Bully

Ch. 04

A mother submits

Alicia was struck dumb. Admitting to this bully that she was his slut was despicable. It was her being bad, not him. Not just bad, she was disgusting. He was just a naughty eighteen-year-old boy, whereas she was a mature woman of thirty-six, and should know better.

Being naturally submissive had been awkward at times, but suddenly it had become dangerous. Visiting James to ask him not to bully her son, had turned into a nightmare. He was an accomplished bully, far more manipulative than she could have imagined.

A combination of blackmail, and a threat to her son, had her complying to his demands. He'd dressed her to look like a slut, though it was behaving like one that was damning. Had he corrupted her, or just brought out the slut in her?

James cleverly put her into bad situations, so she had to beg him to get her out of them. Begging a mere boy for help, added to the feeling of being pathetic and vulnerable. Promising to do whatever he wanted, became more demeaning every time.

***

Keeping up with his long strides, she had to jog. Her braless breasts were bouncing around in the blouse. That didn't matter, as it was vital to get back to his car and leave the school. If anyone saw her dressed like a slut, it would be so very bad for her reputation. What would they think of her, trotting along beside this bully. Would they guess how disgusting she had been?

They drove from her son's school, after Alicia promised to go anywhere he wanted. There was no choice, she had to submit to her son's bully. He just laughed at her discomfort, telling her she had to obey him, if she didn't want the nasty video's uploaded onto the internet.

They both sat silently contemplating the last twelve hours. It had been a hell of a ride for both of them, though experienced completely differently. Alicia had been humiliated beyond endurance. James took control of a mature woman, and fucked her.

James looked across to her, and couldn't help grinning. It looked as though she were sinking into the seat, trying to disappear. Certainly she didn't want to be there, but the woman had no choice. He'd snared the woman with well honed bullying tactics. In his home, the submissive mother hadn't stood a chance.

'Where are we going?' she asked.

'You don't need to know, you just go where, when, and do whatever I say,' he smirked.

'You could still tell me,' she tried.

'What can you do about it if I told you?' he said.

Again he was turning her positive thoughts around, pulling them apart, leaving her feeling pessimistic. Any attempt to free herself he blocked, for her to feel hopeless.

Before she could answer he pulled up, and said, 'Here.'

They both realised she hadn't tried to deny that she was complying with his demands. Her mouth worked hard, yet the words couldn't be found to object. Damn it! Her son was the same age as James, yet she found herself trapped into obeying him.

'Alright, whatever you say,' she murmured.

The area was a rough, abandoned warehousing district. James was from a nice middle class family, well, maybe not so nice. So when did he go off the rails, and why? That might be a clue as to why he was doing this to her, and point to a way out of the mess.

'Stop daydreaming and get out,' he said, and tugged her arm.

A small door opened in a larger one, leading into a warehouse. There were teenagers standing around in groups. Like James they were eighteen. Despite dressing like one of them, she felt everyone of her thirty-six years. He dragged her by the arm to a group of youths talking in a corner. Loud music drowned out what was said.

'My latest, Alicia,' he introduced her.

Alicia cringed at the idea of being his latest girlfriend. They were looking at her as though she were a common slut. It didn't take much thought to realise that was how she looked, and how she was behaving. They could see she was old, yet didn't say anything.

One or two nodded their heads, that's all. Adolescents find it difficult to communicate, and certainly couldn't show emotion. Inconvenience them, and a reaction might be seen. As long as they could sleep in, stay out late, have money when wanted, they could function without a problem.

Alicia noticed a girl in the corner, slumped on a sofa.

She couldn't help asking, by shouting over the music, 'Is she alright? How old is she?'

'That's Philly, she's eighteen, same birthday as me,' James informed her.

The girl looked older, much older, almost as old as she did. Obviously drugs had aged the poor thing.

James was welcomed into the group with a slight motion of the hand, or a raised eyebrow. Having embarrassed her with this group, others were found to discomfit her. They walked to another area of the warehouse, to grab a coffee.

'Hi, Rainbow, anything going?' James asked.

'Not much. This the bitch you want pierced?' he asked, sounding disinterested.

'Yea. Now okay?' James asked.

He'd arranged it on the phone, though Rainbow wasn't so hot on dates and times. Sometimes James thought it was contrived, to go with his reputation. He was a hippy, decades too late. He knew the music, and had a rainbow tattoo across his back. Wearing beads, long hair, and a beard, fitted the contrived image.

They walked across the warehouse to a far corner, with James holding tight onto her hand.

'Sit there,' James told her.

He lifted the skirt and tucked it into the waist band.

'Lift your hips,' he ordered and pulled her panties off.

Alicia slammed her thighs together. He pulled one leg over, the other came with it, so he slapped her leg, hard. Another slap to her face, and she separated them. He pulled the leg against the side of the chair. He slid a bar into a slot at the front of the chair, holding the leg in place. He did the same to the other leg, so she was sitting with legs spread.

The word piercing had been heard, though nothing else. It seemed too late now but she had to try.

'Please, James, I can't have a piercing. My husband will see it. Please! Don't pierce me,' she whined.

It wasn't just her husband finding out that bothered her. With legs spread, the word piercing was frightening. She felt so very vulnerable, it was shocking. What were they going to pierce?

When the other boy moved closer, she tightly closed her eyes. He was carrying instruments of torture, as far as she was concerned. His fingers were pulling on her labia! Allowing a complete stranger to see her naughty bits was wrong, yet he was touching her down there. Trying to pull her legs together was a useless effort but she had to try.

'James!' she complained.

Too late, his name became a drawn out wail of protest. It felt like a bee sting, though maybe more like a staple gun. Being between her legs in a sensitive place, it should have been excruciating. It was painful yet lessening to a burning sting. While she stared at her sex, the boy did it again. Not so painful this time, as maybe she had become used to it.

Seeing him put the machine away, she took a deep breath, and whimpered. The sound just emerged, without thought or intending it. The stranger fiddled with the piercing, doing something down there. He then soothed her sex with ointment. It helped a little. He gave her a small jar of the stuff.

'Put this on twice a day,' the young guy told her.

The bars were removed, allowing her to pull her legs together. A little sound of complaint was heard so she had to keep them separated, as though having ridden the range all day. Pulling up her panties at least gave her a small sense of privacy.

'James, can I have my panties, please!' she pathetically asked.

Again he had her begging for something. She gave into his demands too easily. He put her into these terrible situations, where she had to beg him for help.

'Not yet,' is all he said.

He grabbed her hand to drag her toward the original group she had met. Not wearing panties again put her in a difficult situation. Alicia pressed up against him, from feeling so vulnerable. The skirt was far too short not to be wearing panties. With the piercing throbbing away it felt downright dirty to be naked.

'Did Rainbow do a good job?' one of the guys asked.

'What do you think?' James asked them, and lifted the skirt up.

'Oww! Please, sir,' Alicia whispered.

It felt as though she had been slapped. They were all staring at her bare pussy! It had been shaved, and under strict order orders she would have to keep it smooth. They laughed at her pussy, leaving her feeling worthless. A tour of the warehouse, had her trotting along to keep up with him. Showing off her naughty bits, and the little rings piercing her lips, was dreadful.

Awkwardly, she followed James to his car. He chuckled, managing to suppress outright laughter. She looked at him with stares that could kill at twenty paces. It was fortunate that he was invulnerable, as he was the one driving. When they arrived at his father's house, she was about to use the strength of anger, produced by this latest indignity.

At least one of the adolescents had visited her son, and her home. Staring at her sex meant he hadn't recognised her. The indignity of having her son's friends seeing her dressed and treated like a worthless slut, was devastating.

'This has got to stop! You can't do this to me. I'm a grown woman, a wife and mother, with responsibilities. It's got to stop! James, do you hear me?' she bleated like a lost sheep.

'Agreed. You will take a shower, while I get your clothes,' he sweetly smiled at her.

The ease with which he clamped down upon her protest stymied her yet again. It left her speechless. Trying to force the decision as though it were hers, would do no good, so she kept quiet. He was up to something, but what?

Following him through the house to his bedroom, left her feeling like his latest girlfriend. This is where he took her to bed, and thoroughly screwed her. He was still directing her, making the decisions. Whatever she said, or tried to do, she would be outwitted and outmanoeuvred. It made her feel as though she really were a stupid slut of a girlfriend.

It felt as though she were an object, something to be fucked, whenever he felt like it.

'Get undressed,' he firmly told her.

Deciding to defy him she crossed her arms, standing with legs apart, wearing a cross expression on her face. He took a step toward her, and looked down upon her. His large muscular frame loomed over her, casting a shadow over her determination.

'Do you want your clothes, or not?' he asked.

The menace in his voice made her wince as though struck. Her arms slid to her sides, and a look of defeat replaced the expression of anger. With the feeling of being slapped, her demeanour returned to being submissive.

'Please, James, can, can I, please, have my clothes, please,' she respectfully asked.

'Get undressed,' he demanded.

It wasn't as though he hadn't seen her naked, so why the fear? Returning home made her family seem close, and real again. That feeling had faded, as though she belonged here. The feeling of family returned so very strongly, it hurt. An effort had to be made to regain her morals, and a rightness back into her life.

Could all this dirty behaviour be put aside? Not easily. Not for some while, though time would heal the wounds.

Very slowly, she undid the knotted blouse, opening it to reveal her breasts. Shrugging it off her shoulders, she dropped the awful rag to the floor. The skirt was unzipped, and left to fall to her feet, where she kicked it toward the blouse. The panties were in his pocket. There wasn't much to them, but she had become used to wearing a thong.

Glancing at him made her quietly gasp. He had an erection tenting his jeans. A slow striptease had been performed before him, and excited him. It hadn't been on purpose, had it? Did she perform this lewd dance to gain his cooperation, to make sure he let her go? Damn! He had her dancing to his tune for almost twenty-four hours. Stripping for him was nothing, compared to the things she did in his bed.

Just laying back and letting him take her was bad enough. Sucking him dry was a terrible indictment to her morality.

He took her hand and led her into the bathroom. Completely naked, she felt awful, yet excited at the same time. What was he going to do to her next?

His big hand cupped her entire sex and crotch. He was very gentle with her, carefully washing down there clean. The little rings through the labia were still hurting, reminding her this boy had ordered her sex to be pierced. When she got home the first thing she did would be to remove the distasteful things.

He rubbed ointment into her sex, and to her distress it was sexing her up! The damn boy was yet again arousing her! She looked at him in confusion, almost ready to plead for completion.

From somewhere he produced her clothes. They were pressed, ready to wear. Even her panties were neatly folded. He watched her pull on the sensible white cotton panties. By necessity, carefully over her sensitive sex.

'Ouch!' she quietly breathed.

Not wanting to touch herself down there in front of him, she only just refrained. He keenly watched her strip in reverse. His eyes were aflame with passion. He desired her, which heated her up. Trying to calm herself did no good. Be damned if she would ask him, or even speak to him.

Alicia glared at him, then thought better of it, in-case he changed his mind.

***

On the drive home she wondered if it would be possible to call on the police. Some of his cum was still inside her as evidence. Pulling over she thought it through. He had evidence on video, of her getting into his bed without complaining. The clip of her sucking on his cock was damning. It all looked so bad. His intimidation, slapping, spanking, and blackmail, didn't feature in those horrid videos.

There was nothing to do but go home, with head hanging low in shame.

***

'How's your friend?' Harold asked.

'What? Oh, recovering. It will be awhile. Nothing contagious,' she added, to his quizzical look.

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'Nothing. Well, I'm exhausted, it was a long night. Didn't get any sleep,' she said.

'You look all in. Get to bed, and I'll take Brendan out for a meal. You can have some peace and quiet,' he offered.

That was typical of him. Anything for an easy life. Nothing in the house had been done. He couldn't be bothered to cook something, so a stop at a fast food outlet would mean not even having to wash up after pizza delivery.

Maybe she was just taking her hurt out on him.

He'd sent her to their bedroom, out of the way, so as not to be bothered with any emotional details concerning her friend. At least that is how it felt. He hadn't meant how is your friend, it was just the right thing to say. She knew he wouldn't be interested, and didn't tell him anything. Not that she could make up much, so it was just as well.

'Oh! My! God! That fucking boy!' Alicia cried out.

In the shower, she discovered what they had done to her. Afraid of looking, and not having the opportunity to be away from James, she hadn't realised what they had done to her body. In the shower a hand went between her legs to wash her sex. There weren't just two small rings through her lips!

Jumping out she grabbed a hand mirror to look down there, between her legs.

'Oh! Shit! The bastard did this to me!' she cried.

Wiping away tears to take another look, she tried to hold the mirror still. The mirror was steaming up. With finger tips, she carefully examined the rings piercing her labia. It was painful, but she pulled them through the new holes, around and around. The rings were solid, joined up, so they couldn't be removed.

What worried her most was the tiny lock joining the two rings. The boy had locked up her pussy! She could urinate but nothing larger than a slim finger could be pushed between her lips. Her labia were held tightly together! Two eighteen-year-old boys had decided to lock up her sex!

James must have the key, and obviously would hold it to ransom. With the threat of blackmail hanging over her, this additional alarming tactic had her beaten. Should she phone him to find out what he wanted? Wasn't it obvious, he wanted her! The damn boy had taken her, and made her his obedient girlfriend. Worse than that, she was his obedient sex pet.

Even in her own home she was subject to his whims. There must be a way to be free of him. Short of burying him alive in his back yard, anything would be considered. With a mind in a whirl of fear and mental agony, it was impossible to think straight. Sensible, was no longer a word applying to her. Neither were the words, responsible or moral. Alicia felt she was a lost soul, tricked into being sold to the devil.

It was no good going to bed, sleep was impossible. Hearing the boys arrive home, she got up and dressed. Jeans were no good, for her pussy hurt too much in a tight crotch. A simple dress was better. Not wanting to do as she was told at home, the cream was nevertheless applied to her sensitive place.

Having to massage grease into her pussy twice a day, as instructed by James, added insult to the injury. Not daring to take a chance of becoming infected down there, yet again she did as she was told. Obedience was being instilled in her, to become a habit.

***

Sunday morning Alicia was tidying the lounge, clearing up the mess her husband and son had made. They had a good time while she was away, watching sport all Friday evening and yesterday. No sooner had she escaped into the usual routine, the phone rang.

Of course the memories hadn't been lost, or even mislaid. They had been pushed aside for a moment or two. On hearing his voice her heart skipped a beat with fear. Her bully was instructing her, here, in her lounge! Sweat broke out on her forehead, as all that she had done came flooding back to stab her in the gut. The stinging pain in her pussy had gone, leaving a throbbing sensation, almost as though she needed filling.

That was one of his nasty expressions. Pussy, slut, filling, screwing, fucking, cunt, were his words, never before used by her. He called her vagina a cunt, and forced her to use the nasty expression. At one point he called her a cunt. So downtrodden had she become, it was accepted. She was a slut, or anything nasty he cared to call her. That was her, a dirty depraved slut.

'What do you want?' she pointedly asked.

'Just calling to see how your cunt is, Mrs Lucas,' he said, with a sneer in his voice.

'Is that all?' she stated.

'I guess you eventually found the lock. Must have by now, unless you really are a dirty slut,' he laughed.

'I did find it. You must give me the key!' she demanded.

'Everything comes at a price, Mrs Lucas,' he mocked her.

'What is your price?' she asked, becoming so scared of his answer, she shook.

'Meet me at the club on Monday afternoon, two, sharp. It's where we went yesterday,' he added.

'No you must come here,' she quickly responded.

'Do you really want me in your home, unlocking your cunt? Maybe I'll give the key to your husband, with explicit instructions,' he laughed.

He wasn't giving her time to think things through. As usual panic was driving her into making bad decisions.

'Alright! I'll be there,' she caved in.

'Wear a very short skirt, no panties, and a see-through top,' he heavily stated.

'No! I'll wear something I'm comfortable in, my choice, not yours,' she firmly stated.

'No key then. Two sharp!' he said, and the phone went quiet.

No slamming down of an old fashioned phone, just a button press. Not so dramatic, but nevertheless, it was a final statement, and an instruction that must be obeyed. Alicia had over twenty-four hours to worry about what he would put her through.