!”
She almost ran towards the building exit, clearly excited to start her birthday celebrations.
*****
Cindy and Mark were somewhat unlikely friends, with a 25-year age gap. She’d started as an intern at Mark’s accounting firm a few months back. She was younger than the rest of the staff by at least 10-15 years and struggled to connect with most of them. The women seemed pleasant to her, but didn’t really click – possibly jealous because of all the male attention she got? Mark tried not to get involved in office gossip. But it was a fact that all the younger guys in the office were constantly hitting on her and trying to get her attention. Not surprising, as she was gorgeous. Sharp blue eyes, pouty lips, dark auburn hair, perfect skin.
Her outfits were carefully selected to accentuate her tight ass and perky tits, and she always did her nails and makeup to a T. She knew how to draw in the boys, alright. But she wasn’t particularly interested in any of the ones at the office. She’d told Mark that she preferred guys her own age, and a lot more athletic. Mark knew full well he never had a shot at her. Of course, she was young enough to be his daughter. He didn’t even think of her that way.
He just treated her like a coworker, and she’d taken to that more than any of the flirting. She always seemed to come to him with any questions she had, and whenever she struggled with tasks or wasn’t sure how to approach a new challenge. On a few occasions, Mark had even helped her finish her work if she was running out of time near the end of the day. They often had lunch together. With her talking about the boys she chased at the clubs and him about his nature hikes–Mark was single and spent most of his weekends hiking. They enjoyed each other’s company as good colleagues, if not friends.
So, when Cindy’s birthday came up, Mark was the only one from the office she’d invited to her party. He didn’t love the idea of going to an event where he didn’t know anyone else. But given their relationship, he felt obliged to at least show his face.
Later that day, the perfume store was bustling. Mark went there after work, about an hour before the party. It was Friday evening; the weekend had begun, and the holidays were approaching, so many people were out shopping for gifts. He browsed the shelves for a while but had no clue what to get. He knew Cindy would have a field day in here, but he’d never really paid close attention to what styles or smells she preferred.
After wandering for a bit, he walked up to the cashier’s desk and asked, “Hi, can I just get a gift card, please?”
*****
The welcome…
It was just past 20:00 as he arrived at Cindy’s flat. He hadn’t been inside student housing for 15 years. It had never been his thing. Always so messy and crowded. But Cindy, being a student when she wasn’t an intern at his office, made sense; she lived here. Along with five other girls, Mark knew. This would be his first time meeting any of them, though. He was actually a bit nervous; he had no idea how many people would be at the party, and crowds were never his thing.
Plus, he hadn’t hung out with a crowd this young since his own student years. Mark rang the doorbell of the house number Cindy had texted him, and heard a buzzer a few seconds later. He went inside and walked up the stairs to the fourth floor. There were a few discarded energy drink containers and an empty wine bottle in the stairwell’s nooks and crannies, but overall, it was cleaner than he’d expected. Once on the right floor, he didn’t have to look hard to find Cindy’s apartment: the door was adorned with birthday garlands and balloons spelling out the number 20.
He rang the doorbell and, after a short wait, heard footsteps approach before the door swung open. A petite, beautiful blonde in her early twenties opened the door, revealing a small hallway behind it. She was dressed for a night out, it seemed. She wore a short, tight-fitting, strapless black dress that showed considerable cleavage, along with black high heels and bright red lipstick. Her long, straight blonde hair fell to the small of her back, but one strand dangled flirtatiously across her face.
She looked ravishing. “Hi, you must be Mark, come in! I’m Laura. Cindy’s in the living room. You can put your coat over there.”
Laura pointed to a pile of coats on the ground, below an empty coat rack. The hallway was messy, with shoes, coats, umbrellas, and other objects strewn everywhere. On top of the coat rack rested a frame with a poster of Taylor Swift’s Eras tour – as if someone meant to hang it on the wall here but had never gotten to it. It blocked the coat rack from serving its intended purpose.
“This brings me back,” Mark said as he took off his coat, shrugged, and dumped it unceremoniously on the pile.
*****
When in Rome…
He followed Laura through the opposite door into the living room.
The place honestly looked like a pig sty. There were dirty clothes everywhere, empty and half-empty food and drink containers, packaging materials from what looked like at least a dozen different packages and envelopes – these ladies love their online shopping! Mark saw a pile of dirty dishes in the back of the kitchen and the pots and pans on the stove. The floor carpet clearly hadn’t been vacuumed in months, and the kitchen tiles looked grimy even from a distance.
A big dining table in the centre of the room was stacked with assorted items: dirty plates and cutlery, empty bottles, two laptops, plastic bags with who-knows-what inside, and various smaller items. It reminded Mark of the student houses he’d hung out at in his younger years. Typical, he thought, I did not miss this chapter of my life. There was a rather cosy sitting area near a balcony on the other end of the room.
Or it would’ve been cosy if it wasn’t for the mess: empty food containers and takeaway bags, a few discarded items of clothing, a pile of used plates and mugs. Plus, on a coffee table, oddly placed in a corner, was a modest birthday cake, a bottle of cheap champagne, and some empty (thankfully clean) glasses. The centre area–where you’d expect the coffee table to go–was empty.
Surprisingly, the only people in the room were gathered there, and it seemed to be only Cindy and her five roommates, spread out across two couches, a lazy chair, and a chair that appeared to have been borrowed from the dining table. There was an empty seat on a long sofa, between a tall brunette and a hot, athletic Asian girl. The latter had long, dark hair and a tight-fitting red dress that barely covered her ass.
It accentuated her small breasts as much as anything could. She might be petite, but her biceps made it look as if she could wrestle a bear and win. The tall brunette sported a sparkly golden dress and matching heels. She was almost a head taller than Mark. All the ladies in the room looked amazing, dressed to impress in club outfits, with full hair and makeup. A small, Mediterranean-looking girl wore a velvety green dress, and a second blonde girl — much taller than Laura — sitting in the lazy chair wore a matching black-and-white polka-dotted tank top and short skirt.
Cindy herself wore an extremely tight-fitting long-sleeved dress with a funkadelic pattern of hearts in all the colours of the rainbow. It revealed a lot more cleavage than she ever did at the office. Was she wearing a push-up bra? She had on black boots, and her long auburn hair flowed freely across her sensual body. She looked more stunning than ever. The contrast between all these gorgeous young women and the messy room was jarring.
“Hi Mark! Great that you could make it. Come on over and sit down, we saved you a spot,” Cindy said happily as soon as she saw him, waving him towards the empty seat on the three-seater couch.
Mark replied: “Sorry, Cindy, I feel a bit underdressed. You didn’t say anything about a dress code. As it was at your house, I figured this would be OK,” pointing to his work clothes: a plain dress shirt and jeans.
He made his way over to the couch and sat down between the muscly Asian and the tall brunette.
She smiled warmly. “Don’t worry about it. We just wanted to give you a warm welcome. Plus, we’re going out later. So, these are my roommates: to your right is Jennifer.” T
He Asian girl spoke: “Hi, nice to meet you.”
Cindy moved on before Mark could respond: “You met Laura already, and this is Raquel–she’s from Mexico.” The Hispanic girl next to Cindy on the other couch smiled at him as Mark squeezed in a quick ‘Hola’ before Cindy continued. “Over there is Andrea,” Cindy pointed at the blonde in the lazy chair, “and finally to your left is Tara,” the tall brunette. “You’ll get to know them all soon enough.”
A few girls smirked at that.
“Everyone, this is Mark, my coworker.”
Mark responded: “Hey, everyone, nice to meet you all. But are there no other guests yet?”
Cindy smiled: “Oh, this is just the pre-party, for my closest friends only. Most of us will go out later and meet everyone else at the club.”
Mark raised his eyebrows: “You consider me one of your closest friends?”
Cindy laughed sweetly. “No, silly… but you are special to me. I wanted you here for this.” Changing tracks, she quickly said, “So, did you bring me a gift? I don’t see any bags.”
*****
Everything changes…
Mark pulled the gift card from his back pocket and held it out to her. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got you a gift ca….”
Cindy’s demeanour changed in a flash. “What?! A gift card?” she shot at him angrily. “Is that all I’m worth to you? It’s my 20th birthday. You know how important that is! And I know that you’re more thoughtful than that. Do I matter so little to you that I wasn’t worth buying a real gift for?”
Mark was flustered. Sure, he wasn’t proud of his unimaginative gift, and if he had remembered on time, he would’ve never… But plenty of people give gift cards for birthdays, especially to coworkers they don’t know well. Cindy’s reaction was uncalled for.
She continued, though: “And this, after I spent all that time with you. All those lunches we shared so you wouldn’t have to eat alone because you don’t have any friends at the office. After helping you out with your work so much that I sometimes ran out of time on my own assignments.”
Mark didn’t know what he was hearing. True, before Cindy, he often lunched alone in his office, but that was because he was busy. And *he* was helping *her* with her work, not the other way around. He wrecked his memories; had he been misinterpreting what was going on? He did sometimes struggle to spot social cues that were obvious to others. But Cindy had grabbed the card from his hands.
“Only 30?!” Her anger rose. “Wow, that’s so ungrateful after all I did for you. I was so nice to you and so patient with all your boring stories about this forest and that mountain. This is how you repay me?”
It had seemed a fair amount to Mark–a similar amount he gave to friends for their birthdays. Plus, he’d also chipped in on the office pool. But the other girls started to chime in, picking Cindy’s side. “That’s so disrespectful,” snorted Andrea, the blonde in the lazy chair.
“Pathetic,” huffed the Asian girl–Jennifer–disdainfully. “I can’t even…” muttered Latina Raquel. Petite Laura piled on:
“We’re just poor students. You make so much more money than us. Is that the best you can do for a queen like Cindy?”
Mark didn’t know what to say in his defence after this onslaught, even though he felt he didn’t deserve anywhere close to this level of criticism.
Tara, the tall brunette sitting next to him and seemingly the oldest of the bunch (Mark estimated her at 25), chimed in. “You know, I think we should teach Mark a lesson in gratitude. Don’t you think, girls?”
Everyone cheered. Before Mark knew what was happening, Tara and Jennifer–the two girls he shared the couch with–grabbed Mark’s arms and pinned them behind his back. They pushed him head-first off the couch, landing hard on the carpet, with his head near Cindy’s feet.
“Ouch, that hurt!” Mark protested and tried to rise, but Jennifer pinned him down.
He struggled against her, but made no headway — she was too strong. Suddenly, he felt metal against his wrists and heard a click. Were those handcuffs?! Now someone behind him was tying his feet together with a rope. He tried to resist, but two pairs of hands locked his legs in place while a third tied him up. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see who was doing what, but either way, he was helpless to stop it. Then a large hand grabbed him by the neck and manoeuvred him closer to Cindy’s boots. Tara’s voice boomed above him:
“Apologise to her!” Mark saw no other option: “I’m sorry, Cindy. That was an inferior gift for you. It wasn’t enough, and it lacked imagination. I’m so sorry, I will make it up to you, I promise. Please let me go!”
He felt incredibly humiliated, lying at her feet like this with his head on the floor, like a dog whose nose is being poked into his own shit.
Tara was the one to respond: “Show her you mean it. Kiss her boots.”
With her hand still on his neck, she pushed his mouth right into the toes of Cindy’s boot. Mark hesitated for a moment, feeling incredibly degraded. This was preposterous! But at this point, he was completely tied down and unable to move, so, hoping that it would be the quickest way to resolve this situation, he capitulated and started kissing the boot right in front of him—first, a quick peck; then another; then a third, slightly higher up the boot. Cindy chuckled from the couch above.
But Tara wasn’t satisfied: “Keep kissing, and lick it too.”
Mark found himself reluctantly making love to the boot, tenderly kissing and licking all over it. Thankfully, it was clean and had very little taste. After a while, Tara moved his head to Cindy’s other boot and went right to work on it as well. Girls were cheering behind him as he did.
“Nice job!… That’s more like it… You’re a natural at that!”
It was the most humiliating thing he’d ever done.
Now Cindy spoke to him: “Good. That’s what I like to see. A little gratitude for all the attention and help I gave you.”
Mark internally recoiled at this reversal of facts (or was it?), but decided it would be best right now to just lean into it: “Yes, Cindy, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve given me. Thank you so much.”
As he looked up at her, Cindy looked down and gave him an evil smirk.
“Good. So, what are you gonna do to make up for it?”
Mark wasted no time answering this: “I’ll buy you a bigger, better gift! Please let me go to the store tomorrow, and I’ll get you something really nice, something that truly reflects my gratitude to you!”
He just wanted this over with. Cindy slowly shook her head high above him. “I appreciate that, and it’s… a step in the right direction. But a new gift for me alone won’t get you out of this. It’s too late for that. You’ve come into our house and behaved so ungratefully in front of me and all of my roommates. You owe all of us now.”
The other girls around Mark murmured in approval. “Alright, alright, I’ll buy something nice for all of you,” Mark growled reluctantly.
At this point, he would say almost anything to get out of this, and he could easily afford it, but how much was this gonna cost him exactly? What did these girls deem acceptable gifts? Of course, once they let him go, he was gonna run for it–and then who said he had to buy anyone anything? No one could hold it against him if he broke a promise made under such duress. Raquel, still sitting next to Cindy, joined in now: ”
Not bad, little piggy, and we’ll hold you to that. But at this point, gifts alone don’t cut it. We need a real sacrifice now, some meaningful acts of service to atone for your behaviour.”
*****
The trap is sprung…
Acts of service? What does that mean? Mark was confused. Tara’s hand on his neck moved him away from Cindy’s boots and shoved him roughly into the unvaccumed carpet. He hadn’t expected this and ate a mouthful of dust. Tara almost bellowed: “Is there anything you can think of that you could do for all of us to make this right? Any *service* you can offer us that would show us you’re truly sorry?”
She moved his head around a bit on the dusty carpet, bringing it to rest near an empty food container.
“You… want me to clean?” Mark said hesitantly.
“Well, that would be a start!”
It was the taller of the two blondes, Andrea, speaking now. “This place could certainly use it. We’re all queens and princesses, so *we’re* certainly not gonna do it. But Cindy tells us you’re very eager to please and don’t mind doing menial work. You’d be perfect for it!”
Well, this is unfair, Mark thought. These girls turn their house into a filthy den, and now they want him to clean up their mess, all because he hadn’t bought one of them a nice enough birthday present? But then he remembered his predicament. Handcuffed and tied up on the floor, surrounded by women who could–and had–easily overpower him. If he said he’d clean for them, they’d have to untie him to let him do so, and he then could escape at the first opportunity.
“Well, if you think that’s fair compensation and it will get me out of this, I’ll do it,” Mark reluctantly promised.
“Hmmph, doesn’t sound very genuine,” said Laura, the petite blonde. “Sounds more like he’s just trying to get out of here, not that he truly wants to repent.”
Several girls hummed in agreement. Tara took over again: “Then let’s keep him at it until we all agree he’s shown true remorse, no matter how long it takes. And we’ll make sure he doesn’t just walk out of here once we untie him. Raquel, get the scissors.”
Uh oh, they saw right through Mark. But how would they stop him from running?
“Lie still!” Tara ordered, “I personally don’t give a shit if you get hurt, in fact, I’m counting on it. So, it’s on you if you end up getting stabbed.”
Raquel approached him with scissors in her hand and started to tear into his shirt with them, ripping it apart.
“Hey, that’s my shirt!” said Mark, but he didn’t move to avoid any stabs or cuts.
Raquel sneered. “No shit, bitch, but you won’t need it here.”
After his shirt had been torn and ripped off his body, Raquel continued with his pants. Meanwhile, someone else took off his shoes and socks. Soon, he was down to just his boxers – while still tied up by hands and feet. Raquel kicked him over roughly. Mark grunted and found himself on his side. Jennifer grabbed him by his feet and pulled his legs backwards, then she and Raquel pushed him onto his back. There he was, lying flat on his back with his arms handcuffed behind his back and his feet tied together. He was on display.
“The honour’s all yours, Cindy,” Raquel said, handing her the scissors. “Unwrap your birthday present.”
As Cindy approached Mark with the scissors, he tried to wriggle away from her, but Raquel and Jennifer pinned him down. Cindy grabbed his boxers and tore into them deftly, ripping them away and leaving him fully naked and exposed to the whole group.
“Awww, what a cutie, I don’t think I’ve ever received such a small gift,” Cindy cheerily exclaimed. All the girls roared with laughter. Mark just wanted to die. He was in pain, uncomfortably detained, and deeply humiliated.
Of course, his typically average cock was about as small as it would ever get. He couldn’t think of anything to say to make this situation better, so he just lay there. A couple of girls now had their phones out and were snapping pictures, while laughing and making fun of his shrivelled dick and increasingly red face.
“How cute…”
“So puny…”
“You’ll never be able to satisfy a woman with that!”
Tara interrupted after a while. “That thing’s pathetic, we’d better wrap it back up again. This time in a safer container, so it can’t get loose so easily.”
Mark would’ve been relieved that this part of his evening was over, but he didn’t quite trust the smirk on Tara’s face. She knelt, roughly grabbed Mark by the balls, and squeezed them together. Mark yelped in pain.
“Shut up, bitch!” yelled Andrea, as Mark felt a metal ring being shoved around his balls.
What the hell is this?
“Nah, too big, give me a smaller one,” Tara directed to Laura. Within seconds, the ring had been replaced by a smaller one. “That seems about right,” Tara said as she took the shaft of his dick and roughly squeezed it through the ring as well.
That didn’t really hurt at all, but the unexpected sensation made Mark grunt anyway.
“I said, shut up!” Andrea kicked him in the stomach, and Mark gasped.
Tara ignored this and slowly pushed an odd metal contraption over the shaft of his dick, but quickly retracted it again.
“Much too big, give me the smallest one we have.”
Another contraption, much smaller this time, was lowered over Mark’s shaft, and Tara manoeuvred it towards the ring. It took a little pushing and shoving, but Tara moved it over the locking mechanism and snapped it shut. She quickly inserted a barrel lock into the mechanism and took out the key. Mark’s eyes widened: his cock was now completely encased in metal bars, fitting tightly into a little cage with no room to grow (not that he felt particularly like increasing at this time). And it was a heavy-duty cage; he felt the weight of it in his entire groin. Without the key that Tara held in her hand, he wasn’t getting out of this!
“There, that’s better,” Tara sighed and stepped away as the other girls were taking more pictures. “This is our insurance policy to make sure you don’t make a run for it. If you do, I’ll flush this right down the toilet, and good luck getting your dick out then. Plus, you’re naked, and far from home. You have no clothes anymore”, pointing to the loose shreds on the floor that had once been Mark’s outfit, “it’s a freezing night, and we took your car keys as well. I’m sure it’s a very long walk from here to home, wearing nothing but your cage.”
The girls all laughed, and Mark gulped. He wanted nothing more than to run far away from here, but she made some good points. He was trapped.
“We already have lots of photos and videos of your little predicament, and the night’s still young. Cindy’s on all your socials: Insta, LinkedIn, X–even the Facebook page you maintain for your parents. If you don’t follow our orders until we’re all satisfied that you’ve properly atoned for your sins, we’ll share all that footage with everyone you know.”
Fuck! Mark cursed to himself. Blackmail too?
“Do you understand all of this, maggot?”
Ark sighed: “Yes…”
He was truly fucked.
“That’s ‘Yes Mistress Tara’ to you,” Tara snapped.
“Yes, Mistress Tara, I understand.”
A few girls chuckled; they knew he was all theirs now.
Tara continued: “Will you try to run for it?”
How could he? “No, Mistress Tara, I’m not going anywhere,” he uttered dejectedly—more laughter.
“That’s right, you aren’t. Alright, then I think it’s time to continue with our birthday celebrations!”
*****
His service begins…
Tara was clearly in the lead now. “Girls, let’s sit back down so we can have cake. Jennifer and Andrea, would you mind replacing our new house slave’s restraints, so that he can serve us?”
So that’s what he was now, Mark thought, a house slave? Jennifer and Andrea approached him and shoved him roughly on his side. Andrea then put on loose leather cuffs at each wrist, just above the handcuffs, and tied them in place. When they were both on, she removed the handcuffs and made him move his arms from his back to his chest. There, she connected the new cuffs to both ends of a short metal chain. Mark wasn’t happy about still being tied up, but at least these cuffs were a vast improvement. The soft leather felt kinda nice, actually.
In the meantime, Jennifer did the same to his ankles: she attached leather cuffs linked by a short chain, then untied the rope binding his feet together. Mark was still restrained but had much more freedom of movement now. He could sit up. When he did, everyone had retreated to their place on the couches, with Laura, who had been sitting on a dining table chair, taking his spot. Most girls had their phones out, recording it from various angles, gathering more blackmail material by the minute.
“Now, slave, serve us,” Tara barked, “Move Laura’s chair back to the dining table, then pour us all champagne and cut the cake.”
Mark realised he had no other options. Even if he did bolt to the door to escape naked into the cold winter night, with his restraints on, he’d be slow and clumsy, and likely to trip. The girls would likely catch him before he’d be able to leave the floor, let alone the building (he was four stories up with no elevator). He didn’t want to think about what they would do to him at that point.
So, he did as he was told. He moved the now superfluous chair aside and began serving everyone cake and champagne. In no time, the girls were all chatting about random topics like boys, weekend plans, and even their period pains, as if Mark wasn’t even there. That is, unless they spotted an opportunity to take an embarrassing photo of him awkwardly shuffling around or struggling with the cake knife or glasses, as he didn’t have quite enough freedom of movement to do anything naturally.
When everyone was served, they held their glasses and plates in their hands or awkwardly balanced them on their laps. Tara addressed Mark once more:
“This doesn’t work; we need a table.”
Mark shuffled towards the coffee table, moving it to a more natural spot between the couches.
“No, no. Not that one. Get on all fours right here,” she pointed to the spot where Mark had wanted to put the table. “Get down there and hold really, really still. If anything falls, you’ll regret it for days.”
Mark was puzzled but got on his arms and feet as instructed. “Head down,” he lowered his head.
Then he felt Tara put her plate of cake on his back. The other ladies followed suit. Their hands freed, they now toasted to Cindy’s birthday.
“Happy 20th, queen! I hope you like your gift,” Tara said as she brushed Mark’s head.
“Oh, I think we all will get a lot of mileage out of this one,” Cindy replied.
They all roared with laughter. Mark could only sit there, trying his best not to move and spill any of the cake on his back. The girls continued to chat for what felt like hours, occasionally setting down their glasses on the human ‘coffee table’ or picking up their plates to eat some cake. Now and again, Mark heard the snapping of a camera coming from different angles around him. He must make quite the sight!
Of course, this was exhausting. You’d think sitting still is easy, but holding the same pose for who knows how long took a lot out of Mark. After a while, he couldn’t help himself and shifted involuntarily. Promptly, Andrea’s plate, which had been teetering precariously on the edge of his ass anyway, fell off, spilling cake onto the carpet.
Andrea exploded: “Slave! What did you do! Is that how you express remorse for your misbehaviour? Cause even more trouble?”
Not wanting to risk any more spills, Mark didn’t move and quietly whispered: “I’m sorry, Miss, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to!”
Andrea stood up out of her lazy chair. “I’ll make sure you don’t. First, clean up your mess.”
Mark wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Surely, Andrea could see that he couldn’t move with several other plates and glasses on his back? But she had walked over to the remnants of her cake and shoved the plate aside with her pink, open-toed heels. She rubbed her feet into the cake remnants, getting them all over her toes.
Then she walked over to Mark’s head and held up her cake-smeared toes to his mouth: “Clean!”
Mark didn’t want to risk more of her ire, so he started licking off the cake right away. It had gotten mixed up with the carpet’s dirt and grime and tasted horrible. He could barely hold himself back from–that surely would’ve caused more plates to fall. Thankfully, Andrea pushed her toes right into his face, so Mark didn’t have to move his body at all. Everyone laughed at this new humiliation, and more camera snaps filled the room.
“Ugh, disgusting,” Andrea said when her foot was clean. Then she walked back to the cake on the floor and went in for round two.
After two more rounds, there wasn’t much left on the floor. Andrea spoke again: “Well, I think that sufficiently ruined everyone’s appetite. But that’s OK, because now you’ve cleaned up, it’s time for your punishment. Stay still. You get 20, and for every item you drop, an extra 20.”
Twenty what? Mark wondered. Andrea walked away but swiftly returned with something in her hand. All the ladies now put their glasses and plates down on Mark’s back. It barely all fit. As Mark didn’t want to risk moving, he couldn’t see what Andrea was carrying, but she positioned herself behind him. He suddenly realised how exposed his ass and balls had been all this time. Thwath! A searing pain suddenly hit Mark’s left ass cheek, and he yelped. His back jumped involuntarily, and several glasses fell from it. A roaring laughter broke out, and several ladies cheered.
“That’s an extra 60, keep it up!”
Andrea yelled over the crowd, “Count for me out loud. If you lose count, we start over.”
Mark immediately understood the assignment and yelled, “One.”
“Good boy!” Andrea hit him again with what must be a riding crop or small whip, this time on his right cheek.
“Two.”
At least Mark wasn’t as surprised this time, but he still couldn’t help moving around his back, so another plate fell off. This one was fortunately empty.
“Another 20, you’re up to 100 now,” Andrea shouted over the cheering girls.
More cameras were clicking, of course. The spanking continued, and while Mark got better at taking the hits without jumping too much, he still dropped another four items, bringing the total number of strikes to 180, so 90 on each cheek. After a while, Andrea handed over her crop to Cindy, and all the girls took turns spanking him. Thankfully, he never lost count — his focus was on keeping track. His ass felt on fire by the time he finally yelled: “One hundred and eighty!”
The girls gave a final cheer and applauded, with one girl even congratulating him on taking the punishment so well. Mark could only quietly mutter:
“Thank you, Miss,” without even seeing who it was.
He did recognise Tara’s commanding voice now taking over: “Alright, that was enough fun for now. Slave, you may lie down now; any further spills won’t bring further punishment. Just in more mess for you to clean up.”
Mark couldn’t care less about that now, and immediately dropped flat onto the floor, throwing glasses and plates everywhere. He was destroyed and didn’t think he’d be able to move for about a week. All thought of escape had long fled his mind at this point.
Tara continued: “Girls, it’s about time we hit the club, grab your stuff. Slave, you can take some time to recover from your first punishment. This is a courtesy, don’t count on it becoming a habit. It’s best to try and avoid punishment next time.”
No shit, Sherlock, Mark thought. But he knew better than to get cocky now, so he merely gave a vague grunt of understanding.
“When you feel better, you will clean up the mess you created here. When we come back, there will no longer be any champagne or cake remnants on the carpet. Understood?”
Mark grunted again.
“Good. After that, you’re welcome to go to bed. You’ll have a long day tomorrow, when I expect you to clean our communal areas. So get some sleep. Your bed is over there,” she pointed at a large dog kennel sitting right next to the door through which Mark had entered the room.
He hadn’t noticed it before. It looked cramped, but he might just about fit. There was thankfully a soft bottom and a blanket, so it wouldn’t be the worst place to sleep.
“Wait, I can’t go home?”
All the girls burst out laughing. Cindy answered: “No, silly. Until you’ve shown us enough remorse, this *is* your home.”
Andrea piped in: “And at the rate you’re going, it will be a looong time before that happens.”
She cracked an evil laugh that made Mark recoil. With that, the girls all shuffled out of the room into the hallway where their coats were.
Cindy was the last to leave: “Sleep well tonight, slave, you’ll need it,” she said as she closed the door behind her.
Mark heard the *clack* of a heavy-duty lock falling into place, locking him in the living room. *Fuck, what have I gotten myself into?*
The End.
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