Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and looked at Mrs. Dylan with a baffled, disconnected look on his face.
“What’s going on, Jeremy?” she asked.
“Something else happened to me,” he said quietly.
Mrs. Dylan said nothing. She just held his gaze. Just let him talk, she thought to herself.
“Uh, it happened when you started twisting my nipples. It hurt. And your eyes were hard… unforgiving… scary. There was a kind of flashing going on in them. I knew you were enjoying it. And I knew I couldn’t stop you.”
He paused and Mrs. Dylan could see he was struggling to control himself.
“Go on,” she said.
His voice was breaking as he struggled to speak.
“Your eyes changed,” he began. “At first they were almost triumphant in their look. And then it was like you were beckoning me. And when you were asking me who owned me, I said you did.”
He continued, “I…I…uh…didn’t say you owned me because you were forcing me to. I said it because I wanted to say it. Um, Mrs. Dylan…I knew it was true…and then, despite the pain from you squeezing and twisting my nipples, I just drifted off into some quiet space I’ve never been before.”
Jeremy stopped and let out a sigh. “I just knew at that moment, that you could do anything you wanted to me and I would follow.”
He paused. Looking at Mrs. Dylan he sputtered, “And I know that now.”
She saw tears running down his face.
“This is good, Jeremy. You needed to say it for yourself. And I needed to hear you say it without me forcing it out of you.”
She patted his hand and sat back in her chair.
“Now I want you to dry those tears. And then I want you to listen to me.”
“Yes, Mrs. Dylan,” he said in a rough voice. He pulled his t-shirt up and brushed his tears away.
“Now,” she continued. “When we are in private you will call me Ma’am. If we happen to be together in public then you can call me Mrs. Dylan. Understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Next. Remember this. I am sadistic. I like causing pain. It gives me pleasure. I will hurt you but know this: I will never harm you. Understand?”
“I think so. Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good.”
“I want to know if you’ve had sex yet. Have you been with a woman?”
Jeremy stared wide eyed at Mrs. Dylan. He could feel his face turning red.
“Uh, well, I had a girl friend in high school,” he mumbled.
“For crying out loud, boy. It’s a simple question. Yes or no. Have you had sex?”
“No,” he whispered.
She looked at him for a moment and then placed her hands on the table.
“My last rule,” she began, “the only time you are allowed to cum is with me. No masturbation. No girlfriends. No ejaculations at all unless I approve it. Understand?”
“Uh, yes, Ma’am,” he said slowly. “Only with you.”
“And only when I say you can.” She emphasized.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly,
“OK. Come with me.”
Mrs Dylan pushed herself out of her chair and walked out of the dining room. Jeremy jumped up and followed after her. She walked into the kitchen and then across it to a door. She opened it and then disappeared through it. A few seconds later, a light turned on and illuminated a set of stairs. Jeremy went to the stairs and looked down. Stairs to the basement, he thought. Mrs. Dylan was at the bottom of the stairs and moving out of his sight. He followed her down. As he walked down the stairs and could see more of the basement, he was stunned by what he saw. He stood on the bottom stair and tried to take in the room. The wall at the far end of the room had what looked like two long planks fastened together as an ‘x’. The two planks had what he thought were cuffs at both their ends. On the wall to his left were some chairs and a few small tables. Canes, whips, and other implements he didn’t recognize were hung in an orderly fashion along that wall. On the other side of the room, Mrs. Dylan was standing by what looked like a trainer’s table or a table he’s seen in a physiotherapist’s office for people to lie on to be treated. Beside the table was a four-drawer dresser with a small cabinet on top of it. She was standing with her legs slightly spread and her arms crossed on her chest. He saw she definitely had an amused look on her face.
“Like my playroom, boy?” she said.
Jeremy just stared at her dumbly.
After a few seconds, the bemused look on her face was replaced by a stern look.
“What did I say about answering me, boy?”. Her voice held a threat in it.
Mrs. Dylan walked to the other side of the room and pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.
“Come here now.”
Jeremy felt nailed to the spot he was standing.
“Boy.” Her voice was menacing and that flinty dark eyed gaze that so unsettled him was directed right at him.
He moved with reluctant effort towards her. He stopped in front of her and looked down into that scary gaze.
“Lie down over my lap,” she ordered him.
“Ma’am?”, he replied stupidly.
She reached over and grabbed him around his wrist. It felt like a vice had closed on his wrist. Opening her legs slightly, Mrs. Dylan dragged him between those huge legs. Pulling him down, she forced him over her left thigh. Her left hand gripped the back of Jeremy’s neck and forced it down as hard as she could. His head was almost touching the floor. She then closed her right leg against Jeremy’s legs which were then held firmly between her legs. He was immobilized and bent over her knee. With her right hand she reached across his ass and grabbed the waist band of his shorts and forced them down. She then took hold of the other side of his shorts and forced them down as well. His bare ass was now exposed.
“Mrs. Dylan! I…I mean Ma’am. What are you doing?” he yelped. He tried to move but he couldn’t budge.
Mrs. Dylan lay her right hand over the bare skin of his ass. She felt herself quivering with excitement. She raised her hand high and brought it down has hard as she could on his right ass cheek…whack! The sound echoed in the room. Up went her right hand again and it fell hard on his left cheek…whack! The sound thrilled her. The boy squealed. She loved that desperate sound. Alternating smacks on each cheek, she smashed her hand on to his reddening cheeks eight more times. The boy was squirming ineffectively under her. Finishing, she moved her hand gently over the reddening skin of his tight ass.
“Those were for not answering me. Don’t ever do that again,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whined. “It won’t happen again. I promise….please stop.”
“Now, these are for not coming to me when I told you to come to me,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.
She raised her hand high again and rained five consecutive blows, hard and fast, on to his right ass cheek…whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! The boy was gasping. This feels so good, she thought.
She then switched immediately to his left check…whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! His ass was turning a glorious red. She grinned, admiring her work.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “Please…no more.”
“And these are for not getting over my knee when I told you to. Don’t ever not obey me again, boy,” she hissed.
Up her hand went again and down it fell with force on his right cheek. Up her hand went and down it came again on to his left cheek. The sound of her hand smashing onto his butt reverberated around the room. This time she had no set number of blows. Right cheek, left cheek she continued on. Her hand began to sting but the sting felt good to her. Her breathing became more laboured as she continued spanking him. She felt the boy struggling to free himself but this only encouraged to tighten her grip on his neck and legs and rain her blows down harder on his now scarlet colored ass. His squeals and pleas to stop acted as fuel to her desire to inflict pain on him. Her whole body was in the rhythm of the spanking and the blows kept coming and coming and coming. Then she felt him stop struggling. Mrs. Dylan continued to smash her hand onto his exposed ass, pushed by a glorious feeling of triumphant success. He just lay motionless and quiet, unable to stop it and accepting what she was doing to him. The sweet point she thought where he knew struggle was useless and all that was left for him was to accept, he could do nothing to stop her. He had let go into her dominance. That was the sweetest feeling of all for her. The spanking stopped. She ran her hand over the blood red ass. The boy let out a whimper but he just lay across her thigh, not moving. She felt herself breaking out in a broad smile.