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Message-ID: <31730asstr$996433804@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: cowgirl_stupid@yahoo.com (cowgirl)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 29 Jul 2001 16:20:38 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Four new HUMILIATION STORIES by cowgirl.
Date: Sun, 29 Jul 2001 15:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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------------------------------------------------------
WARNING ADULT CONTENT - Please don't read if 
your underage. cowgirl MEANS it!!! I know that only makes 
it more attractive and stuff, but just...DONT! For my piece 
of mind, be a good little munchkins and do as aunty cowgirl 
asks! Go play ball, take a cold shower, look at bras in a sears 
catalouge or something, but please,please,please, DON'T 
discover about sex from MY warped little tales. Okay? {I have 
enough manufactuerd guilt as it is.} Thank you - the management. 
---------------------------------------------------


Hello all,

If you like erotic humiliation stories, here's the first of FOUR NEW
STORIES  've written
(big woop, right?I mean, it IS only a friggin' sex story jen!) and
posted and on my
"Alt.Sex.Stories.Text.Repository." site. 

WARNING: Though she now TRIES to use 
a spell checker, cowgirl is STILL probably 
the worst speller on the net. Seriously. Now 
if your still THAT desperate for humiliation 
stories...

...well then.......Cool! 
Keep reading...

Two of these stories have been on my A.S.S.T.R site for a while (so
you maye have all ready read them if you visit there a lot). But I'm
telling folks HERE, in case they haven't checked in lately. The other
two are brand spankin' new! (had to say SOMETHIN' dirty to wake you up
after talking you to death!)

Okay....enough chatter...(grr at self).....!!!!!!!


HERE's where to find ALL my humiliation stories, {as if you don't all
ready know by now, right?} :-)

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Cowgirl/


1) Housegirl (which is included below) 
2) Love Letters 
3) Self Esteem
4) My Sexists Boss


_____________________

Now on to the smutt:

_________________________

House girl (F/F,NC?,Clothing Fetish?)
cowgirl






I fidgeted, all ready knowing the job interviewer wasn't pleased with
something. I was well qualified and
everything, but there was a unreadable expression on her face. I'd
read several books on positive interviews
and really needed something quick, as the whole "dot com" blood bath
had made upper management jobs totally
expendable. 

I prayed my desperation was hidden beneath my arched back straining
shoulders, phony smile and spiffy little
three hundred dollar business dress, jacket and designer high heels.
Once hired I could relax and revert typical
relaxed slumped posture, casual sneakers, jeans and baseball cap. I
flashed my phony smile once more, with
the same puzzling expression. 

"I see you've worked a lot of places...Miss Corbitt is it?" She asked. 

" Jennifer, please. And Yes, I've been "stolen" away from a lot of
software companies of late, not to brag or
anything..." I shrugging at my own lame lie. She started back, rubbing
her chin and flicked a tousle of her
autumn hair from out of her face, studying my resume. 

 I watching for any crack in her armor, trying to hide my
desperateness. Nobody hires desperate. Couldn't hide I
was looking, but I'd been on the hiring side of that desk, and I could
smell desperation. I was an excellent
bargaining chip, if someone was stupid enough to let it show.  


" Weeeeell, you know what things are like out there Miss Corbitt." She
said as I perched forward in my seat.

" Jennifer....please..." I said a little too fast. 


" Okay. Jennifer. I do have a position you'd be perfect for It's
something your completely qualified for.  But it's
not with this company. It's with me, personally. interested? " She
said measuredly.

" Sounds great. I mean, could you explain... "  I blinked. 

She paused.  "House girl."

I stared at her in shock. 

For a moment everything froze. Her eyes held me there as my breath
quickened, cheeks becoming warm. Her
caustic tone made me flush in  humiliation, and her possessive stare
coercing my petulant reply.

"House girl?  You mean like a housekeeper?"  I was too stunned to even
allow myself angry.

" That a problem?" She chirped. 

My fists curled into little balls as I let my shoulders slump a bit,
the high heels pinching my feet suddenly
feeling like clown shoes. I mean, was this bitch deliberately *trying*
to humiliate me or was she actually
fucking serious here? I clearly had nine years experience in upper
management in software development for
god's sake. The bile to rose in my stomach, despite her attitude
setting off something threatening to burst
from inside. 

" No offense, but don't you consider myself a little over qualified
for a simple housekeeper?" I said, hating how
I'd added "no offense" in the slim chance I'd miss understood. 

" With your resume?" She lifted her gaze, eyes meeting mine. 

" Well, yes. Nine years. at - " 

" I'm not here to negotiate. There's fifty more like you outside my
office who'll jump at the chance to work for
me personally. Don't be stupid jenny. " 

" Jennifer." I snapped, aware my face was scarlet and my hands were
now shaking with fury at myself for
allowing her for think of me this way. 

" It bothers you doesn't it?" She said with a a sympathetic smirk. 

" *Bothers* is a understatement..." I said frostily, reaching for my
purse and struggling to get up. n.

" Let me ask you something. This isn't really you, is it?" She asked, 
voice froze me me once again.

I paused, turned away from her gaze, facing the door. 

" What do you mea- ." I choked, as she continued. 

" All this. All dolled up in a Kors Michael Kors dress, expensive
designer Heels and trendy matching jacket. It's
not the real Jennifer Corbitt, is it now? " She asked unflinchingly. 

I should have known she'd see through me. Part of me was relieved,
thought it also deepened my humiliation. My
shoulders slumped even lower, if possible into mt rightful position
before this stranger. And for some reason,
I answered her. 

Honestly answered in a quiet little suffocated whisper, back turned. 

" no. " 

" I'll tell you want Jennifer. I'd like you to do me a favor. Go home,
change into what you normally wear, and
we'll start over, okay? " She asked without looking up at her paper
work.

For a moment everything froze once again. I could imagine her eyes
boring into me from behind me as my breath
quickened, cheeks flushing from her the mock severity in her voice.
Her authority and composed tone made me
for some reason flush with wild excitement, and I felt an odd warmth,
little by little, creep over my body,
hands and nape of my moistening neck. 



As I rushed home my body was exploding with strange anger and desire,
as my mind raced in circles endlessly,
wondering if I really had a shot in hell here.  I collapsed on my bed
and soaked myself in the remembrance of
her firm warm voice in my head. Housgirl. Not even houselady or house
woman? Why would she think of me for
that? jesus, talk about degrading! I shed my expensive useless dress
in a heap on the floor, and stood there
naked and trembling. But not with fear. Anticipation. 

Still nude, I dug through my file cabinet and pulled dozens of folders
and awards I'd stacked up professional
over the last nine years and carefully laid them out out on my bedroom
floor. It didn't look like much. A padded
resume, a few cheesy "best employee of the month" token gestures from
each company I'd bluffed my way into,
until they caught on what a fake I was. I felt a tingling inside at
how close to the truth this woman may have
been, and I had to fight the desire to touch myself as I started
hatefully at my embarrassing excuse for a
career sprawled across my bedroom floor. 

I licked my lips as I remembered, embarrassed and eventually fired for
petty things like stealing office
supplies and stupidly opening my legs for any superior that moved. My
fingers played across my tummy and
walked their way down my thighs as I realized what I lie I'd been
living. Telling myself fucking would advance
me up the ladder, which of course it never did.  I just became the
office whore. my fingers could no longer
resist as I surrendered into a rhythmic blur across of my panties,
remembering and shuddering and desperately
trying to see what in me advertised: "housegirl"? Nobody respected me,
and rightly so. I didn't respect myself,
or my work. I rubbed faster as more furious as I worked myself into
little hysterical whimpers, fucking myself
silly. Jennifer doesn't like hard work, and this lady could see that.
Jennifer's laziness and worthlessness
showed too. Actually quite a joke as a career. Pure shit really. 

I dropped to the floor and started spitting on the folders and rutting
my face into them as I writhed across the
floor in a shameful orgasmic tantrum. House girl. Jenny the little
houesgirl.  A floating cloud of erotic bliss
carried me as I caught the image of myself maturating and crying on
the floor. I fought tears of disappointment
and as I poured over my every physical flaw my body had with great
gusto, scrutinizing my squirming self in
hands buried in my underwear and bra in the mirror. I imagined how
ruthless she'd be if she saw me now, and
winced at the words. It wasn't simply doing housework. I mean I'd been
doing my own since I'd moved from
home at twenty one. It was her rightful disregard for all I'd achieved
over the years. Obviously I'd wasn't worth
doing anyone's housework and we both knew it. She could smell my fear,
my panic. She'd discovered the real
me. 

A though flashed through my mind as I wiped some drool from my mouth.
Why was the image of being my
interviewer's personal "housegirl" so fucking hot for me?  I mean, I'd
never even thought about this before my
interview. Then I suddenly felt that same feeling when she'd first
offered, and later when I tried to leave.  An
unfathomable warmth and deep shame. 

I remembered something I really should do. 

I jumped up, still in an pleasant little erotic fog, and threw on a
apron and put some oven mitts on, trying to
look as domestic as possible, but also threw on my high heels, as a
way of showing how silly the Idea really
was. I wanted to be a sexual joke, an ornamentation, not a real
housegirl. I wasn't sure if I was just dressing
up to further humiliate myself for what. There was surely no way I'd
appear before her like this. The view of
myself in the mirror made me unbelievably aroused. 

I checked my bank account as I yielded to the compulsive sobs that
shook me, realizing I've now only one
mouthed rent left after the stupid dress n' various crappy expenses. I
raced back to the mirror and looked at
how silly looked dressed in a frilly apron and oven mitts, naked from
the waist down and in shinny high heels
to boot, and broke into fresh sobs! If I got some strange thrill from
the humiliation of privately torturing
myself playing big ladies little housegirl, that was my sickness. She
never had to know.

She wasn't *really* asking me to do this, not really, right? Part of
me HAD to believe this was all her way of
'telling me off 'for being such a phony, and I was sure I sensed this
' go back and change" speech was all a bluff
to bring me down a peg or two. Too see if I'd blink. Hell' I'd blink
if that'd get me in upper management.  I
composed myself and, with shaky fingers, got dressed, in normal
clothes this time. I also put my folders of
achievements in a box by my purse. I knew she wasn't really the kind
of boss who'd seriously offer me a
fucking "housegirl" position for god's sake. It was a test, one I was
privately failing. But she couldn't really
expect me to, well....And if she did, well, I'd just walk out in my
comfortable clothes this time.  Yes time to
walk back into her office and face her as an adult, if I could get my
fingers out of my panties that is.

________

" There's that's better isn't it?" She asked as I walked in. 

" Much." I said as I slumped into her chair, trying to sound like a
different person, dressed in jeans and a tee
shirt and sneakers. 

" Okay, where were we?"  She asked pointedly. 

" The job?." I said trying not to bite my lower lip. 

" Right. " She said, eyes holding me there. " Jennifer, before we
begin, what have have you there? " She asked,
pointing to the box. 

" It's all my personal achievements. Awards, Professional
accomplishments, etc.,. Just to show you what I'm
really suited for. " I said proudly. 

" Fabulous. Be a sport and bring them closer!" she chirped as I lugged
the box over, trying to ignore the
closeness of her presence to me. 

She took my cheek in her hand as I froze before her once again, the
warmth of her fingers melting me instantly.
" Someone's been a naughty little business lady, hasn't she? " She
said, gently guiding me over her lap as I
squirm a little ahd she hold me there firmly, as she skillfully
unbuttoning my jeans from underneath.

" You poor little piece of white trash! You desperately keep running
in circles, trying to figure out what this
new obsession with my offer, don't you my little dummy? And what's
this supposed to prove? " She asked
pointing to my box of stuff." 

" Jenny, my silly little jenny-poo...Won't it be a relief to finally
finally stop pretending? Huh? Doesn't your my
little girl get tired of trying to fool everyone by trying what's
beyond your skills? Doesn't she?" My employer
cooed encouragingly, as I fought to keep from nodding.

She reached over and handed me my first folder, her eyes guiding me to
the paper shredder, knowing what was
expected. 

"If you want to be my little housegirl you'll have to *earn* it, right
jenny? Now be a good little muffin and
show you know your place, okay princess? Hurry up." Her eyes danced
with cruel affection as my eyes fogged
over with desire. 

I tearfully started shredding, folder by folder, my entire nine years
of hard work as she works my jeans come
down exposing my bare bottom obscenely exposed over her lap and feel a
slight slap to punctuate my
humiliation further. 

" That's my little domestic. Goooooodddd Giiiiirrrrrllll....." 

I t more alive, frightened, heart racing, hands shaking, as she works
the rest of my clothes of and starts
spanking her little housegirl hard and furious now as sob in blessed
relief, utterly destroy that last of my old
life. As the last of my clothes off, I humped myself into her knee and
grunted passionately and proudly as my
now exposed the frilly apron I still had on underneath became visible.
I hear her laugh as she digs out the mitts
and high heels from the box. 

" Oh my, look what you've been hiding! Looks like my little housegirl
came to work prepared for a change this
time, didn't she?" 

"yeeeesss ma'am." I managed to gurgle.  

 



END



*******

This work is copyright (c) 2000 by cowgirl. You may  
download and keep copies for your personal use as long 
as the author's byline and e-mail address and this 
paragraph remain on the copies. Please do not post this 
story to any web site without permission from the 
author. All other rights reserved. No alteration of the 
contents is permitted.

********


Including the above, please look for these New Additions at my
a.s.s.t.r page :

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Cowgirl/

1) Housegirl - (which you've just read) 
 
2) Love Letters  - A girl unhealthy relationship is revealed to
another woman some humiliating degrading intimate love letters. Starts
out slow - but worth the wait.
 
3) Self Esteem -  This is a sequel to "Cat Sand". After a degrading
break up with her room mate, Jennifer is trying to drum self esteem
slogans into her head and fears she may be slipping back to her old
roles in life.

4) My Sexists Boss -  Jennifer is hopping mad about her sexist boss's
crude insensitive comments about woman, but her lover Alex is worried
her anger masks something more. *

*My sexist Boss is  kinda sick, and totally offenive to lesbians, I
mean "real" ones. Sorry in advance. But feminisim means the freedom to
explore ANY erotic themes, however repugnant to family girls, who I
obviously have total sympathy with, since I'm kinda like...one myself!

Plus my friend C-man wrote the sickest parts, being the "guy" he is,
so I'm kinda off the hook, right?

<weak embarrassed shrug>


Thanks! 
cowgirl (aka: jennifer) 

**********

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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