Stripped of my Manhood
By Max Swan.
Tina McClosky was the HR manager at my company until recently. I was an IT Engineer and worked with a team to maintain and debug systems, set up accounts and passwords, and monitor employees’ use of the company’s intranet services. She was what I always thought of as a powerful alpha woman. Tina was in her forties, had long black hair, quite large tits, and many of the men around the building had secret crushes on her. Tina was a MILF. We often discussed her in our office in a rather lurid way.
So, someone had photoshopped Tina’s head on the naked body of a porn star with a similar build—Ava Adams—and emailed it to my work email. In fact, Ms. Adams was in very close proximity to Tina. They could have been sisters.
Naturally, someone saw that picture in my email (they were snooping around our office, but that’s another story) and reported me to HR. I didn’t even make this image, but I was the one who got in trouble for it. So there I found myself sitting across from Tina in her office getting strips torn off me for being a male chauvinist pig and doing such a despicable act. On that fateful day, she had been going off on the endless failings of men from my generation. I was twenty-four.
Eventually, she declared, “Honestly, guys like you need a proper spanking.”
I looked at her and found the same smile on her face. It was unnerving, like she knew an embarrassing secret about you, maybe one that you didn’t know yourself.
“A spanking?” I asked wide-eyed.
She had caught my attention. Sensing my interest, her eyes perked up mischievously. She leaned in and continued, “Yeah, an old-fashioned, pants-down, bare-bottom spanking. Did your Mommy ever give you those growing up?”
She was smirking at me. Had she really just asked me that? I looked around the room. But no one else heard her outrageous inquiry.
“Pardon me?” I asked.
She got up from her desk and came around to. Then she leaned in close, her face just inches from mine, so that I felt her warm coffee breathe on my face.
“I asked you if your Mommy ever yanked down your pants and undies, hauled you over her lap, and spanked your little naked butt until you cried your eyes out?”
I felt my face go beet-red from embarrassment, which seemed to delight Tina.
“No, not really,” I confessed, flustered.
Tina took my forearm in her hand. “Yeah, judging by that nasty picture, I can tell.” She chuckled, then leaned her pitted face in close to my ear and continued, “Well, if I had my way, I’d strip that suit right off you, get you bare ass naked, and then spank some sense into that little heiney of yours for such a naughty boy.”
She was holding my arm close to her now. It made me feel like I was stuck in place, paralyzed.
I was blinking rapidly, stunned by this turn of events. “Oh yeah, you think that would help?” For some reason, I played along with her shocking suggestion.
“Oh, I know it would, boy. It would teach you to respect women. Treat them the way they should be, not jerk your little gherkin to nasty pictures of them.”
She seemed to savor these words, and I realized I had gotten hard in my suit pants.
“Respect?” I asked, my voice a breathless whisper.
She leaned in closer. “Oh yeah, I’d teach you a real lesson, kid. I’d take you down quite a few pegs until you were good and humbled. You’d be crying like a baby. Sniveling like a snot-nosed brat. And you’d be bare bottom naked, of course!”
She laughed at the thought of it, laughed at me. I couldn’t believe that she was peaking that way, despite our age difference; I was her peer, her colleague. The disrespect she showed me made me feel deeply confused and unsettled, craning my neck and leering at me mischievously as she continued.
“I bet, by the end of it, you’d even be calling me Mommy.”
She again relished each word, delivering it slowly, looking in my eyes as he spoke so brazenly. She was still holding on to my arm, and she had rested her other hand on my stomach. Just lightly placed her hand over my navel. My heart was pounding.
“No way,” I said and tried to push back, but I could barely sputter out my retort. I shook free of her grasp.
“Oh yeah? I see you got a little tent going on in your trousers there.”
One of her long fingernails was pointed at my crotch, just an inch or two where my boner was betraying me, bulging out my pants. She snickered, and I just lowered my head as she continued.
“Very little, by the looks of it…”
I felt a strange thrill from just sitting there, letting her belittle the size of my manhood. Her hand seized my shoulder and squeezed. Her face was so close to mine, her voice low and gravelly, and I felt her hot breathe as Tina continued to torment me.
“You know, some of the guys have told me about that little thing you got between your legs. They saw it at the urinals and said it looked no more than an inch. It really looked just like a little boy’s penis, not a man’s. You’re hung like a little boy, aren’t you, Gavin?”
I was flush with shame at what she was saying. Tina was attacking one of my biggest insecurities, poking at it like she had found a chink in my armor. Cruelly jamming her fingers in the wound. My head was swimming. She rubbed my upper back.
I looked at her, smiling at me. Deep down, I had always gotten turned on from being belittled. I talked to you about it. Somehow, Tina had intuited that. She kept caressing my shoulders with one hand as she spoke.
“You got just a tiny little babydick between your legs, don’t you, boy? You need these naughty pictures to jerk off to, cos god knows no woman wants to have sex with you.”
She made the universal ‘small penis’ sign with her fingers, inches from my face. She let out a long, throaty, mean-spirited laugh. I looked around the room, but we were alone. Did management know that Tina acted this way with employees? Taunting men for having a little dick? Did my red face betray my shame?
“Babydick?” I finally asked, my throat dry as a bone.
She smiled at my inquiry. She knew that for whatever reason, I was enjoying the verbal abuse, playing along. She looked around the room before leaning in and continuing in an almost sing-song voice.
“Why, yes, Gavin! Your little penis! Your little babydick! Your teeny tiny pecker. You don’t have a man’s cock in your trousers, you just have an itty bitty boy penis, don’t you, Gavin?”
I stuttered helplessly as she cackled. It almost felt like she had me naked right there, in her office. Like she had pulled my pants down right here. My dick pulsated at the crazy image. The chorus of howling laughter at my pants and underpants at my ankles, bare ass and little dick on display to this powerful alpha woman. I felt dizzyingly exposed.
“Don’t you, boy?” she growled into my ear.
Was she forcing me to admit it to her? Confess that I had a small penis?
“I guess so,” I said in a dreamy, distant voice.
This humiliation spellbound me. Tina chuckled to herself, mean-spirited laughter at my disgracing myself before her like that. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. Laughed at my going along with the humiliation like an idiot. I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.
“Maybe after I give you a proper spanking, I’ll show you how to respect a superior woman the right way.” Her voice was harsh with a menacing lust, and she pushed her ample cleavage into me. She smirked when he saw my eyes widen at her big tits. She leaned back, straightened up, and adopted a serious tone of voice, as if we were negotiating a settlement.
“But who knows? If you’re man enough to drop your drawers and put yourself over my lap, then I might let you off with a warning for that nasty photo of me. Whaddaya say?”
She was glowering at me, that same big grin still on her face. Her proposal was so strange that it both humiliated and thrilled me just by imagining it. I felt like I had no choice.
“OK,” I croaked.
She beamed at me and said to meet her out front after work.
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