The Investment Banking Intern: Part 4

Lorna sauntered across the red-lit room, hips rolling with triumphant swagger, heels stabbing the tile. She placed the cigar into a crystal ashtray on a side table, smoke curling lazy from the embers.

Eyes locked on Brendan's kneeling form—cage dripping steady, ass cheeks pale and untouched—she reached up to a wall rack. Leather cuffs dangled from chains; she snatched a pair, thick and padded, snapping them open with a metallic clink.

She circled behind him, breath hot on his neck. 'Arms back, bitch.' Brendan thrust wrists together, trembling. Click—cuffs locked tight, ratcheting snug around his skinny forearms, pinning hands helpless at his spine. He tugged instinctively, blush flooding his face, cock pulsing spikes inside the flat steel prison.

Lorna fished her phone from her skirt pocket, thumb mashing a button. ZZZT—electric jolt ripped through his balls, shocker attachment buzzing vicious. Brendan yelped sharp, body jerking forward, knees scraping tile. 'Ahh—f-fuck—!' Face burned crimson, stutter exploding as pre-cum squirted from the cage slit.

She smirked, thumbed the button again. ZZZT—stronger surge, balls contracting hard. He yelped louder, thighs quaking, eyes watering. 'Good boy. Feel that ownership?'

Heels clicked rhythmic as she strode to the wall, snagging a black leather riding crop—flexible shaft tipped with a flat flap. She tested it with a whoosh through air, then pivoted fast. CRACK—crop slammed his right ass cheek, welting red instant, skin blooming fire. Brendan bucked, yelping, caged cock leaking ropes.

'My little bitch,' she snarled, crop whistling down again. CRACK—left cheek now, welt rising parallel. 'My simp. My plaything.'

'Y-yes Mistress! Th-thank you Mistress!' he stuttered, voice cracking, blush scorching neck to ears, ass throbbing hot.

Lorna laughed low, throaty, circling him like prey. 'Pathetic. Look at you leak for pain.' CRACK—crop bit deep on his upper thigh, fresh welt striping pale skin. 'Say it louder, simp.' He gasped it out, blushing deeper, devoted eyes pleading. She degraded him relentless—'Tiny-dicked loser, born to serve real women'—each strike painting his ass a roadmap of welts, skin swelling under assault.

She paused, crop dangling, and plucked nipple clamps from a hook—silver jaws chained to heavy lead weights. Slow, she pinched his left nipple hard, twisting till it stiffened, then snapped the clamp on. Brendan moaned, pleasure-pain arching his back. Right nipple next—clamp bit, weights swinging to tug constant. He moaned louder, hips bucking, cage flooding pre-cum puddles.

Lorna hawked thick saliva into his face, glob sliding down his cheek. 'Shut up and take it like my bitch.' He clamped lips, whimpering silent, leaks pouring from denied cock.

Kneeling lower, she gripped the cage's base ring, yanking his full balls forward. Steel ball weights clinked—three heavy orbs, chained. She clipped them on, stretching sack low, pulling taut. Brendan whimpered high, thighs spreading instinctive.

Her heel nudged his balls light—tap, tap, tap—kicks gentle but stinging. 'Such small balls. Pathetic nuts for a pathetic slave.' He whimpered louder, cage throbbing spikes into shaft, pre-cum webbing thighs.

Lorna strutted to the ashtray, scooped the cigar—still smoldering—and drew deep, cherry glowing bright. She prowled back, towering, and blew thick smoke cloud straight into his face. Brendan coughed, eyes watering, stuttering 'Y-yes Mistress!' utterly devoted, inhaling her scent like worship.

Another drag, lungs full, exhale blasting his nose. 'You were hired to fulfill my desire—dominating weak men like you.' Smoke wreathed his blush, cage leaking fresh spurts. 'Y-yes Mistress!' he gasped, eyes locked on her massive tits heaving.

CRACK—crop snapped his ass again, a new welt appearing across the old ones. Brendan yelped, body rocking forward, weights swinging painful on nipples and balls, devotion burning hotter than the welts.

Lorna dragged deep on the cigar, cherry flaring orange, then exhaled slow into Brendan's flushed face. 'My colleagues? They snort lines off mirrors, fuck sluts in bathrooms. Me? I dominate pathetic men like you.' Smoke stung his eyes, but he stared up devoted, cheeks blazing hotter.

'Y-yes Mistress!' he stuttered, voice cracking.

CRACK—crop whipped his ass cheek, carving a fresh welt that burned deep, skin splitting pink. 'Pathetic bitch,' she sneered, circling. 'Weak simp. My owned plaything.' Another strike—CRACK—welt overlapping, ass cheeks striped raw. Brendan yelped, body jolting, cage spurting pre-cum onto the floor.

She tossed the crop aside, clack echoing, and grabbed a thick leather collar from the wall—studded black, O-ring front. 'Lift your chin, bitch.' He obeyed, neck stretching. Buckle clicked tight around his throat, leather biting skin, locking ownership permanent. Tug on the leash ring yanked his head forward. 'Stand.'

Brendan wobbled up, knees shaky, weights swinging painful on nipples and balls. She clipped a chain leash to the collar, yanked him stumbling toward a padded leather bench—low, angled, restraints dangling. Heels clicked commanding as she uncuffed his wrists, metal snapping free, then shoved him face-down over the bench. Arms stretched forward—ratchet straps cinched wrists to corner pads, pulling taut. Ankles yanked wide—straps buckled ankles secure, spreading legs exposed, ass cheeks parting.

She knelt, fingers gripping the ball weights—clink-clink—adding two more heavy orbs, sack stretching lower, balls aching pulled. Nipples next: extra weights clamped on chains, tugging vicious. Brendan whimpered loud, back arching, 'N-nngh—M-Mistress!' Cage throbbed spikes into his shaft, leaks puddling beneath.

CRACK—crop retrieved, snapped hard across both ass cheeks, red lines searing wide. He bucked against straps, yelping sharp, welts throbbing fire.

He heard her rustle behind him—her fabric whispering off her skin. Then he heard a zip—slow, deliberate. Brendan strained ears, heart pounding, ass clenching anticipatory.

Heels clicked around front. Lorna towered in full-body black latex—glossy sheen hugging her massive tits, her nipples poking hard; cinched waist flaring to her thick hips and ass.

Her cigar smoldered in her red-nailed fingers; she puffed deep, and then blew a thick plume straight into his face. 'Breathe your Mistress, bitch.'

He inhaled choking, coughing 'Y-yes Mistress!', eyes watering, devotion surging despite the burn.

A confident grin split her face as she reached to a drawer andhauled out a harness—wide leather straps, front plate buckling secure. A massive ten-inch black strap-on jutted rigid, veined thick, bulbous head gleaming. She stroked it slow, latex creaking. 'This is how I celebrate closing that twenty-million-dollar deal. Pounding pathetic bitches like you.'

Her latex-gloved palm cracked his welted ass, a handprint blooming over the stripes.

‘You are my bitch!' Brendan whimpered, his hips twitching helpless.

The lube bottle squirted—cold gel dripping. Her two latex-covered fingers pressed into his asshole knuckle-deep. He whimpered high, ring clenching tight around her digits as she twisted, scissoring wide. 'Take it like the slut you are.'

She fingered his ass as he moaned along in pain and pleasure. She slid her fingers out and began to lube her strapon before aligning the tip with his ass.

She drove the strap-on to the full hilt, ten inches sheathed balls-deep. Lorna paused and ground her hips in circles, the strap-on churning his insides. "That's it, slut. Feel me own this ass." She yanked back slowly, the veined length dragging out glistening, then slammed forward, her hips slapping his striped cheeks.

Brendan bucked and groaned raggedly. "Oh god—Mistress—t-too big!" Pre-cum gushed from the cage in thick ropes, puddling wide on the floor beneath. The spikes dug mercilessly into his throbbing shaft, every pulse a mix of agony and bliss.

She fucked him steadily, pulling out to the tip before ramming back in full-force. Slap-slap—her hands alternated on his ass, cheeks bouncing red. "Closed that twenty-million deal today. Commission's mine—fat bonus check. Got the bitch intern I scouted. Winner every time. Everything I want, I take." Her thrusts accelerated, the bench creaking under their weight, her latex-clad tits heaving with each drive.

He surrendered totally. His wrists yanked at the straps futilely, ankles locked spread wide, his hole yielding to her rhythm. Leaks poured nonstop, the cage slick and shiny, balls swinging heavy with weights, prostate milked relentlessly. "Y-yes—Mistress—t-take me!" he whimpered, moans fracturing into sobs of submission as he struggled to breathe around the massive girth reaming him raw.

He groaned shattered, ass clenching the buried strap-on, body bucking helplessly in the straps. "Y-yes—M-Mistress!" His submission was total, leaking nonstop, prostate hammered, spikes biting his swollen shaft.

She dominated ruthlessly, hips snapping forward, the ten-inch girth reaming his hole raw. Her pussy throbbed soaked under the harness, clit grinding the base with every thrust, juices trickling down her thighs. Her first orgasm hit, walls clamping as she screamed raw. "Fuuuck—yes!" She buried it deep as his guts allowed, grinding brutally, waves crashing through her core.

Lorna laughed triumphantly, her cigar forgotten on the ashtray's edge as sweat beaded across her latex sheen. She pounded harder, hips pistoning brutally while the strap-on ravaged his ass like a machine, claiming every inch of his body and will. "Mine. All mine."

Her hand cracked down—SLAP—on Brendan's welted cheek, his flesh jiggling from the impact. "My bitch! Pathetic plaything!" She reached around, fingers wrapping the spiked cage, squeezing the base hard. Her thumb pressed into the tip slit, milking thick ropes of pre-cum that drooled endlessly from his straining cock, spreading wider across the floor.

Brendan howled, his body jerking in the restraints, ass clenching desperately around the invading girth. The spikes tore into his swollen shaft with every throb, pain spiking through the haze of need. His balls swung heavy with the weights, aching as his prostate got hammered without mercy. Pre-cum leaked in steady streams, his caged dick pulsing futilely.

Lorna didn't slow. She yanked the strap-on out to the tip, then slammed it balls-deep again, her pussy soaking the harness as her clit rubbed the base raw. Juices slicked her thighs, dripping onto his striped ass. "Take it, intern slut. This is what you get for staring at my tits in the office." Her hips snapped forward relentlessly, the bench groaning under the force.

Her second orgasm built fast, clit grinding harder against the strap's nub. She gripped his hips, nails digging into skin, and fucked him deeper, faster. "Fuck—cumming again!" Walls clenched around nothing as ecstasy ripped through her, pussy squirting hot against the harness. She ground down, burying the ten inches fully, riding the waves while his ass milked the dildo.

Brendan sobbed, face pressed to the bench, wrists raw from pulling at the straps. "Mistress—please—it's too much!" His hole stretched wide, burning from the pounding, but his body betrayed him, pushing back for more. Cum oozed from the cage in fat drops, puddling beneath his knees.

She pulled out abruptly, grabbed the lube bottle from the side table, and squirted a cold stream of gel straight into his gaping ass. The chill made him yelp, hole twitching open. "Shut up and open wider, bitch." Lorna slapped his cheeks apart, watching the lube drip inside, then rammed back in, the slick slide letting her go even deeper.

Freshly lubed, she rutted like an animal, strap-on churning his guts. Her latex catsuit clung tight, tits bouncing with each thrust. "You closed deals for me all month—now I close you." Sweat poured down her back, mixing with pussy juices. Her third climax hit mid-thrust, clit exploding in sparks. "Yes—fuck yes! Milk my cock, slave!" She screamed, body shuddering, pussy gushing again as she hammered through it.

Brendan's world narrowed to her cock reaming him, spikes punishing his denied erection, balls tugging painfully. He babbled nonsense, "Yours—Mistress—own me—break me!" His ass spasmed, prostate flooding him with ruined pleasure, pre-cum spurting in arcs despite the cage.

Lorna leaned over him, breath hot on his neck, one hand yanking his hair back. "That's right, bitch intern. You're my office toy now. Suck up my cum every lunch break." She straightened, spanking his ass redder—SLAP SLAP SLAP—before gripping the cage again, twisting it cruelly. More pre-cum poured out, her thumb smearing it over the spikes.

The pace turned frantic. She fucked him through her fourth orgasm, hips blurring, strap-on a piston in his wrecked hole. "Cumming—again—take it all!" Her pussy convulsed, clit hypersensitive now, juices flooding down. She collapsed forward briefly, biting his shoulder hard enough to mark, then rose to pound anew.

Brendan shattered completely, body limp in the straps, ass a sloppy, lube-slick mess yielding to her every whim. Drool mixed with tears on his face, moans reduced to whimpers. His caged cock wept endlessly, floor slick with his desperation.

Lorna's fifth orgasm crested as she chased total domination, grinding deep while her walls fluttered wildly. "All mine—every hole, every drop!" She roared, burying the dildo to the hilt, circling her hips to wring out every pulse. Pussy cream soaked the harness completely, thighs glistening.

Finally, she slowed, strap-on still lodged deep, her chest heaving. She slapped his ass one last time—CRACK—leaving a handprint. "Good bitch. You earned your keep today." Pulling out slowly, she watched his hole gape and wink, lube bubbling out. Her pussy throbbed with aftershocks, satisfied but hungry for more.

She then grabbed the lube bottle, and squirted generous amount on a thick butt plug—flared base, tapered to fist-wide. She pushed tip in—slowly stretching him—then rammed it fully in, sealing his wrecked ass. SLAP—one final slap of his ass.

'Good bitch.’, she teased as she strutted around front, heels clicking tile, grabbed his hair yank-up.

She spit right in his flushed face as she degraded him calling him her loser, wimp and useless bitch.'

Brendan blushed crimson as he stuttered, 'Y-yes, Mistress—th-thank you!' His eyes remained downcast in worship while his cock throbbed desperately in the cage. The spikes drew flecks of blood, and he surrendered utterly to her sexiness, her command, and her kinks. He just ached to please her—fetch her coffee, clean her heels, and take her cock forever.

Lorna towered like a goddess, her pussy still pulsing with aftershocks and sweat gleaming on her latex curves. She felt invincible—the deal closed, commission banked, and intern broken perfectly. She always seized what she craved: power, wins, and whimpering toys. 'That's right. Worship your queen.'

Lorna lounged back on her black leather throne, legs spread wide in her thigh-high latex boots that gleamed under the red dungeon lights.

Thick cigar smoke curled from her full lips as she exhaled slowly. The acrid haze drifted down to envelop Brendan's kneeling form. Her red gel nails tapped the armrest while her phone rested in her other hand. She thumbed the app and cranked the vibration in his ass plug to a punishing buzz that made his plugged hole clench rhythmically.

Brendan knelt naked before her, wrists cuffed tight behind his back in cold steel that forced his chest forward. Heavy weights dangled from the clamps biting his nipples, stretching the sensitive buds into long, throbbing peaks that burned with every breath.

Matching weights swung from his balls, yanking them low beneath the flat steel chastity cage. His pathetic 4-inch cock mashed flat against the spikes inside, leaking pre-cum in futile dribbles. The ball shocker attachment hummed to life at her whim—zap—a sharp jolt ripped through his sack, making him yelp into the sole of her boot.

His ass burned like fire. Red welts crisscrossed the cheeks from her riding crop's relentless lashes, handprints overlapped from her slaps, and the fresh stretch came from her massive strap-on pegging him raw earlier.

The collar around his neck tugged tight as he strained forward, lips pressed desperately to her latex boot. He kissed the arched sole with sloppy devotion. His tongue darted out to lick the glossy black surface, tracing every seam and crease as if his worthless life hung on it. 'Mmmph... thank you, Mistress,' he mumbled between fervent sucks, saliva shining on the latex.

She smirked down at him, eyes gleaming with triumph. Always get what I want, she thought, watching her obedient bitch degrade himself. She took another puff of the cigar, then ground her boot heel into his stretched balls, twisting just enough to make the weights swing and pull harder. Zap—the shocker fired again. His body jerked, tongue faltering only to redouble on her sole, lapping faster and sucking the heel like a tiny cock.

'Pathetic little boot licker,' Lorna drawled, her voice husky from the cigar. She flexed her boot, shoving the toe against his caged bulge and rubbing the steel flatness. His hips bucked involuntarily, spikes digging deeper into his straining cockmeat as more pre-cum oozed out. With her phone, she amped the plug's vibe to max—his ass cheeks clenched visibly, the burn from welts flaring hotter as the toy thrummed against his prostate.

Brendan whimpered, face mashed into her boot, kissing wildly now. His tongue swirled over the red sole beneath, tasting faint street grit she'd tracked in just to humiliate him. Nipple weights tugged as his body shook from the shocks—zap-zap—balls contracting in agony-ecstasy and pulling taut against the heavy iron orbs. 'Please, Mistress... your boots... so perfect... I worship them...' he stuttered, blushing crimson with eyes watering but locked on her latex-clad calves.

Lorna laughed low, crossing one boot over the other and forcing him to crane his neck higher. The collar choked him slightly. She ashed the cigar onto his back, the hot ember searing a new mark amid the welts.

'Crawl closer, bitch boy. Suck the heel clean—deep throat it.' He obeyed instantly, shuffling on knees despite the pulling weights, mouth opening wide to engulf her stiletto heel. He bobbed his head, gagging as it hit his throat, tongue swirling the shaft while she casually shocked his balls again, vibrations wrecking his plugged ass.

Her free hand trailed to her skirt, hiking it up—she wasn't touching herself, but her pussy soaked through the lace panties, scent heavy in the air. Watching him slobber on her boot, ass quivering from the remote vibration, nipples elongated to breaking point, she felt another wave of power rush through her. My perfect intern slave. Locked, shocked, plugged, whipped—mine.

She yanked his collar chain, pulling his mouth off the heel with a wet pop. 'Beg for my other boot, worm. Tell me how your tiny spiked cock aches for denial.'

Brendan gasped, face slick with spit, body trembling. 'P-please, Mistress Lorna… let me worship your other boot... my worthless 4-inch dick throbs in the spikes… your cage owns my cock… please shock my balls more... I live for your boots...'

Grinning wickedly, she extended the fresh boot, her heel dripping his saliva. He dove in, kissing, licking, sucking with frantic need, the dungeon echoing his muffled moans as she ramped every toy—vibes, shocks, weights swinging wild.

Her cigar burned low, triumph swelling as she plotted what came next.