Losing Control

This story contains non-consent humiliation. If that is not your thing, you're free to seek other stories.

Other things it includes: spanking, humiliation, embarrassment, femdom

-

The world works a certain way.

There are people who are at the top of the food chain and there are those who land themselves in the bottom.

Take myself for example. I'm tall, broad shouldered, well built, and a handsome man. I wear perfectly tailored suits and tight shirts that show off my beautiful body. I'm a manager at a cushy office job. When I speak, people listen. I command a room.

Why? Because some people are just inherently better than others. Some people win the genetic lottery and land at the top, and that's how things are supposed to be. The cream rises up, and everything else sinks.

That's how the world should work. Me on the top. Me in control.

And that's how it was until she showed up.

-

I saw her for the first time across the hall. She was talking to an employee of mine. I caught her mid-laugh and saw her eyes lock into mine.

There she was. Tall, commanding. Curvaceous in just the right ways. Glasses. Low cut top. A business suit and a clipboard and a tight little skirt.

I knew I wanted her to be mine. But I would come to learn I was meant to be hers.

-

I tried to be more commanding. To exert my power and prowess over her. To impress and show how powerful I was. But nothing seemed to work.

She would laugh it off, or seem unimpressed. She'd just toss her hair, or seem annoyed any time I tried to speak. In one case, she walked away in the middle of our conversation, deciding the conversation was over without asking.

My blood was boiling. What was wrong with this woman? Why wasn't she falling into line like everyone else? They loved me. They fell over themselves to impress me. What was wrong with her?

-

A few days later, she sat across from my desk. We were alone together in my office. She seemed irritated, almost annoyed we were even having this discussion

"Do you know why I don't respect you?" She finally said after a long back and forth. "It's because I don't see you as a man worthy of respect, I see you more as an unruly boy who needs to learn his place."

My head was spinning. She was wearing a particularly sinful outfit and I couldn't think straight. Long nylon stockings, high heels, the top buttons on her shirt undone. I felt like I was getting tunnel vision, like I couldn't follow any thought to completion. Only what was in front of me mattered.

"I don't know-?"

"Just shut it, ok?" She snapped, cutting me off. "I've had just about enough of your babbling. You need to be put into your place." Her face was so severe, so angry.

She snapped her fingers at me. "Come over here."

I cocked my head in confusion. "I'm not-"

"Now!"

And there I was. Suddenly standing in front of her, stars entering the corners of my vision, a dopey look on my face. I was wearing blue button down and thin black tie that day, an outfit I was particularly proud of.

Her eyes bore holes into my chest. "Did your mother ever spank you?"

Confusion plastered across my face. "What are you-"

"Answer my question," she said. "Did she ever spank you?"

I began to grow a little indignant at this. "No! I never needed it. I don't see how that-"

"Well no wonder you are the way you are!" she said, looking me up and down. "No one's ever held you responsible. Well I'm not having it, mister!" She jabbed her finger onto her lap. "Come here!"

"What? You can't be serious," I said. All the while my head felt fuzzy, and I could feel something growing in my chest. My stomach dropped and I felt something begin to stir within my pants.

She seemed to notice too. "Naughty boy!" She cried out. Then she grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.

I felt myself begin to fall and cried out in shock. She was guiding me down the whole time, forcing me to land on her leg, bending me over her outstretched knee. Before I could react, her hand slammed into my ass causing me to gasp.

Never in my life had I felt such a sensation. I'd seen it happen on tv, but never had I received such abuse my entire life. She pummeled her hand into my ass over and over again, giving me no respite, no time to recover or react in any way besides crying out in anguish.

"I'll do what your mother couldn't!" She yelled at me. "I'll hold you accountable! Punish you the way you deserve to be punished!"

Realization began to dawn on me. She was right. God she was right! Everything in my life had been handed to me. I'd never worked for what I got, and was never punished when I did harm. I thought I was untouchable, unbeatable. And here she was proving me wrong.

Finally she stopped. I was finally able to catch my breath, take in the pain and the stinging sensation radiating off my ass. I prayed it was finally done.

Clearly she had other plans. Clearly she thought she wasn't doing enough damage. Because the next thing I knew, she was grabbing my pants and pulling them to the floor.

And there I was, bent over this woman's knee, my shirt riding up and wearing only my boxer shorts. But that didn't seem to be enough for her because the next thing I knew, she was pulling down the back of my underpants and exposing my ass.

My bare skin finally in the open, she continued to assault my ass. Over and over again she smacked it. I'd let out sharp gasps or groans, but for the most part I let this happen to me in silence.

That was due in part because I didn't want her to know how much I liked this. It was a sensation and a situation I had never experienced and I found myself enjoying it more and more. Here I was, a big strong man, reduced to this: finally being punished for what I'd done. For letting my power go unchecked for so long. I was finally put in my proper place. Punished and spanked for my insolence.

My dick was rock hard at this point. I hoped she hadn't noticed the sensation rubbing against her knee. I could only imagine the punishment I'd receive if she knew. My heart raced at the prospect.

Just as quickly it began, it ended. The spanking stopped, but the pain lingered long after it was done. I lay there, unsure of what to do, waiting to see what would happen next. I was certain my ass was beat red.

Fingers ran themselves through my hair. They grasped tightly onto them, then began to pull them into the air. Wincing, I allowed her to pull me up to my feet and stood to attention in front of her.

I was a wreck. Tie askew, hair undone, eyes wild. I felt animalistic, like I was in a manic state. My breathing was coming in short. I looked down to see my erect cock at full mast and tenting the front of my boxers. As I watched, the soft gray cotton of my plaid boxers pulsed once, then twice.

I looked up to see her reaction. She seemed unimpressed. Here I was, a symbol of machismo and animalistic male horniness and I still wasn't good enough for her. I felt a strong feeling build within me, a desire to impress her and make her see my worth.

Not giving it a second thought, I hooked my thumbs around my boxers and pulled them to the ground. My cock sprang to life, hungry to finally be free. It curved up, pointing up to the sky, a respectable 6 and a half inches. I was quite happy with my cock and looked up eagerly towards her.

Still not good enough. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Cute," she said simply, then chuckled. "Your cock however is completely unimportant and useless to me."

My breath caught and my heart began to race. My cock was useless? No one had ever said that to me. Nothing about my body impressed her? I was a man! She was supposed to do as I say! And yet ... here she was, proving that nothing I did was good enough for her.

The thought excited me like nothing else.

My hands grabbed the front of my shirt. I ripped it open in one quick pull, exposing my chest to her. I was well toned, a man who clearly spent a lot of time at the gym perfecting my body. A thin layer of hair covered my torso and beautifully dovetailed into a thick treasure trail that went down to my crotch. Maintaining eye contact with her, I pulled my tie off, then threw the rest of my shirt to the ground. I waited to see her reaction.

She rolled her eyes at me. "I'm not going to tell you what you want to hear. You're unimpressive. I've seen a million men like you. Nothing about you is special or unique or interesting. Your physique and cock are pointless."

I was wrapping my hand around my cock before she finished her sentence. Spurred on by her disapproval, I began to pump my cock, up and down. I couldn't help it. I was insanely horny and unable to control myself anymore.

"You know why?" She asked. "Because your cock isn't going anywhere near my pussy."

I felt it pulse under my fingers. I picked up speed and squeezed my eyes shut before letting out a soft groan.

She held out her hand and pressed it against the side of my face. I peeked one eye open and saw her pull her hand back. I offered her no resistance as her hand flew forward and slapped me across the face.

I jerked off even harder. I opened both eyes and took everything in stride as she slapped me again. Then again.

"How long can you last?" She asked.

I grunted. My head was buzzing and I couldn't make up from down. "I've gone 45 minutes before," I managed to get out.

She sighed, annoyed. "We'll be at this all day, huh? You know, I've got other things I'd like to do."

It pulsed once again. My stamina and prowess in bed was inconvenient for her. I'd fashioned my whole existence around being the best possible version of myself and it was an inconvenience.

"I'll do whatever you want," I said. "Please."

"You will," She agreed. "You know why?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"Because I'm your mommy now."

Oh god. My mouth formed into an O as my breaths pushed their way out my mouth, faster and faster. "Yes mommy."

"Good boy," she said, almost dismissively. She watched me continue to jerk off for a few minutes before leaning back in her chair. She sighed. "Well this is boring huh?"

"I'm sorry mommy," I said. "I wish I was good enough for you."

She leaned forward and shoved me backwards. I fell onto my back. My arms went out to the sides and my cock slapped against my stomach. I felt my legs sprawl out underneath me.

Surprised, I looked up to see her holding up her phone. "Smile," she said.

My cock twitched as I heard her camera go off. She was taking a photo of me in my current state. This moment will be immortalized forever and I had no control over it anymore.

There I lay, lying on my back, my nude body out in the open and exposed for the whole world to see. I looked up to her, feeling very vulnerable at this moment - like a puppy rolling over to have his belly scratched.

I watched her walk over to my discarded pants and pull out my wallet. She unfolded it and pulled out all my personal information - credit card, debit card, drivers license, and a few loose dollar bills. She placed them into her purse, then continued to move on.

I felt my stomach drop, lying there and watching her. She was taking everything away from me - my clothes, my money, and my dignity were all laid out in front of her and she was taking it all away. Something inside me was screaming out in fear and panic, but all that was ruling my body in this moment was unyielding horniness. I began to jack off again, watching her walk around my office like she owned the place.

She did own the place. She owned me now. She was my mommy.

"Later, once I'm done with all of this," she said, "We'll go back to your place and burn all your clothes. You'll be my nude dog as punishment for who you pretended to be for years. Acting like you were anything else is offensive."

"Yes mommy," I said, breathless. This was really happening. I was really hers.

"Follow me," she said and walked towards the door.

I sat up and felt my stomach drop again as she began to open the door to my office. Panic seized me at that moment. "Mommy, I can't -!"

"You will," she said firmly. Then she snapped her fingers. "Come here now."

I pushed myself to my feet. Ducking my head, I walked towards the door, my bare feet rubbing against the carpet.

"Good," she said. "Time to present you to the world."

The next hour is a blur. I walked through the hallways, past all my employees, my coworkers and friends, all the while completely nude and erect. I watched heads peek out doorways and people give double takes as I followed my mistress through the office. I recall standing in a meeting room, looking out at all my former employees and listening to her explain the new state of things: that she was in charge now and everyone who used to work for me now worked for her. I heard her explain that I was now her personal slave and saw my former friends look at me with pity.

There was Sarah from accounting who covered her mouth as she laughed at me. We had previously worked closely on our company budget. Then there was Daniel from marketing who I could see whispering and pointing at me to his buddies. I had thought we were close, but it was clear he was happy to see my downfall. And there was Stacey who I had had a long term flirtation with who seemed content to leave me in the hands of my new mistress. All were clearly people who only aligned themselves with me because of my power. But once it was gone, they quickly abandoned ship.

Next I was walking through the lobby, past the gawking observers and into her car. Then I was standing in my apartment, watching her take what she wanted, discarding what she didn't. I watched as she cataloged my clothes, rifled through my closet, pulled out my underwear drawer. I saw her toss all my boxers aside and discover my secret pair of briefs and watched her slip it into her purse.

I own nothing now. I am nothing. Only hers.

These days I'm found either on all fours, presented at her parties as a joke. Or else I'm following behind her, a leash around my neck and being pulled along. I'm something to laugh at, to gawk at and make fun of. I'm an accessory to her.

I've never entered her body, never taken control during sex, and I've never been anything other than a submissive little dog.

I follow her every command, wear whatever she says, take whatever abuse she gives.

The world works a certain way.

And I'm meant to be hers.