Jeremy had been struggling to process what had happened to him since Mrs. Dylan had left him lying on the wrestling ring mat almost fours ago. (See Part 2) He knew he was in way over his head. He had no experience to fall back on to help him understand his feelings in this situation. She had beat the shit out of him in that ring. His stomach was still sore from the punching and pummelling she had subjected him to. There were bruises on his belly where he had been hit. He remembered feeling totally physically beaten lying on the mat gasping for air after she had finished with him. If that hadn’t been enough, his sore nipples were a constant reminder of how he completely lost his will to say no to her. He should be afraid of her. But he wasn’t. As scary as she had been in that ring, and as scary as she was right now to him, he wanted to be with her. He wanted to be dominated by Mrs. Dylan. How fucked up was that?
The door opened and there stood Mrs. Dylan. Even after having experienced her destroying him that morning, he still couldn’t get over the size of her. She just filled the doorway. He couldn’t even see anything at all behind her. She just blocked it out. She wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts which, as he understood cargo shorts, were supposed to be loose fitting but were stretched tight over her massive legs and even larger butt. She wore a light blue tank top that hugged her big breasts and round stomach. She brought those huge arms up and folded them across her breasts making her arms even more intimidating than they normally were to him. She leaned against the door frame, staring at Jeremy with those hard, dark eyes of her and a wicked smile across her face.
“Hi, Mrs. Dylan,” he said trying to held her gaze as best he could. He didn’t want her to know how uncertain he felt.
Mrs. Dylan said nothing. She just looked at him, sizing him up. She wondered what affect her domination of him in the gym that morning had had upon him.
Jeremy felt uneasy when she didn’t reply. She just looked at him like, he thought, she was inspecting a new piece of furniture or some other new acquisition. The silence between them was becoming unbearable to him. He couldn’t stand it.
“I came at 1 just like you told me to,” he said, trying to break the silence. He wondered if she was angry with him. Or maybe she’s had second thoughts and decided he’s not right. Jeremy wished she’d say something and stop staring at him so intensely.
Mrs. Dylan pushed herself off of the door frame and turned to go back into the house.
“Leave the flip-flops outside,” she said. “Follow me, boy. Close the door too.” She moved into the house.
Jeremy quickly slipped out of his flip-flops, walked into the house and closed the door. There was a lot of natural light streaming into the house. He looked down the hallway but couldn’t see Mrs. Dylan.
“Mrs. Dylan?” he called out tentatively.
“In the dining room, boy.”
Jeremy walked down the hallway to the dining room. He looked inside and saw Mrs. Dylan sitting at the far end of the dining room table. He stood outside the doorway looking at her. Staring hard at him, Mrs. Dylan beckoned him in with a small wave of her hand. As she did so, she motioned with her head for him sit at her end of the table to the right corner from where she sat. Jeremy moved to the spot she indicated and sat down. He was careful not to accidentally touch her.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
Jeremy shook his head.
“When I ask you a question, you answer me with words, boy.”
“Um, no Mrs. Dylan, I’m not hurt. No sprains or anything like that. My stomach is still a bit sore though.”
“Bruising?”
“Just a bit on my stomach.”
“Stand up,” she demanded. “Show me.”
Jeremy stood up and pulled up his t-shirt to reveal his belly. She could see bruising under his rib cage. She reached out and gently touched the bruises.
“Does that hurt when I touch it?”
“Not really. It did a couple of hours ago. But now, not so much.”
“Are you feeling any discomfort anywhere else?” she asked.
Jeremy paused. Mrs. Dylan could see he was deciding what to say.
“Well,” she said impatiently, “out with it.”
She noticed he was blushing.
“Um, well, my nipples are really tender. They’re really sore to touch.”
Mrs. Dylan looked him directly in the eyes.
“Good,” she said. “Now sit down.”
Jeremy sat down. Mrs. Dylan leaned forward on her elbows with her forearms and hands flat on the dining table.
“Now listen carefully to me, boy. I’m going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them honestly and to the best of your ability. Understand?”
Jeremy nodded.
“Words, boy. Use your words,” barked loudly at him. “I will not tell you that again. Don’t get me angry, boy.”
Her dark eyes were flashing as she spoke.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dylan. It won’t happen again,” he sputtered.
“It better not,” she hissed.
She collected herself. She didn’t want to be angry during this time. It was important for her to be calm or he won’t be calm.
“Now, let’s begin again,” she said. “Tell me, what did you experience in the wrestling ring this morning?”
Jeremy wasn’t expecting that question. He looked down at the table so he wouldn’t have to look into her eyes as he spoke. He knew that would unnerve him.
“I’ve been asking that myself for most of the morning,” he began, speaking slowly and deliberately. He let out a long slow breath. “I felt overwhelmed,” he stammered.
“Overwhelmed by what? How were you overwhelmed?” she questioned.
He continued to stare at the table trying to come up with the words to describe how he had felt overwhelmed.
“Jeremy,” said Mrs. Dylan with emphasis. “Look at me when you are speaking to me. Always look at me.”
He looked at her.
“I felt physically overwhelmed by you. You were like an unstoppable train. There was nothing I could do to slow you down, let alone to stop you.”
Jeremy paused for a brief moment. Looking at Mrs. Dylan, he noticed her eyes didn’t look as hard as they just were. Her eyes seemed to offer an encouragement for him to continue. He looked away for a fraction of a second and then looked at her again.
“I even tried punching you as hard as I could to stop you but you were like a juggernaut,” he continued. “When you landed on my stomach, I thought I was going to die. I really did.”
Mrs. Dylan nodded her understanding. “Go on,” she said quietly.
“When you helped me get my breath back, I knew you weren’t going to kill me. But I was angry for the way you hurt me.”
“OK,” she responded. “What else happened?”
Jeremy let out a long sigh. “I can’t explain what happened next. I’m still trying to process it.”
“Process what?” she inquired.
“I can’t describe it very well. I’ve never had a feeling like that before. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
“Try, boy.”
“Lying on the mat trying to catch my breath and collect myself, I knew you were physically more powerful than I was. I knew physically you could do whatever you wanted to me. There was nothing I could do to stop you.”