A week passed. Then another, both nearly identical. Nancy went to work and came home. On the Tuesdays and Thursdays when she would see Mr. Hoyden, it was the same every time. She would arrive fully intending to drop off or pick up and promptly leave. Then he would invite her inside and she would follow him into the foray, drift along behind him without another thought. Then he would look at her and wait for her to remove her top. She had worn a bra the first two times back, driven madly by pride to disobey him, perhaps in hopes that he would grow frustrated with her and leave her be. It had resulted in another spanking, this time longer. He had then made her stand in the corner for nearly a half hour with her pants and panties around her ankles.
He sat on the sofa drinking his brandy and watching the news. She had faced the wall, her red ass on display, her wrists locked behind her back at his command. She had cried of course, tears of shame and anger. Then he'd come and retrieved her, pulled her into his lap and stroked her thighs, her clothes still pooled around her ankles, her breasts pressed against his shirt front. She decided it was the worst when he comforted her after a spanking. It was worse than the spanking or the corner. She sometimes thought the anger might be enough to break her free from what had begun to feel like a spell. But she wouldn't move, wouldn't protest. She would only sit rigidly, baring the repulsive feeling of his hands on her thighs, bare the feeling of helplessness and worst of all, the arousal.
Then there were the talks. Minutes seemed to turn to hours as she would hear herself telling him things, telling him everything. These were some of the most surreal moments, as they simply sat in his living room talking as two normal people; only one of them was half naked and freshly spanked. The whole thing repeated the next time, Nancy having again chosen to not wear a bra. That time, he had taken her out into his backyard. It was a lovely arrangement, with a pool and a nice garden with an electric fire pit, bar, tables and chairs. He pulled one of the chairs close to the pool, pulled her over his knee and spanked her there. She knew the sound of his hand slapping her ass and the noises she made were obvious indication to any listeners of what was going on. Then her corner time had been spent standing with her nose to one of the posts of the pavilion, on display to any neighbor who might peak through the fence. She never knew if anyone saw her.
She had been smoking less and less and hadn't noticed until the following weekend. One, maybe two a day. She had only been doing it for the last three years, and as much as she despised Mr. Hoyden, it was not a suggestion she was going to resist.
She made plans with Sam. On Saturday he took her to an Irish festival. He bought her a Celtic ring and they kissed under a gazebo covered in bougainvillea. Then they'd taken a walk in her neighborhood. Across the street from her condo was an orange orchard and they strolled through it as the sun was going down. She wanted to tell him about what was happening to her. She felt this odd sense of infidelity but didn't know to whom. Back inside, they made dinner together, and while watching a movie, they started making out. He put his hands under her shirt and she let him. Some part of her wanted Sam to touch her everywhere Mr. Hoyden had, as though it would un-claim her or wash him away. All it did was to make her feel cheap.
Since it had started nearly a month before, she had not been able to reach orgasm. Or rather, by her assumption, she had not been allowed to. At the same time, she was furiously horny all of the time. It was a cruel game he was playing with her, one she began to believe she couldn't win.
The following week came and went and was nearly identical to the week before, only she finally gave in and didn't wear a bra. This had resulted of course in a visit without a spanking. It was replaced by additional conversation. Always, of course, naked from the waist up. On Thursday, he had pulled her into his lap and tucked her hair behind her ear, pulled her chin up with two fingers , looking deep into her eyes.
"Nancy, I'm very proud of you," he'd said. She bristled, and at once, a hot pulse made her pussy quiver.
"I know this has been a difficult adjustment, and you have a long way to go. But I'm very glad to see that you've chosen obedience over pride, this week. I want to do something for you in return." He held her fast with one arm around her and tipped her head backwards gently with a hand, until she was sitting in his lap like a limp doll in his arms, her head lolled backwards, her breasts jutting out toward him.
"Just relax, baby. That's good. Just breath. Last week we established that disobedience results in discipline. Today, we establish that obedience is rewarded. But I want you to know that today your reward is more like a prerequisite to a reward. It will indicate what I can do for you if you continue to be a good girl." He had been stroking her stomach while he spoke and then his hand came up to stroke the side of one of her breasts. She inhaled sharply and started to raise her arm but he shushed her, and as always, it had a sort of stupefying effect on her. She whimpered, but returned to her limp state, as he continued stroking her breasts with the lightest touch. After a few minutes, he took one of her nipples and gently rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. A sigh escaped her and her thighs squeezed together. He pulled and tugged on it from time to time, and then moved to the other. After about ten agonizing minutes of revolting pleasure, he stopped, and lifted her back up straight. Her breathing was labored and her face and chest were red.
"Nancy, Nancy," he murmured, giving her chin a pinch. "Tell the truth now. Did that feel good, little pet?"
"Yes, Sir," she breathed, her eyes filled with anger and arousal. He hummed and leaned forward, kissing her lips softly.
"Nancy, now that you've shown me what a good girl you're ready to be, I need to ask you to do something, okay?" He asked, tilting his head with that smug expression on his face, a sort of gentle smile at the corner of his mouth. He glanced down at her breasts and took one of her nipples back into his hand and pulled and rolled it as he continued.
"This weekend I want you to break up with Sam. I am the only man to touch you, do you understand?"
Nancy gritted her teeth and her mouth opened.
"Bu...but-"
"Ah, ah. Nancy, what did we say?"
"No 'buts'," she recited, and he nodded, rolling her nipple more firmly and she moaned.
"That's right. Now let's try again, and I want to hear the appropriate answer to a question. This weekend you will break up with Sam, do you understand me young lady?"
Nancy clenched her teeth and made an odd sound between a growl and a whimper. "Yes, Sir."
"There's my good girl," he said, giving her other nipple a light pinch, before helping her to her feet.
At the door, after she'd put her top back on, Mr. Hoyden put a hand against the doorframe and smiled at her.
"Nancy, I think a part of you is very curious about how good I could make you feel. All you have to do to find out is mind me, and keep that attitude in check. Do you think you can do that for me, baby?"
"Yes, Sir," she said gloomily.
"Try that again without the attitude, Nancy. Now, or I will spank that bottom on my front lawn."
"Yes, Sir," she said quickly, and he nodded his approval.
"Good girl. Off you go. Have a good weekend, Nancy," he said, and she ran back to her van.
A good weekend. Sick fuck,
she thought. Had she agreed to break up with her boyfriend for Mr. Hoyden? Besides the obvious sexual things he was getting out of this, it was the first request he'd made of her that was just really wrong. It wasn't even really because she loved Sam, because she didn't. But he was the only thing these days that made her life seem remotely normal, and he was taking it away from her so that he could play with her tits without any competition. She had reached new levels of resentment. Now, especially way from him as she drove home, she actually wanted to do harm to Mr. Hoyden. She imagined having him tied up with his legs spread and kicking him in the balls over and over again until he was crying and begging for mercy. She wanted to see him suffer. She wanted him to touch her pussy.
Noooo!
A voice interrupted her train of thought.
"That's not real," she said through clenched teeth, glancing at herself in the rear view mirror. She pulled into her garage and sat waiting for the door to close. It was quiet then, and she felt blessedly alone.
That's only his control over me, I would never want that man to put his hands anywhere near my pussy. It's not real, it's not real...right?
~
On Saturday afternoon, Nancy finally dragged herself out of the house to go the grocery store. She threw on a simple skirt and t-shirt, slipped on her sandals and headed to Tom Thumb. She wanted to get in and out quickly, feeling rather anti social. All she had been wanting to do was try to get off or distract herself from wanting to get off by studying hypnosis. And anything to avoid breaking up with Sam. She was afraid to know what he would do if she failed to do it. And he always knew if she lied.
Nancy drifted through the produce section, finding she circled two and a half times before finding everything she needed. She was beginning to seriously tire of the distraction between her legs. She pushed her cart past the dairy aisle when a familiar voice made her stop.
