Mrs. Hart's Ache

This is the twenty-third installment of

Mrs. Hart’s Ache

Chapter XIV Operation Mama: let the games begin

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Author’s note: see the Index of Terms for the definition of any word with which you are not familiar.

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This is a simple tale of retribution, wherein the young hero teaches the mother of his newest girlfriend a few manners while enjoying a few adventures – sexual and otherwise – along the way.

James Mark Masterson.

Just your typical teenager. Smart… sexy… sophisticated… and always horny. With the time and bank to do pretty much what he wants to do.

And to do who he wants to do.

Missy and Miriam are off on their summer adventures. Now comes the time for which James has been waiting…

Anticipating…

Plan One: Operation Mama is a go.

James has one hundred days in which to teach Veronica Hart some manners.

He’s eager to start and Veronica gives him his opening. It’s so easy when the lady is a bitch.

Follow along as Mrs Hart learns the true definition of the words Dominant, Submission…

…and Retribution.

Happy Reading.

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XIV Operation Mama: let the games begin

‘…it was way past time for a little R&R.

That’s Revenge and Retribution, by the way.…’

Veronica Hart does so like to be spanked. She just hates it when it is me doing the spanking.

Makes her wet though.

Ten days later, I was at the airport again. That time I was in the British Airways First Class Lounge to see Missy and Miriam off. They were flying together direct to Heathrow before separating: Missy to the museum in Firenza and Miriam to her relatives in Tralee.

Missy gave me a toe-curling kiss and told me to have a great Summer. Miriam gave me an affectionate hug, with a whispered warning to remember our deal. She winked when she pulled back. There was that Irish twinkle in her eye again.

Time out.

Miriam had promised to break my arm if I hurt her baby. See Chapter two. Miriam was telling me to mind my P’s & Q’s. Oh she would be so not happy if she knew what I had planned.

Oh well. Boinking the bejezus out of Missy’s mother – Miriam’s employer – all summer long was worth a broken arm. Maybe even two. Mr Snake was ready for it.

Time in.

Missy and Miriam both appreciated the effort on my part to see them off, but then would: they liked me. Mrs Hart did not. She was there too, of course. I think Mr Hart was in Tokyo that week, though apparently he had plans to spend a couple of days in Florence with Missy later that summer.

Her mother and I watched Missy and Miriam go through security, then with a last wave, disappear into the crowd arm-in-arm, moving towards their gate. Mrs Hart turned to me with a smug look.

“Well ‘

Jimmy

’…” (Missy must have mentioned how much I dislike that diminutive) “…with my daughter half a world away at least I don’t have to be concerned with you for the next three months, possibly forever. With luck, by September when she returns she will have lost her infatuation with you. Now, if you don’t mind, I have much more important things to do than stand here conversing with you: I have meeting scheduled.”

My return smile was guileless. “Yes Veronica…”

Her face darkened. She did so not like me, a mere pleb, using her first name; daring to be so familiar.

“…I’m certain that urgent meeting of yours is important. But it wouldn’t happen to be at the townhouse, would it? I fear that your boytoy Marco is indisposed this afternoon. Actually, he is indisposed for the next, well, for the next forever. I believe that, whether you know it or not, you’re in the market for a new playmate; a new ‘top’”

Astonishment. Veronica’s eyes widened at the mention of the townhouse. Her face went pale beneath her makeup when I said Marco’s name. She sat down abruptly when she heard ‘top’. I took the seat next to her.

Stunned, Veronica merely watched as I pulled a jewel case from my jacket and held it up. A disc was visible through the plastic case.

“This contains a few outtakes from a couple of your recent ‘meetings’ with that putz. At some point, I plan to tell you how I happen to have the recordings in my possession. Until then, you will just have to trust that I control all of them.”

I took her unresisting hand. “Now you were saying something about the next three months. I hate to contradict you, but I fear that we will be seeing a lot of each other over the summer. Despite what I think of you, I’m not one to leave a lady bereft. Now why don’t we adjourn to a more private setting, say, the townhouse. You are looking a might pale. A strong drink would do you good ‘

Ronnie

’.”

Despite her shock of my pronouncement, Veronica flushed. Rage flashed in her eyes. She snatched her hand away. “Do not call me that you – .”

“Tut tut, my dear

Mrs Hart

,” I interrupted unctuously, waving the disc. “Mind your manners. You do

not

want to anger me more than I am already.”

My gaze hardened along with my voice.

“You’ve been a major pain in my ass since the day we met. I put up with it because you are Missy’s mother. At that point in our relationship, you were free to take any shot at me personally any time you cared to do so. That’s okay. I’ve got broad shoulders. You’re her mother. You have the right to disapprove of your daughter’s friends if you so choose.”

I let some of my rage spill into my eyes. Finally concerned and probably a bit frightened, Veronica looked around, relieved I think because of the other people there. But her eyes were drawn back to the jewel case and the disc it contained.

“As far as I’m concerned, you no longer have the right to take shots at anyone. When you insulted mom, you crossed the line. For that you will pay, and pay dearly.”

Uncertainty shaded her light grey eyes. I took her hand again and pulled her to her feet. She didn’t like it, but she also didn’t pull her hand away. I folded her arm through mine, then led her toward the exit.

“Now you are going to do exactly as I say, or discs like this will find their way to all manner of places. I have a few things to explain to you. That will take some time. I believe that you would rather hear these things in a more private setting. If that is not true, I’m prepared to begin here and now. Choose.”

An hour later we were in the townhouse.

It turned out that she did indeed have a senior staff meeting scheduled at the magazine, but called in to cancel. Despite her demeanor, I knew she was desperate to hear what I had to say.

At my ‘suggestion’, Veronica dismissed Adams, her chauffeur and rode with me in the Miata. The top was down, making conversation difficult, but I think she preferred to remain silent anyway. Questions were stacking up behind her eyes, but she kept her cool. Tough broad.

I played some Billy Holiday for her, but I don’t think she appreciated the effort.

I let her proceed me into the townhouse. She used her key. I carried my laptop. Once the door closed, she made directly for the bar to fashion herself a Stoly Elit on the rocks in a crystal tumbler the size of a beaker. She flipped her glasses back, nestled in her hair, then began asking questions and demanding answers while she poured. I ignored her to boot the laptop and load the disc. She sat down abruptly when the first scene flashed on the screen.

While ‘Veronica’s Greatest Hits’ played, I poured myself a Guinness and went into the bedroom. I left her sitting at the bar, stricken, watching the screen with her fingers pressed to her face. I had started the show with a scene of her sucking Marco’s cock while diddling herself.

Then there was a scene featuring her stretched over the back of a chair naked begging to be whipped. The third showed her tied to the bed, arms outstretched, and her ankles secured to either side of her head. Marco knelt there, then abruptly plugged her ass with his erect cock while she whimpered. There were a couple more.

While she watched, she was taking long pulls at the Stolichnaya. By the time she caught up with me, I had finished the Guinness. I sat in a comfortable club chair facing the doorway stroking my chin with an index finger.

The concealed door to her ‘toys’ was open behind my back. A riding crop, a rattan cane and a leather paddle lay fanned across the bed beside.

Knees suddenly weak, her eyes uncertain, Veronica grasped the doorframe for support. I locked eyes with her, then slowly flipped my hand to point to the floor at my feet.

Time out.

Cool, calm, collected. Directing dispassionately without histrionics or emotion: my entire presentation was one of dominance, as though there was no question that I expected to be obeyed.

Between you and me, I don’t think Mrs Hart had ever met a true Dom. But there was no doubt that she recognized one when she saw the real thing.

Confidence, my man, confidence. You don’t need to be loud, insulting or overbearing. Understated confidence is the key.

Time in.

Veronica’s face flamed, but her eyes never left mine. Her eyes hardened. Mine were blank: cops eyes. You could almost feel the clash of wills as we stared at one another. No words were spoken; none were needed. There was no sound but for the whisper of the air conditioning kicking in. After an age, she blinked. I’d won.

I gestured to the floor again. Veronica released her hold, lurched, then drew herself together, shoulders back and head high. She bent to place her tumbler on the bedstand. With unconscious grace, she stalked forward slowly to stand upon the spot indicated. She looked down upon me with unforgiving eyes. Her color was still high.

I let her have her moment, then motioned down. With all the aplomb she could muster, she slowly dipped to her knees before me. I gestured again, waving her forward.

Revulsion flashed in her eyes before anger returned. The spots on her cheeks bloomed again, but she walked forward on her knees until she knelt between my legs. There she sat back on her heels and looked up to me. Her nostrils flared with each shallow breath. Her lips were drawn to a thin line. Her face had paled with a lingering blush as high point upon her cheeks.

Mrs Hart was wearing yet another designer dress that day, a simple halter jersey of patterned silk that cost more than a months pay for most people. Large flowers bloomed across the fabric. The halter left bare her shoulders and the deep vee of her décolletage.

Her breath caught; her eyes grew wide – wild – as I reached to the nape of her neck to unfasten the halter. She moved to block me, but I caught her hands in mine. She struggled against my grip for a moment, then slowly ceased. When she was still again, I pulled her arms down to her sides. I held them there for an instant, then reached to the halter again. All the while we’d silently stared into each other’s eyes.

Her breathing quickened, but she made no further move to stop me, even as the neckline parted and I let the bodice fall from her chest.

Veronica Hart favors designer clothing. I think I’ve made that clear. Her lingerie is no different. That day she wore a rather risqué silk balconet halter bra with the fastener set between her full breasts. The three-quarter cups were semi-sheer black lace. The lace cradled her full breasts, holding each up and out as though in offering to me. Caught in the emotion of the moment, her nipples were coral gumdrops embossing the cups.

Her blush deepened across her cheeks, then filtered down to the tops of her breasts: Veronica was humiliated, and she was

hating

it.

To complete her humiliation, I reached to her right breast. Her breath caught again as I unhooked the halter strap. Her eyes were blazing; her anger palpable, as I opened the fastener set between her breasts, then let the bra fall behind.

Very nice chochos Veronica!

Full, pear-shaped, immaculate; her D-cup breasts sat high on her chest. Each was capped with a silver-dollar-sized areola that protruded upwards from the white flesh. Her berry-brown nipples stood out, crinkled to fat points as though offering themselves to my lips. Tanlines curved up and across each, just above her areolae. Mrs Hart’s naked breasts quivered, bobbing slightly with each panting breath.

She made no move to cover herself, rather her shoulders flicked back, raising her chest to display her balangas proudly.

My expression never changed. Cool and detached, I looked into her eyes as I cupped her lovlies and gently thumbed those incredible nipples. Mrs Hart was

hating

that.

“If you ever again move to stop me from touching you, I will secure your wrists, then whip you.” I affirmed quietly. “Do you understand, Mrs Hart?”

Her blush deepened. Her eyes were daggers. “You will do no such thi-!“

To her utter amazement, I reached out to flick the tips of my fingers across her cheek. I’d bet my college fund that was the first time Veronica had been slapped since she was a child. At that moment, she was too dumfounded to be angry. Absently, she reached to rub the sting from her cheek.

“Yes. I will.” I said in an even voice. “You will obey me. You can imagine the consequences if you do not.”

All sorts of horror and fear flashed through her eyes. The slap was forgotten. The disc. The discs! Where were they; what was on them; how had I gotten them; what had I seen; what would I do with them. Her imagination was vivid. In the end, doubt lingered. Lingered. Finally died. Acquiescence and surrender remained.

“I have a series of rules for you,” I informed her coolly. “I will lay them out for you soon, but first you have a task to perform. Then, I have one. We will get to each in turn. Yours begins now.” I gestured down.

“Your breasts are bare, you are kneeling before me. It is time to atone for your actions against me and mine.”

I gestured again. “Suck my cock Mrs Hart.”

Rage flashed again, through tears welling, then something new, something buried quickly lest I see. She was desperate that I not know.

Too late Veronica. I know your dirty little secret, Mrs Hart. You want this; you need this; you’ve prayed for this: Surrender and Submission. I am your most depraved dream.

Little do you know where I will lead, but you will follow, won’t you Veronica. Not for my pleasure. Not because of my threats. But because you must. It is your drug. You are addicted. I will be your source; your new pusher.

You just hate that it is me providing it for you, don’t you my dear Mrs Hart.

She read the truth in my eyes.

Her gaze dropped to my lap. Tears glistened on her lashes, but none fell. She wouldn’t let me see her cry. She knelt there, sitting on her heels with her arms at her sides for a moment more, then reached to my waist to unbuckle my belt.

The buckle tinkled faintly. The zipper was loud in the silence of the room. She glanced at my face a last time, then opened my jeans.

I’d omitted boxers that day, anticipating exactly the scene as portrayed. The tails of my shirt covered my groin. Veronica swept them to either side, then swayed back in shock. I caught her arms to draw her near again.

Mr Snake stood tall before her wide eyes, straining against my belly. Instant menace with a bulbous crown peeking from beneath his foreskin. A drop of seminal fluid pooled at the slit. Surely more meat than Mrs Hart ever had seen in one serving.

I combed my fingers through the long auburn hair framing her face to either side, then gently urged her head forward and down until her soft lips met the bursting head of my dick in an obscene kiss. Her naked breasts pressed against my thighs.

Veronica’s eyes closed. Her tongue slipped out to taste me for the first time. The clear fluid from my cock smeared along her upper lip. With no further urging, her mouth opened wide. An instant before she took me inside, I spoke.

“Look at me, Mrs Hart.” I demanded softly. “I want to see your eyes as you suck the sperm from my cock. Then you will swallow all of it. Miss one drop and you will be punished”

Her eyes flickered up to peer from beneath her brow. An unconscious shudder ran through her frame. Her naked breasts quivered. If I’d touched her pussy at that moment, I knew I’d find her clit engorged; her nether lips slippery wet.

Veronica reached up to capture my shaft in her soft hands. A whimper etched from her throat as she pressed the bursting head through her lips and into the moist warmth of her mouth.

I held her head loosely as she sucked at the glans. Her agile tongue dipped and played, teasing my foreskin down from the head. Suddenly aggressive, Veronica gave me everything she had. Her head bobbed as she worked my cock. We both knew that if she was destined to lose, she was going down in style.

I have to say, that afternoon in the townhouse, Veronica Hart gave me the absolute best blowjob of my life.

Her tongue and lips – even her teeth – were everywhere: licking and kissing and nibbling. Taking me to the edge, then back again, her head bobbing as she sucked. She worked me like that for at least a half hour, not once using her hands other than to hold and direct. No pumping allowed: her rule, not mine.

She sucked at my scrotum, leaving lipstick butterflies over my sac. She took my nuts each into the warmth of her mouth, gently teasing my testicles with her agile tongue. She licked the throbbing shaft, and nibbled at the crown. Her tongue teased, feathering lightly, demanding with broad strokes or tapering to a sharp point to delve into the slit tasting.

It took her effort, some time and infinite patience, but she finally managed to swallow my cock and massage the shaft with the muscles of her throat. All without once gagging. Her willpower over that natural response was incredible.

All the while our eyes remained locked: battling again. If anything, the look in her eyes made the whole experience that much more exciting: anger and need warred there.

With her lips pulling at the base of my cock, her tongue slithering along the shaft and her fingertips teasing beneath my nuts, I finally lost it.

With a guttural roar, I pulled her head tight to my groin, driving my dick deep into her throat. I shuddered helplessly as the cum erupted from my nuts. Five or more times my shaft pulsed against the walls of her throat as I shot ropes of sperm down her gullet.

She won that round. My eyes broke contact with hers as they rolled back in my head. I held her head tightly as the last dribbles spewed forth. I clutched her head for an instant more straining. When the last of the wave passed through, I slowly loosened my grip, finally allowing her to pull back.

My cock slipped from her throat, but she must have believed my promise. She gasped a couple of times, drawing breath into her tortured lungs, then began licking the remnants of my spend from Mr Snake’s wilting shaft. She didn’t miss a drop. When Mr Snake was clean and glistening with her saliva, she sat back on her heels and swallowed ostentatiously.

I’m almost sure that she didn’t like it, but she wasn’t about to let me know for certain. For me, the most telling clue was that she’d never once swallowed Marco’s spend unless she was forced. If he forgot to order it, invariably she spit it out.

Veronica Hart gives stupendous head. Without a doubt, the best I’ve ever had. I’ll never know whether it would have been better if she liked me, or I got the best she had just because she hated me so and wanted me to know what I’d be missing when she was gone.

It took me a couple of minutes to recover. She sat there on her heels watching, her hands in her lap. That her breasts were still bare didn’t seem to bother her. A soft smile played upon her lips belying the steel in her gaze.

Oh well

. I thought.

Time for the next lesson

.

I gestured toward the bed.