Day at the Chippy

Note:

This is a fiction-based story and all characters in this story are fictitious. It is about a life of a young man who immigrated to MANCHESTER and how he ended up signing his fate to the hands of various mature women he came across & how he become victim of their abuse and degradation in the bid for obtaining his right to live in MANCHESTER. Content is of Extortion, MATURE, FEMDOM theme. If this is not your cup of tea, then I suggest you do not read further.

The first part of the story has been published separately. This below is the continuation of the first part.

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Day at the chippy

Jimmy took his time recovering from the shock of what Mary had put him through. With the laundry basket in his hands, he moved like a man on autopilot, subconsciously fulfilling his duties. He washed her clothes mechanically, his mind consumed by disbelief. He couldn't wrap his head around what had just happened.

For the rest of the day, Mary left him alone, barely acknowledging his existence as he completed his tasks around the shop. Each time he passed her, Jimmy kept his gaze fixed on the ground, too humiliated and afraid to make eye contact. Mary, however, wore a constant smirk, clearly enjoying his discomfort. On occasion, she deliberately brushed past him, but she didn't utter a word.

As the day wore on, the shop neared closing time. Mary, excited about her plans for the evening, decided to close up an hour early. The whirring sound of the shutters rolling down echoed through the shop. At the back, Jimmy was peeling potatoes for the next day. He heard the shutters but paid little attention. Time had long since lost its meaning for him inside these walls.

The clinking of coins and rustle of notes broke the silence as Mary tallied the cash sales for the day. She was nearly finished when a sharp knock sounded on the shutter, followed by another on the side door that led to the flat upstairs. The voice that called out was definitely familiar--Pat, the widow from next door. Mary smirked and headed to open the door.

Pat was a 57-year-old widow with a fair complexion and ginger hair. She walked with the help of a wooden stick, her movements slow but deliberate.

"Come in, Pat," Mary called out with excitement, her voice practically dripping with energy. She swung open the door, ushering her friend inside. The moment Pat crossed the threshold, Mary swiftly locked the door behind her, ensuring they were alone as whatever Mary wanted to tell Pat begged privacy.

"Mary, I haven't seen that look on you for a long time," Pat said with a smirk, her eyes narrowing as she stepped further into the shop, scanning the familiar surroundings. "What's going on?"

Mary grinned with mischievness in her eyes. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it, Pat. It's been a... VERY interesting day."

Mary began recounting the events of the morning, sharing in vivid detail how she had caught Jimmy red handed sniffing her underwear and manipulated the situation to her advantage by taking pleasure in his vulnerability and forcing him to pleasure her pussy with his nose. She could feel herself getting worked up & feeling moist down below just talking about it, her voice becoming huskier as she recalled the whole scene.

Pat leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "Oh my! Mary you naughty girl! That boy... he doesn't even know what hit him" she said, a chuckle escaping her lips as she spoke.

Mary smirked. "Oh, he'll know and he'll learn his new role." She glanced toward the back of the shop where Jimmy was still busy in the kitchen.

Pat leaned back in her chair, liting up a cigarette and taking a slow drag from it, the smoke curling around her like a cloud. "You've really got him where you want him, haven't you?"

Mary chuckled darkly. "You have no idea." She shot a quick glance toward Jimmy. "In fact, Iet me give you a demo of his obedience."

Without warning, she pointed sharply at the floor near Pat's feet, where a stain had clearly been left unattended and shouted. "Jimmy!" her voice sharp enough to make him flinch. "What is this? Didn't I tell you to clean this up earlier?"

Jimmy immediately froze in the kitchen, his heart pounding in his chest. He had heard Mary's tone too many times to know it wasn't good. Slowly, he made his way into the seating area, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to look either of the women in the eye.

Mary glared at him, her eyes cold. "Do you see that?" she pointed at the floor "Do you see the stain? This should have been cleaned already."

Jimmy nodded quickly, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Mary. I didn't see it."

"Oh, *you didn't see it*?" Mary's said in a mockingly. "That's not good enough. I told you to be thorough, Jimmy. Do you think I'm running some charity for immigrants here? No. Get a scrubbing cloth and clean that mess up. NOW!"

Jimmy's heart sank. He could feel the heat rising in his face as he turned to go back to the kitchen to fetch the cloth. Pat's gaze followed him the whole way, her eyes lingering like a predator watching it's prey.

When Jimmy returned, he knelt in front of the stain, with trembling hands he began to scrub. The humiliation of being watched, of knowing Pat was staring at him with those appraising eyes, was unbearable. He could feel his breath quicken, but he dared not stop or look up.

Pat took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes narrowing as she flicked some ash onto the floor near him purposely.

"Stop," Pat said suddenly, her voice calm but with a sense of authority. She took one final drag from her cigarette before crushing it out in the ashtray, her eyes never leaving Jimmy. "You're not cleaning that up? Why?"

Jimmy's face flushed deeper with shame. He could feel the weight of their gaze on him, like both women were waiting for him to make some mistake.

Mary folded her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "You've got one job, Jimmy. And this is what happens when you can't even do that right."

Pat leaned forward slightly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think he deserves another chance, Mary?"

Mary's eyes burned with frustration. "He *better* learn from this." She shook her head, her voice stern. "You're lucky I don't throw you out on the streets right now. If you had any self-respect, you'd clean every inch of this place properly without me having to remind you at all."

Jimmy's face burned with humiliation as he continued scrubbing, feeling the sting of their words like a whip. Pat's eyes never left him, and one could feel the tension in the room.

Jimmy finally managed to scrub the last of the stains and carefully wiped away the ashes Pat had so carelessly scattered across the floor. His knees ached from the hard tiles, and his hands were trembling from both exertion and humiliation. As he collected his cleaning cloth, ready to retreat to the kitchen, Pat stopped him with a sharp movement.

Her wooden stick slid beneath his chin, forcing his head up. The unexpected action startled Jimmy, and he instinctively froze, his wide eyes meeting Pat's piercing gaze. She tilted her head slightly, her expression a mix of disdain and amusement as she studied him.

"Don't be pissing Mary off any more than she already is, boy," Pat said, her voice low and deliberate, each word cutting through the tense air like a blade. "You know it's in your best interest to keep her happy. Understand?"

Her tone grew harder on the final word as she pressed the stick just enough to emphasize her point, the rough wood grazing his jaw.

Jimmy gulped, his face a portrait of defeat. He felt the weight of her dominance, the unspoken demand for submission. Weakly, he croaked, "Yes, ma'am."

Pat's lips curled into a faint smirk, satisfied with his response. "Good," she said curtly, lowering the stick and leaning back in her chair. She cast a quick glance at Mary, who stood with her arms crossed, clearly enjoying the display.

Mary chuckled softly, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "See, Pat? He's learning. Slowly, but he's learning."

Jimmy quickly lowered his gaze, mumbling another apology as he scrambled to his feet, his body stiff with discomfort. He clutched the cleaning supplies tightly, desperate to escape the room and the oppressive presence of the two women.

"Don't think you're off the hook yet, Jimmy," Mary called after him as he retreated. "There's plenty more to do before you can even think about resting."

Pat chuckled, taking her cane in hand and tapping it lightly against the floor. "You've got quite the little helper here, Mary. Seems like he'll do whatever it takes to stay on your good side."

"Oh, he will," Mary replied confidently. "Because he knows exactly what will happen if he doesn't."

Jimmy disappeared into the kitchen, his heart pounding as their laughter echoed behind him.

Once Jimmy had scurried back into the kitchen, the room fell silent for a moment. Then, as if on cue, Pat and Mary exchanged a knowing glance before bursting into an evil laughter. The sound echoed in the small seating area, their amusement fuelled by the shared satisfaction of having their way with Jimmy.

"Poor boy," Pat said between chuckles, shaking her head. "Doesn't know what hit him, does he?"

Mary smirked, her arms still crossed. "Oh, he know now and the sooner he accepts it the better it is for him." She leaned back slightly, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "He's so easy to control. A few sharp words, and he's practically tripping over himself to please me. It's... satisfying."

Pat exhaled deeply, reaching for her cane. "You've got a good one there, Mary. Submissive, obedient. A bit of a mess, but nothing you can't mould." She glanced toward the kitchen, where faint noises of Jimmy cleaning could still be heard. "I'd love to stick around and see what else you've got planned for him tonight."

Mary raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Oh, you'd enjoy it, no doubt. But..." She let the sentence hang, her voice trailing off as her smirk deepened.

Pat chuckled, tapping her cane lightly against the floor. "But it's your night. I get it." She straightened up, brushing her hands against her skirt. "As much as I'd love to stay and join the fun, you deserve to have this one all to yourself. A little private entertainment, eh?"

Mary's grin widened. "Exactly. It's been a long time since I've been excited for a night with no interruptions. Just me... and my Slave."

Pat nodded approvingly, adjusting her coat. "Well, don't let me keep you. Just promise me you'll share the highlights tomorrow."

"Oh, you'll hear all about it," Mary replied with a wink.

With that, Pat made her way to the door, her cane clicking softly against the tiles as she moved. Mary unlocked it for her, the faint chill of the night air brushing against their faces as she stepped outside.

"Enjoy yourself, Mary," Pat said with a sly smile. "You deserve it."

"Always do," Mary quipped, locking the door behind her as Pat disappeared into the night.

Turning back toward the shop, Mary's expression shifted to one of anticipation. She could hear Jimmy bustling in the kitchen, completely unaware of what she had planned next. She took a moment to Savor the thought, her mind racing with ideas. Tonight was hers, and she was going to make the most of it.

"I'm going for a bath and then to my bedroom," Mary shouted as she climbed the staircase leading to the flat upstairs. Her voice carried a sharp edge of authority. "I want you to finish everything downstairs and come to my bedroom. I need a good, long massage--my feet are tired, and my back is hurting."

Jimmy froze, the cleaning cloth slipping slightly from his hand. His heart began to race as her words sank in. Her bedroom?

It had been a crazy day already. That morning, Mary had taken advantage of a sudden opportunity to assert her dominance in a way Jimmy had never anticipated. He had spent the hours since replaying the humiliating encounter in his mind, unsure of how to process what had happened. Now, her latest order seemed to confirm his worst fears--that this wasn't a one-time and she is anticipating more.

Jimmy's stomach churned. The thought of stepping into Mary's bedroom filled him with unease. It was one thing to obey her commands in the shop, where there was a clear division between work and everything else. But the intimacy of her bedroom--and the task she had demanded--felt like an entirely different level of submission.

Mary disappeared at the top of the stairs, her heels clicking confidently on the wooden floor above. Jimmy stood frozen for a moment, gripping the edge of the counter as he tried to calm his nerves.

Just finish your work, he told himself. Do what she says, and don't give her a reason to get angry again.

He hurried to finish cleaning, his hands moving with mechanical precision as his mind raced. This wasn't the Mary he thought he knew the sharp but professional boss who ran a tight ship. This Mary was different. She was unpredictable, and that unpredictability was scary.

When everything downstairs was finally spotless, Jimmy wiped his hands on his apron, glancing one last time around the shop to make sure he hadn't missed anything. With no excuses left to delay, he made his way toward the staircase.

Each step felt heavier than the last as he climbed, the faint sound of running water coming from the bathroom above. At the top, the hallway was dimly lit, with a soft glow spilling out from the slightly open door of the master bedroom.

Jimmy hesitated outside the door, his heart pounding in his chest. This wasn't just about following orders anymore; it was about navigating the strange, unspoken dynamic that had developed between him and Mary over the course of the day.

He took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the doorframe.

"Come in," Mary's voice called out, calm but with a hint of amusement.

Pushing the door open, Jimmy stepped inside. The room was warm and softly lit, with a large bed dominating the space. Plush pillows and a satin duvet covered it, and a faint scent of lavender lingered in the air.

Mary sat at the edge of the bed, her damp hair falling over her shoulders, wrapped in a silky robe that clung to her plump figure. She exuded a relaxed confidence, her gaze fixed on him with an unreadable expression that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Well," she said, one corner of her mouth curving upward into a smirk. "What are you waiting for? Get over here." Pointing at the floor space Infront of her feet.

Jimmy swallowed hard, nodding as he stepped forward. His nerves were frayed, his every movement hesitant as he approached her. The memory of that morning's encounter flashed in his mind, only adding to the weight of the moment.

"Let's see if you can make yourself useful," Mary added, leaning back slightly as she gestured to her feet.

Jimmy got on his knees at her feet, his hands trembling slightly as he prepared to carry out her latest command.

Mary's gaze didn't leave Jimmy as he approached. Her dark eyes glimmered with a mix of amusement and something far more unsettling something predatory. She reached for a bottle of lotion from the nightstand, tossing it to him without a second thought. The bottle landed awkwardly in his hands, nearly slipping through his nervous grip.

"Get to work," she barked, her voice firm and commanding.

Jimmy flinched at her tone, nodding quickly as he fumbled with the bottle. He squeezed some lotion onto his palm, the cool sensation making his fingers tremble even more. With his free hand, he reached out hesitantly, gently cradling one of Mary's feet.

Her skin was soft and warm under his touch, but the act felt anything but intimate to Jimmy. It was an obligation, a task he had to perform under her watchful, lust-filled gaze. He began rubbing the lotion into her foot with shaking hands, his movements unsure and clumsy at first.

Mary leaned back slightly, reaching for her hairbrush on the nightstand. As Jimmy worked, she began brushing her damp hair, the rhythmic strokes of the brush adding to the strange intimacy of the scene. Her eyes occasionally flicked to Jimmy, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she watched him labour over her feet.

The tension in the room was unbearable.

"Don't be a softy," she muttered, not looking up from her task. "You'll never get the knots out like that. Use some pressure."

"Yes, ma'am," Jimmy mumbled, his voice barely audible. He tried to follow her instructions, pressing harder as he worked the lotion into her skin.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Mary, meanwhile, seemed utterly at ease. She set the brush down after a while and picked up her phone, her fingers scrolling casually through social media or messages. Occasionally, she chuckled softly at something on the screen, entirely ignoring Jimmy's presence except for the occasional comment.

"Don't forget the toes," she said at one point, her tone dismissive.

"Yes, ma'am," Jimmy replied again, his hands moving obediently to tend to her toes as instructed.

After what felt like an eternity, Mary switched feet, and the process started over. The faint hum of the phone and the soft squelch of lotion being worked into her skin were the only sounds in the room.

Mary's satisfaction was evident in the way she reclined further, stretching her arms overhead before returning to her scrolling. The control she exerted over him was intoxicating, her power so absolute that she didn't need to acknowledge his efforts.

By the time half an hour had passed, Jimmy's hands were sore, his back ached, and his nerves were frayed. Yet he didn't dare stop until she said so.

As Jimmy continued rubbing lotion onto Mary's feet, the intimacy of the situation weighed heavily on him. The scent of lavender from the lotion mingled with the faint, warm fragrance of Mary's bath lingering in the air. His hands moved carefully, methodically, as though trying not to disturb the delicate balance between them.

Mary, reclining on the bed with her phone in hand, seemed entirely in control--relaxed, commanding, and entirely unbothered by Jimmy's nervous energy. Her robe shifted slightly as she adjusted her position, revealing the top half of her thighs which was enough to heighten his discomfort, though she seemed to pay it no mind.

"You're improving," she remarked, her voice soft but edged with satisfaction. Her gaze flicked down to him, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. "Maybe you're not as useless as I thought."

Jimmy's face burned with embarrassment, but he didn't dare stop. "Thank you, ma'am," he murmured, focusing intently on his task.

Mary leaned forward suddenly, setting her phone aside. Her movements were deliberate as she propped herself up on her elbows, watching him with a newfound intensity.

"Look at me," she commanded.

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before slowly lifting his gaze to meet hers. The air in the room grew heavier, the silence between them charged with unspoken tension.

"Do you know why I keep you around, Jimmy?" she asked, her tone deceptively casual.

Jimmy swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. "Because... I do what you ask, ma'am?"

Mary chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Partly. But it's more than that." She leaned closer, her smirk deepening. "You're obedient. You understand your place. And that... is rare."

Jimmy's heart raced, his hands pausing briefly before resuming their work. Mary arched her foot and brushing her toe lightly under his chin, forcing him to look at her again.

"Don't forget that, what happened this morning was what I wanted " she said softly, her voice a dangerous whisper.

The room seemed to hum with unspoken tension, thick and heavy in the air. Jimmy's hands shook ever so slightly as he continued massaging Mary's feet, his breath shallow and unsteady under the weight of her gaze. But suddenly, the stillness was shattered when Mary shifted on the bed, her body making a deliberate movement.