Bully Ch. 11

Taken away from her husband

They overslept, catching up on the sleep missed last night. James had dominated her with all his strength and willpower, which overpowered her reticence. Alicia let go her inhibitions and experience several delicious orgasms. For a change they made love to each other, instead of her laying back and letting him use her body.

Alicia wondered if the boy would still say he loved her this morning. He had what he wanted, so she could probably go home now. Her own declaration of love had been a foolish promise inspired by sexual need, and exhaustion. Of course it was silly, all of it, everything here was wrong.

He was only eighteen, a mere boy, so she didn't expect he really loved her, rather, he was just infatuated with an older woman. Of course he liked the idea of controlling an adult, and having sex with her whenever he wanted. Being twice his age meant it couldn't go on like this. He'd trapped, bullied, and blackmailed her into being here, and somehow she had to stop it before disaster struck.

His eyes flickered open, and he reached out for her. The attention was nice, even though it was inappropriate. She was a married woman, with a son his age, yet he expected her to be there for him, pandering to his whims.

'Do you still want me to stay, err, to move in?' she asked, and it took a lot of courage to tempt fate.

'I do, and you promised, so there's no getting around it, or backing out,' he firmly told her.

Damn! She was hoping he'd forgotten all about that stupid idea.

'I'm not sure it's a good idea. I was tired and, you know. We played all night, and I was willing to agree to anything,' she slowly spoke.

'I'm not letting you go. If I have to tie you down, and spoon feed you, I'll do it. I need you, and want to keep you close. The photos and films I had, they're gone, destroyed,' he stated, emphasising the words with a hand pointing at his film and game collection.

'But you're a boy, yes, man enough for me. Leave me alone for a minute, I need to tell you something. I mean, I'm old, and you'll outgrow me, you know what I mean. I'll grow old and wrinkly,' she stated, trying to override his fantasy with some reality. 'You won't want me, you'll abandon me, and where will I go then?'

'I know all that. I've thought it through, and I'll take a chance if you will,' he said, with such a sincere expression, she had to believe it.

'I'd love to stay here with you, but I have a family, and responsibilities. This is, well, just a madness, exiting exhilarating madness, but it must stop. You'll get tired of me being here, and I'll have nowhere to go. You'll just get rid of me, put me in an old people's home,' she nervously laughed.

'Maybe I will. Right now I'm prepared to change your nappies, or whatever they're called. I'll bathe you and pamper you, I promise to look after you. I'll push your wheel chair, how's that?' he challenged.

Alicia laughed, and it wasn't from the tickling and teasing. It was nice of him to say these things, but how could a young guy promise his future away.

'What about my husband and son?' she asked.

'I'll not change their diapers! Your son has gone away to college, and your husband just uses you,' he pointed out.

'Not like you he doesn't! Alright, stop! We need to talk this through,' she complained.

'So you haven't ditched the idea entirely. Try it for a few days, and see what happens,' he said. Seeing her waver he added, 'My father's away for three months. We'll have a trial togetherness, then see how it goes,' he firmly stated.

'Alright,' she quietly agreed, regretting the word as it left her lips.

'Yes!' he shouted, and grabbed her, pulling her over the bed, to kiss, and squeeze her tight.

The boy was so damn persuasive she caved in to his demands. Even when he spoke quietly and reasonably, she found herself complying with what he wanted. It was partly his strong physical presence, as well as having been subject to his bullying for several weeks.

He'd practically trained her to obey! Knowing the boy had brainwashed her didn't help assuage the guilt. As a responsible adult, she shouldn't have allowed herself to be subject to a boy's whims. It was like a drug, he had her addicted to him. When not with him she needed a fix, and was anxiously waiting for his next summons.

Her breath was knocked out of her as the big strong boy manhandled her. He was holding her so tight, she could hardly breath. The conditions and rules couldn't be explained while he smooched her, then began to deeply pet her.

His hands were everywhere! He didn't have to tie her down to have her helpless on his bed. He could pin her down like a delicate butterfly, with just one hand, while molesting her with the other. Yes, he could molester her, as long as he liked! She tried to cross her legs as protection, but he wedged them apart with a muscular leg.

He took advantage of her nakedness in such a delightful way!

As usual she responded to his wonderful enthusiasm and energy. He was also skilled at finding her most sensitive places. It felt different every time they had sex. No! They were making love now!

Oh! Hell! What had she got herself into? An orgasm soon hit, and hit hard. She gave into it, letting it overwhelm her. The emotional upheaval of last night and this morning was mind mending. Was that what he had done to her? Had he brainwashed her into believing she needed to stay with him, to move in, and be his sex slave? All through the weekend he'd kept her awake to soften her up, and told her what to do, making her obey orders.

'Am I to be your permanent, live-in, err, well. You know, kind of a sex slave?' she asked him.

'You are, and you must call me master. You know that, so a punishment is due,' he solemnly spoke.

He playfully spanked her, not reddening her bottom much. Her cheeks merely tingled but she had to play her part, so tried to escape.

'Oww! Stop it, please, don't hurt me, master,' she squealed.

'Ouch! No more, I give in, I'm, your, err, sex slave, master, promise!'

'Ouch! Sorry, master, your sex slave submits and won't forget again, master,' she playfully relented.

He kissed and cuddled her, not prepared to let her go yet.

'I need to get dressed and fetch my things,' she said, sounding as though she was asking for permission.

She did the same at home with her husband, just to keep him happy. Though, she didn't have the fun of playing at being a sex slave at home. It had shocked her at first, to learn that humiliation turned her on. The feelings had become so overwhelming, she gave into him completely when he humiliated her. Knowing this, she still agreed to stay.

'I'll buy you everything you need. We'll go and arrange for a credit card for you. Is there anything personal from home you need?' he asked.

Of course it couldn't really happen, it was just a fantasy. When it came down to it, he would relent and let her go home. Still, she did think about what she needed to bring here, if she moved in. There weren't many personal possessions, which was especially sad after eighteen years of marriage.

***

On the drive to her house, James followed in his car. Alicia was nervous as hell. Her husband was home, and that meant a showdown. At last he would find out what she had been up to. Could she tell him everything, or just hint at what had happened. The boy told her he'd destroyed the evidence, but she figured he was lying, and was just being kind at that moment when they felt so close.

James was shown into the lounge where he waited, looking agitated. Alicia went to her bedroom, looking for something to take with her. Anything personal would do, just to make it look as though she was abiding by his orders. She had agreed to move in with the boy, but how could he expect her to do such a thing.

It was under pressure and from intimidation that she made the promise, so it didn't count. From his den her husband followed her into the bedroom. She couldn't look at him, and continued to pack an overnight bag. She put something useless in the bag and took it out again.

'What's he doing here?' Harold quietly asked.

The expression on his face was a picture of annoyance.

'He's driving me back to his house. I'm going to stay with him for a couple of days, maybe longer,' she said, wanting to provoke her husband into doing something.

Knowing he'd given into the boy's father, agreeing to make sure she visited the boy, made her angry. These men hadn't consulted her, they had agreed between them that she would visit a damn bully! The father knew what she was doing there, and that his son was bullying her into having sex. Her husband thought she was giving the boy therapy. Or did he?

Knowing him well, she realised he would have to be provoked into making a scene. That was the only way he would face up to a confrontation, and she needed him to confront her bully. Here in her home, she was almost free of the boy's influence. It was disconcerting to find he had some influence over her, even in her home.

In the past, the boy came around to the house with her son, behaving himself like a normal schoolboy. Now he was dominating her, treating her like his personal sex slave. It was madness, and the bullying mustn't continue, so she needed her husband to put a stop to it.

'You've been away at a friend's the whole weekend. Now this!' Harold angrily spoke.

'I should have seen the boy at the weekend, so I'm going to make it up to him,' she lied.

'I'm not so sure you should go. I know, I know, I agreed with his father. We agreed you should see to the boy as he is making good progress in school. What are you doing over there? Talking seems so lame. How can that help? He should just get on with it. Life is full of problems, and we all have to cope,' Harold said.

'You tell him, I can't. I promised him I'd be there for him,' she said, and shrugged.

He watched her pack some clothes, and only noticed what she was wearing, when she bent over the bag. His wife wore a pair of red high heels, a short red skirt, with a crop top. He looked her up and down again, with an expression of distaste turning to lust. He cut off the lust, to return to scorn.

'What's this? Where did you get those clothes? They're ridiculous. You're too old to wear that,' he told her.

'My friend gave them to me. My clothes are in the washer,' she lied, though it was somewhat true. 'This was the only thing that fit,' she quickly added.

An overnight bag was packed, so she couldn't prevaricate any longer. Something had to be done, or he would let her leave. Surely the clothes were enough for him to stop her leaving!

'Wait a minute, you can't go to that boy's house wearing those clothes!' he angrily said.

'Oh! I guess not. Well, like, he's already seen me in them, so I guess it's okay. I'll change when I get there,' she sighed, sounding resigned to the inevitable.

They stood in the bedroom, waiting for the other to say something. The tension was a barrier between them, and seemed to have rooted them to the spot. The longer the silence lasted, his anger would subside, and they would both lose the battle, even before it started.

'It's you who want me to go,' she said.

'No I don't! I guess it seems that way. I agreed with his father you should visit the boy. You're doing something for him, apparently,' Harold said.

Was he going to stop her? A confrontation would be hard to take, but it would be worth it to put a stop to this madness. She had to provoke him into it, otherwise he wouldn't do anything. He was quick to anger with her, demanding she do as she was told, but he wouldn't confront others.

'Say hello to him, and you'll see what I mean,' she said, not really explaining anything.

Alicia was torn between wanting her husband to stop the madness, and seeing him defeated by a boy. It would be humiliating for him, and she was angry enough to want to see it in his face.

'Harold this is, James. James, Harold,' Alicia introduced them.

'I'm going with him,' Alicia said. 'Just for a little while. You can cope here while I'm away,' she added.

Her husband didn't like that idea, even if it was for just a couple of days, or so. When James grinned at her, and murmured something, it got to Harold.

'No! She can't go. She's been away the whole weekend, and the house needs cleaning. There's plenty to do around here, washing and cooking, that sort of thing. She can't go, she has chores to take care of,' Harold firmly said.

They were standing in the lounge, with Alicia forming a triangle, equal distance from husband and young lover. She looked from one to the other. The boy didn't look as though he would confront her husband, as even he could understand a long time relationship between adults was meaningful. More meaningful than their crazy tryst.

James took a step toward her, and said, 'She promised!'

Even Harold could see something was going on, something he didn't understand.

They were both looking for her to say something, but how could she. This was her last chance for freedom. Opening her mouth might condemn her to servitude, or freedom, and she didn't know which would be chosen. She didn't know which one of them was a choice for freedom.

Looking at her husband, it struck her that it would be a boring life at home, or a short exciting one with the boy.

'That's life! We make promises that can't be kept. We mean well, but circumstances change,' Harold said, and shrugged his shoulders.

Alicia couldn't help comparing the boy, and her husband's build. James was muscular, and strong, yet he was confronting a man, an adult. It looked as though she was being released from the blackmail, without the pain of revelation. She had got away with it, especially if he really had destroyed the evidence.

Just as she was about to take a stand next to her husband, James said something.

'This promise can't be broken,' James asserted, sounding unsure of himself.

'What's the point? All you do is talk, and what's the good of that?' Harold asked, in a patronising tone of voice, not expecting an answer. 'Men don't talk about problems, they find a solution, or just get on with it.'

'We don't just talk. She's coming with me,' James hesitantly stated.

'What can you do about your, well, what happened, it happened. I'm sorry, but that is it. You need to man up and move on,' Harold firmly and insensitively spoke.

'Alicia helps me, in lots of ways. She's learnt from me too. I've taught her to be adaptable, and accept what I say. I've trained her to be a sexy woman,' he asserted.

Alicia had been looking at her husband when James took a stride to stand close. His strong tone of voice, and his hand gripping her arm, shook her. This was her home, and this boy was declaring he'd trained her for sex! It couldn't be happening in her own home! What did the boy think he was doing?

Harold must do something to save her after that revelation!

'What do you mean? You can't use that sort of language in my home!' Harold said, trying hard to ignore the meaning of the words.

'I'm taking her with me. Tell him what you are, Alicia. Tell him what I've trained you to be,' James ordered.

Harold looked astounded. The words trained and sex, didn't make sense. The word sex had been rejected. The boy was being childish and profane. When they didn't get their own way, his type reverted to bad language.

'She's my wife and isn't going anywhere,' Harold said, sounding outraged.

'Tell him,' James demanded.

The boy's hand griped her shoulder. If she closed her eyes, they could be in his bedroom, playing a game. Instead they were here in her lounge, in what should have been a safe place.

'He's my, err, my, like, err, master,' Alicia quietly said.

The words came out of her mouth as though said by someone else. After being heavily influenced for all those weeks, she'd been programmed to respond. It Just had to be said, she couldn't help it. It wasn't just to provoke Harold into doing something. When the boy was gone, they wouldn't talk for some time, maybe weeks, and never about what went on over there.

'What?' Harold asked, though it was more of a comment. 'What do you mean? Is this some therapy technique?' he said, in an overly loud voice.

'She's my sex slave. Alicia, tell him,' James demanded.

'I'm his sex slave. He uses me in bed, like a sex slave. I'm his obedient sex slave, doing whatever he wants. It might be therapy, only coincidently. It's just sex. I go there whenever he summons me, to be used like a dirty slut,' Alicia flatly spoke.

It had been said. She didn't want to say all that, any of it, but something forced the words from her. It was a confession, an attempt to expunge her sins. Harold just stood there, shocked into silence. He was a man of habit, and order, with something new taking time to sink in.

His homely domesticated wife was a slut? This was totally new, and impossible to take in. The boy was lying, of course he was. This must be some kind of therapy technique she was using to reach him. It wasn't very nice, not one bit. What was he supposed to do? Was the boy dangerous?

'You're too old, and he's too young,' Harold said.

James picked up her bag, and pulled on her arm, guiding her out of the lounge. He was strong, and she was weak. Her knees threatened to give in. They felt like bendy rubber, threatening to go either way, like her mind. Surely her husband wouldn't let her go, not now, not after what she had revealed!

'Come back here!' Harold said, at last moving, if not fully thinking yet.

He followed them to the door. James put a hand to the man's chest, stopping him in the doorway.

'She's mine. My obedient sex slave, just like she said,' James told him.

'She's my wife! You can't just come in here and take her away, to, err, to, do. . .' Harold couldn't continue, his mind kept closing down.

'I'm taking her, get used to it. As you said, that's life, it sucks,' James said, holding Alicia and Harold in place. 'Life sucks, and so does your wife. I've taught her to suck like a vacuum, and lots of other things too,' he said.

'You're just being rude, boy! Alicia come back here!' Harold protested.

Alicia knew her husband had been defeated, and she didn't have the strength to fight her bully. Obviously not physically, but mentally she was drained by the confession. So drained, she had nothing left to fight the bully. It looked as though her promise was being enforced.

'She's my wife, she belongs to me,' Harold said, sounding plaintive.

'I told you, she's my sex slave, that means she belongs to me. Isn't that right slave?' James asked the man's wife, and squeezed her arm.

'Yes, master, I belong to you now,' she quietly spoke, in a matter of fact voice.

It was all the more effective for being said quietly and in an ordinary way. She sounded as though it were normal, and an everyday activity. Taken away from her husband, by a boy, to be his sex slave, was happening!

Harold gaped, with mouth flapping like a landed fish. In these circumstances he was a fish out of water. Unable to fathom what to do, how to react. He was caught between needing to make a scene, and keep it quiet. He was losing his wife to a mere boy. That brute was taking his wife away from him. Something should be done, but what?

He couldn't get past the boy to grab a hold of his wife, otherwise he would physically stop her. She seemed mesmerised, in a dream state, and wasn't taking any notice of him.

He grabbed the boy's shoulder, and shouted, 'She's not a slave, she's my wife!'

James shrugged him off, and pushed Alicia out the door. Harold stood in the doorway watching them leave. He was unable to understand that this could happen, and was happening. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this outrage. A tornado he could prepare for and go through a well documented procedure.