Jane is Trained to Submit Ch. 03

'Nice. You're breasts look so nice and soft in the corset,' he commented.

There was neither a leer on his face, nor condemnation in his tone of voice. It was merely an observation. It left her feeling all the more like a mere toy, playing dress-up. It was both frustrating and galling, from being turned on while he casually played with her. He said she was a beautiful woman, either completely naked, or dressed sexily for his benefit. Yet he seemed indifferent to her charms.

In a momentary loss of control, she raised her shoulders to push her breasts out at him. Was the movement designed to provoke him, and disturb this maddening indifference to her as a person? Feeling shameful, there was no denying it was to gain his attention. The conceited young man was working her up, and treating her like a plaything. It was galling to think she was there for his amusement. It wouldn't have been so bad if she had to fend him off. It would improve her self-esteem, and resisting him would be a clear moral stance.

'I guess you'll need a pair of panties to go out to a club,'' he smiled.

She felt too awful to respond to the weak joke. She sighed heavily, wobbling the corset held breasts. He offered up a pair of panties, then remembered she couldn't bend to put them on. She felt helpless in the corset. Though the physical control was less than the mental control she was under between the two of them. Her sense of decency was completely out of control. It was as though her moral restraint had been handed over to Margaret, and now him. She was leaving them to decide her standard of behaviour, and that was indecently low.

Feeling his hands pulling the panties up her legs, manoeuvring them up her thighs, with his fingers brushing her most private place, was thrilling. A knuckle brushed over her wet lips when he adjusted the gusset. An intake of breath, with eyes firmly shutting, revealed a high state of sensitivity.

The panties were sheer enough to show her cheeks. In front there was enough decoration to hide her pussy, though not all the wisps of blond hair. What kind of club would allow entry, dressed like this? It was possible to travel there wearing a coat, but once inside, what then?

'Stand with legs apart,' he ordered.

For a moment she thought it a reprimand, because she had been caught squeezing her thighs together. Unconsciously she had been rubbing them together for some small relief. Her face burned as though on fire, from being caught performing such a lascivious act. He was a neighbours son, she reminded herself. It did no good. She was heated up, and there was no relief in sight.

She glanced at his crotch, but there was no telltale sign that he was interested in her naked body. To the contrary, he was decorating her, yet still she wasn't good enough.

With feet apart, she bent her knees. It was then she observed in the mirror what he meant. The panties were split at the crotch. There was no gusset in them! Just a gaping hole revealing her wet lips. She slapped her thighs together, disgusted with herself for so lewd a display.

'You'll have to remember to keep your legs together,' he unkindly laughed. 'A bit of a problem for you, I heard the other night,' he sarcastically added.

She wondered what he meant. It took a moment or two, to connect the harsh remark with last night. The thought slammed her belly like a punch, knocking the wind from her. Was it only a few hours ago that she was in bed with a stranger? Mark had heard her wanton session with that businessman! Surely he wasn't jealous. Was he trying to tease and punish her for last nights' immoral act?

A shock of guilt spread throughout her body, like a tidal wave. It didn't cleanse her, it just brought to the surface the debris of her life. All the bad things she had ever thought and done, flew through her mind.

'I'm sorry, Sir,' Jane mumbled.

She wasn't apologizing to him, or for last nights' debauchery. She was apologizing for all the mistakes she had made in her life. She felt utterly flat, without a shred of self-worth. It shouldn't have been like that, but all the stupid mistakes over the last days had suddenly caught up, and swamped her mind.

'I shouldn't be here, like this. I shouldn't be here at all. I must go home. Please let me go. I'm trapped between you and your mother, doing terrible things. I can't think straight here. Haven't I been punished enough?' she complained.

'Are you blaming me and my mother for your mistakes? More like lewd and dishonest behaviour! It's your decision. Go on, get out!' he shouted at her.

She reached for the door, wanting to be free. Needing to escape the madness that had overcome her. At the front door she was confronted by a full length mirror.

'Oh! God!' she gasped.

It would be impossible to walk down the street with everything on show. As far as she was concerned her good standing could be shattered, but she had Louise to think about. It might have been an excuse for avoiding the shame over her bad behaviour. Nevertheless, it was true, her daughter would suffer.

With head bowed she returned to her room. Mark was putting away the pile of clothes. He was better at it than her daughter, as he folded everything neatly, whereas she tended to drop everything on the floor.

'Sorry. Can we start again?' she timidly asked.

'It's up to you. You're the one, well, you know. No need to go on about it,' he shrugged.

'I should do that,' she offered.

'OK. I'm going to the office. Bring me coffee, maid,' he said.

He sounded less harsh, more understanding. Maybe she had won him round after all.

'Yes, Sir,' Jane diffidently answered. There was still a long way to go before she recovered her self-esteem.

In the office she carefully placed a coffee mug on a coaster. She stood waiting for him to take notice of her. She wanted to gain his friendship, so that he would treat her right.

'What are you doing?' she asked, feigning interest.

'Just figures. I'd rather do this to help mom, than go to university,' he said.

She thought he sounded like a normal teenager at last. 'I didn't get a chance to go, and miss the opportunity. It's not all work, it can be fun too, with people of your own age, sharing things,' she said, not sure where to go with the advice.

'Why didn't you go?' he asked.

She could see he was looking for a reason not to go. 'I had Louise,' she wanly smiled.

'You must have been ever so young,' he stated.

'Thank you for the compliment,' she smiled.

'I was too young. It shaped the rest of my life. Don't get any ideas about getting out of going to college, by becoming pregnant,' she warned.

He was about to scold her for talking to him as though he were a kid, then burst out laughing.

'I don't mind trying,' he smirked. It was a pleasant chiding kind of expression compared to his usual disdainful look.

'Would you rather do that, than go to university? It looks complicated,' she said.

'I'm good at figures. She says I get it from Dad,' he quietly spoke. 'What have you done, since not going to college?' he asked.

'I've been a housewife, looking after a family,' she told him.

'An experienced maid then,' he pointed out, with a wry grin.

'I've often thought so,' she smiled. 'Did your father go?' she asked, keen on changing the subject.

'Business school. Not that it did him much good. He broke the business, then ran off with his secretary. Mom worked hard to rebuild it, while bringing me up. She built the business by regaining a reputation my father lost,' he said.

There was a look of admiration on his face that Jane found understandable. 'She's a strong woman,' Jane said, trying not to sound bitter.

'She's tough because she had to be,' he retorted.

'Yes, it's a tough world out there,' she said, sounding as though she wanted to add, 'in here too'.

'I thought women were supposed to stick together, and help each other. You made it tougher for her,' he accused her.

'Me? What did I do?' she asked, with surprise raising her voice.

'You nearly broke the business. She had to lay off two staff. She hated that. Don't you realise what you did? You blocked planning permission for that new development,' he angrily growled at her.

She wanted to protest, but the words were lost as he grabbed an arm. With flailing of limbs, she was trying not to fall. It was bewildering to find herself looking at the carpet, stretched over his knees He had a heavy hand on her back, pinning her across his lap. Gasping for breath in the tight corset, she stopped struggling.

'Keep still,' he ordered unnecessarily.

She knew why he was angry, and in his mind it was well deserved. His mother had given him permission to punish her, so there was nothing stopping him.

Jane gasped on feeling and hearing a swat to her bare bottom. The smack was loud and stinging.

'Please, Sir,' she yelped.

Calling him 'Sir', had been an automatic response. Her mind was in a whirl of confusion. How could she be in this position? It wasn't right being pulled over Margaret's son's lap, and spanked! It wasn't right, but it was happening. She was being punished for something she did to his mother some time ago. She vaguely remembered it, but now she was suffering for it.

'Please, Sir, please don't hurt me,' she whined. He wasn't hurting anything but her pride.

'I'll hurt you if you don't lie still,' he demanded, and whacked a cheek with the flat of his hand. The sting was less than the cracking sound suggested. Once over his lap the anger faltered, with the first slap extinguishing it. His mother had told him to find an excuse to punish her, and this he was doing.

The fifth slap demanded another to even up the strokes to each cheek. Her ass was a little red, though not sore looking. Ignorance of the consequences, of what to her had been a casual decision, angered him. He hadn't the vindictiveness left, after so many months, to really hurt her.

Mark figured his mother was getting back at the woman, because of that incident. There was more though. There something wrong with the woman to be suffering this nasty treatment. When he visited her daughter she hadn't been very friendly, but never rude. He thought she was just another stuck up bitch, typical of the women living in the neighbourhood.

Feeling her begin to squirm again, he warned her, 'Hold still bitch! I'm thinking about what to do with you,' he calmly stated.

It was appalling suffering this indignity. She just wanted to slide off his lap, and run away, though not in those heels. She was prepared to humble herself by crawling away on hands and knees, as soon as she was free of this disgraceful position. She was ready to beg him to let her go if necessary. She felt another slap to her upturned bottom, and went limp over his lap.

'Spread your thighs,' he told her.

Another slap had her obeying the lewd demand. Knowing this callous young man had a close up view of her private place was awful.

'I thought so. You're wet!' he stated, while marvelling at the sight of a pair of engorged lips. With little experience, he found it fascinating to watch them flower.

Now he mentioned it, she became aware of an arousal, and felt full of shame. She quickly clamped her thighs together, but forced them apart when he slapped her bottom hard. The disgrace of him seeing her sex was heaped upon the shame of being wet down there. How could she be so vile as to be stimulated from a spanking?

'Please, Sir, let me cover myself, please!' she begged.

'I want to watch. It's growing. It's like a flower opening up,' he said, in fascination.

She shuddered in reaction to his touch. To her astonishment it wasn't from revulsion, but from excitement. Her whole body ached to be touched. She wanted him to touch her down there! A low moan hissed between her lips as he ran a finger over her swollen bud. He pressed it! It felt like a bell had rung in her mind, summoning, demanding her attention.

It didn't matter that it was him fingering her, she just needed it, and needed so much more. A hand gripped a breast hanging below. He pulled it and squeezed it roughly. His fingers ensnared a nipple and gently pulled the sensitive orb. All the while a hand wrapped her sex, then fingers rubbed between engorged lips. She became blissfully unaware of where she was, on becoming super-sensitive to every touch.

'You're such a slut!' he casually commented.

He watched her squirming with pleasure, no longer trying to get away. She was lifting her hips and opening her thighs to get more of his fingers.

'What are you, Mrs Marshal?' he demanded, in a loud voice to gain her attention.

'I'm your maid, Sir,' she whispered. Her voice sounded breathy and drawn.

'You're a sexy slut, Mrs. Marshal,' he said.

He didn't realise he had her full attention, and was guiding her thoughts. Already used to giving in to his mother, she had given in to the son. This was a different incentive. She needed him.

'I'm a sexy slut! Please! Make me cum,' she wailed.

Her body was on fire, needing desperately to orgasm. Her whole being concentrated on his hands and fingers, trapped in a world of pleasure. She gasped great mouthfuls of air, straining in the confines of the corset.

'Not yet, later,' he chortled.

'Please, Sir!' she implored him.

It was perfect having this woman at his mercy. He realised how strong it made him feel, being in control of a snooty neighbour. He slapped her ass, and eased her to the floor. She was still out of it, so he shoved the quivering heap of flesh under the desk.

'Please!' she anxiously whined, on realising he was abandoning her.

'Me first,' he told her.

'Please, Sir! I'll be your dirty slut, anything you want! I'm a bitch in heat! Please!' she begged.

He lifted her head into his lap, and manoeuvred his cock between a pair of perfectly formed pouting lips. They were a perfect fit, as though made for his cock. Without an instruction, she sucked him deeper into her mouth, as though it were in the place she badly needed it.

'Suck it good, and I'll think about making you cum,' he told her.

She only ever had sex with her husband until recently. She certainly had never experienced this obscene act. This was beneath her dignity, yet being so het up, even this was somewhat satisfying.

At first there was no way he could concentrate on figures. He tried to distract himself from the delightful sensation she was creating over his hard cock. Why had she sunk into this pathetic state? Did it have something to do with what his mother was doing to her? She said the woman was a slut without knowing it. Covering it up, by behaving so prim and proper, and condemning anyone else who behaved below her high standards. Just look at the bitch now!

He stared between his legs at her, sucking madly on his cock. Her eyes flickered up to meet his gaze. There was a pleading look in the wide open eyes. He wasn't sure if it was a plea to be let go, or finish what he had started. He'd never had a blow job before, and the sensations were too much. Especially watching her do it. Her cheek bulged out with every forward push of her head.

In a great gush he suddenly cum. He lifted his hips, shoving his stiff member deep into her mouth, causing her to choke. He didn't care about that. He had his eyes closed and was gritting his teeth. She pulled back from his cock after choking. A last strand of goo spattered her face, and stuck there.

Jane gazed up at him with a pleading look. She didn't care about anything at all except pleasing him to get what she wanted. It hurt to abandon the last of her pride, but an overwhelming need had locked her into submitting to him. This too was felt to be bad, but she couldn't fight it.

Mark looked down at the woman, into a pair of wide expectant eyes. All that was missing was a leash between her teeth, and she would be a bitch waiting to be taken for a walk. Instead she was a sexed up bitch, waiting to be taken.

Jane felt ashamed of how visibly wanton she had become. It wasn't just him, it was all that had happened in this damn house, corrupting her beyond control. This young guy now had her panting for sex, and she couldn't hold back. His hand came down to a cheek, and she nuzzled it. She hadn't realised what he was doing until a finger slipped into her mouth and she tasted his sperm. As expected of her, she sucked his finger clean.

'Here,' he said, and patted his lap.

She eagerly scrabbled up, meaning to lie across his knees for more of the same. His arms wound around her pinched waist, to sit her on his lap. It was a good feeling to be tightly wrapped in a warm embrace. The cheeks of her bare bottom firmly clamped on his flaccid wet cock. She needed it hard and ready to pleasure her.

'You're my sexy bitch, aren't you?' he asked, quietly whispering in an ear.

So worked up was she, his every touch was an intense, sensuous experience. The feel of his breath in her ear was electric. A hand was gently nursing a breast, tweaking a nipple. Fingers were fluttering over her thighs, closer and closer to her sex. Fingers pressed her distended bud, and tweaked it, causing her to moan fitfully.

'Yes!' she breathily responded.

'Tell me what you want, sexy slut,' he demanded.

He was so strong and demanding, with hands working her up so much, there was nothing she wouldn't say, or promise.

'Yes, Sir, I'm a sexy slut! I'm your sexy bitch. Your sexy bitch wants an orgasm, please, Sir!' she begged, not caring how much she debased her-self. Not realising she was speaking out loud, she added, 'I need your cock so bad, Sir,' Jane whispered, sounding desperate.

'Who would have thought, Mrs Marshal would be such a dirty bitch?' he laughed. 'Promise to be my bitch!' he demanded, affecting a street accent.

'Yes! Whatever you want. I'm your dirty bitch! Let me be your sexy, slutty bitch,' she whimpered.

As the awful words left her mouth she cringed. It was impossible to summon the strength to resist the urges deep within her mind and body. They collaborated to defeat her morals, leaving her a helpless wreck.

'Keep going and I'll let you cum,' he encouraged..'When I'm ready,' he added, with a dirty chuckle.

She slid to the floor between his legs and backed up under the desk. She renewed the sucking of his cock, and this time fondled his balls.

Now sated, Mark concentrated on the figures, preparing them for his mother's accountant. The sensation between his legs was nice, but the idea of a stuck-up neighbour licking and sucking him was terrific. She was starting to get the hang of it. She was gaining confidence, or was it desperation? He didn't care, so long as she knew her place. As his bitch, at his feet serving his pleasure.

Jane could feel her efforts rewarded. His flaccid cock was hardening, becoming once more a potent instrument of satisfaction. Eager to bring him fully erect, she tried to swallow it. Pushing her lips down his shaft, it hit the back of her throat, and she choked. Gripping tight with her lips, and using her tongue, she covered up the mistake. More cautiously this time, she tried again, managing not to gag, yet unable to swallow the head of his penis.

'You can stop now, Mrs Marshal,' he chuckled.

He heard and felt her failed efforts to deep throat him. The very idea that a mature woman, a neighbour, was trying her best to excite him for her own benefit was rousing. He looked at her under the desk, to see the woman's mouth bulging with cock. His cock!

Her eyes flickered open and grew wide. It was difficult to interpret the expression with her face distorted. He beckoned to her with a crooked finger. When he moved back to let her out, she crawled over the carpet, yet not letting go of his cock. He laughed at the sight of the woman being pulled along by his cock.