It was exactly 1 pm and Jeremy knocked on Mrs. Dylan’s door. As instructed by her, he wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Mrs. Dylan hadn’t specified what he was to wear on his feet, so he wore flip-flops.

Jeremy had been struggling to process what had happened to him since Mrs. Dylan had left him lying on the wrestling ring mat almost fours ago. (See Part 2) He knew he was in way over his head. He had no experience to fall back on to help him understand his feelings in this situation. She had beat the shit out of him in that ring. His stomach was still sore from the punching and pummelling she had subjected him to. There were bruises on his belly where he had been hit. He remembered feeling totally physically beaten lying on the mat gasping for air after she had finished with him. If that hadn’t been enough, his sore nipples were a constant reminder of how he completely lost his will to say no to her. He should be afraid of her. But he wasn’t. As scary as she had been in that ring, and as scary as she was right now to him, he wanted to be with her. He wanted to be dominated by Mrs. Dylan. How fucked up was that?

The door opened and there stood Mrs. Dylan. Even after having experienced her destroying him that morning, he still couldn’t get over the size of her. She just filled the doorway. He couldn’t even see anything at all behind her. She just blocked it out. She wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts which, as he understood cargo shorts, were supposed to be loose fitting but were stretched tight over her massive legs and even larger butt. She wore a light blue tank top that hugged her big breasts and round stomach. She brought those huge arms up and folded them across her breasts making her arms even more intimidating than they normally were to him. She leaned against the door frame, staring at Jeremy with those hard, dark eyes of her and a wicked smile across her face.

“Hi, Mrs. Dylan,” he said trying to held her gaze as best he could. He didn’t want her to know how uncertain he felt.

Mrs. Dylan said nothing. She just looked at him, sizing him up. She wondered what affect her domination of him in the gym that morning had had upon him.

Jeremy felt uneasy when she didn’t reply. She just looked at him like, he thought, she was inspecting a new piece of furniture or some other new acquisition. The silence between them was becoming unbearable to him. He couldn’t stand it.

“I came at 1 just like you told me to,” he said, trying to break the silence. He wondered if she was angry with him. Or maybe she’s had second thoughts and decided he’s not right. Jeremy wished she’d say something and stop staring at him so intensely.

Mrs. Dylan pushed herself off of the door frame and turned to go back into the house.

“Leave the flip-flops outside,” she said. “Follow me, boy. Close the door too.” She moved into the house.

Jeremy quickly slipped out of his flip-flops, walked into the house and closed the door. There was a lot of natural light streaming into the house. He looked down the hallway but couldn’t see Mrs. Dylan.

“Mrs. Dylan?” he called out tentatively.

“In the dining room, boy.”

Jeremy walked down the hallway to the dining room. He looked inside and saw Mrs. Dylan sitting at the far end of the dining room table. He stood outside the doorway looking at her. Staring hard at him, Mrs. Dylan beckoned him in with a small wave of her hand. As she did so, she motioned with her head for him sit at her end of the table to the right corner from where she sat. Jeremy moved to the spot she indicated and sat down. He was careful not to accidentally touch her.

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

Jeremy shook his head.

“When I ask you a question, you answer me with words, boy.”

“Um, no Mrs. Dylan, I’m not hurt. No sprains or anything like that. My stomach is still a bit sore though.”

“Bruising?”

“Just a bit on my stomach.”

“Stand up,” she demanded. “Show me.”

Jeremy stood up and pulled up his t-shirt to reveal his belly. She could see bruising under his rib cage. She reached out and gently touched the bruises.

“Does that hurt when I touch it?”

“Not really. It did a couple of hours ago. But now, not so much.”

“Are you feeling any discomfort anywhere else?” she asked.

Jeremy paused. Mrs. Dylan could see he was deciding what to say.

“Well,” she said impatiently, “out with it.”

She noticed he was blushing.

“Um, well, my nipples are really tender. They’re really sore to touch.”

Mrs. Dylan looked him directly in the eyes.

“Good,” she said. “Now sit down.”

Jeremy sat down. Mrs. Dylan leaned forward on her elbows with her forearms and hands flat on the dining table.

“Now listen carefully to me, boy. I’m going to ask you some questions and you are going to answer them honestly and to the best of your ability. Understand?”

Jeremy nodded.

“Words, boy. Use your words,” barked loudly at him. “I will not tell you that again. Don’t get me angry, boy.”

Her dark eyes were flashing as she spoke.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Dylan. It won’t happen again,” he sputtered.

“It better not,” she hissed.

She collected herself. She didn’t want to be angry during this time. It was important for her to be calm or he won’t be calm.

“Now, let’s begin again,” she said. “Tell me, what did you experience in the wrestling ring this morning?”

Jeremy wasn’t expecting that question. He looked down at the table so he wouldn’t have to look into her eyes as he spoke. He knew that would unnerve him.

“I’ve been asking that myself for most of the morning,” he began, speaking slowly and deliberately. He let out a long slow breath. “I felt overwhelmed,” he stammered.

“Overwhelmed by what? How were you overwhelmed?” she questioned.

He continued to stare at the table trying to come up with the words to describe how he had felt overwhelmed.

“Jeremy,” said Mrs. Dylan with emphasis. “Look at me when you are speaking to me. Always look at me.”

He looked at her.

“I felt physically overwhelmed by you. You were like an unstoppable train. There was nothing I could do to slow you down, let alone to stop you.”

Jeremy paused for a brief moment. Looking at Mrs. Dylan, he noticed her eyes didn’t look as hard as they just were. Her eyes seemed to offer an encouragement for him to continue. He looked away for a fraction of a second and then looked at her again.

“I even tried punching you as hard as I could to stop you but you were like a juggernaut,” he continued. “When you landed on my stomach, I thought I was going to die. I really did.”

Mrs. Dylan nodded her understanding. “Go on,” she said quietly.

“When you helped me get my breath back, I knew you weren’t going to kill me. But I was angry for the way you hurt me.”

“OK,” she responded. “What else happened?”

Jeremy let out a long sigh. “I can’t explain what happened next. I’m still trying to process it.”

“Process what?” she inquired.

“I can’t describe it very well. I’ve never had a feeling like that before. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“Try, boy.”

“Lying on the mat trying to catch my breath and collect myself, I knew you were physically more powerful than I was. I knew physically you could do whatever you wanted to me. There was nothing I could do to stop you.”

Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and looked at Mrs. Dylan with a baffled, disconnected look on his face.

“What’s going on, Jeremy?” she asked.

“Something else happened to me,” he said quietly.

Mrs. Dylan said nothing. She just held his gaze. Just let him talk, she thought to herself.

“Uh, it happened when you started twisting my nipples. It hurt. And your eyes were hard… unforgiving… scary. There was a kind of flashing going on in them. I knew you were enjoying it. And I knew I couldn’t stop you.”

He paused and Mrs. Dylan could see he was struggling to control himself.

“Go on,” she said.

His voice was breaking as he struggled to speak.

“Your eyes changed,” he began. “At first they were almost triumphant in their look. And then it was like you were beckoning me. And when you were asking me who owned me, I said you did.”

He continued, “I…I…uh…didn’t say you owned me because you were forcing me to. I said it because I wanted to say it. Um, Mrs. Dylan…I knew it was true…and then, despite the pain from you squeezing and twisting my nipples, I just drifted off into some quiet space I’ve never been before.”

Jeremy stopped and let out a sigh. “I just knew at that moment, that you could do anything you wanted to me and I would follow.”

He paused. Looking at Mrs. Dylan he sputtered, “And I know that now.”

She saw tears running down his face.

“This is good, Jeremy. You needed to say it for yourself. And I needed to hear you say it without me forcing it out of you.”

She patted his hand and sat back in her chair.

“Now I want you to dry those tears. And then I want you to listen to me.”

“Yes, Mrs. Dylan,” he said in a rough voice. He pulled his t-shirt up and brushed his tears away.

“Now,” she continued. “When we are in private you will call me Ma’am. If we happen to be together in public then you can call me Mrs. Dylan. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Next. Remember this. I am sadistic. I like causing pain. It gives me pleasure. I will hurt you but know this: I will never harm you. Understand?”

“I think so. Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good.”

“I want to know if you’ve had Sex yet. Have you been with a woman?”

Jeremy stared wide eyed at Mrs. Dylan. He could feel his face turning red.

“Uh, well, I had a girl friend in high school,” he mumbled.

“For crying out loud, boy. It’s a simple question. Yes or no. Have you had Sex?”

“No,” he whispered.

She looked at him for a moment and then placed her hands on the table.

“My last rule,” she began, “the only time you are allowed to cum is with me. No Masturbation. No girlfriends. No ejaculations at all unless I approve it. Understand?”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am,” he said slowly. “Only with you.”

“And only when I say you can.” She emphasized.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly,

“OK. Come with me.”

Mrs Dylan pushed herself out of her chair and walked out of the dining room. Jeremy jumped up and followed after her. She walked into the kitchen and then across it to a door. She opened it and then disappeared through it. A few seconds later, a light turned on and illuminated a set of stairs. Jeremy went to the stairs and looked down. Stairs to the basement, he thought. Mrs. Dylan was at the bottom of the stairs and moving out of his sight. He followed her down. As he walked down the stairs and could see more of the basement, he was stunned by what he saw. He stood on the bottom stair and tried to take in the room. The wall at the far end of the room had what looked like two long planks fastened together as an ‘x’. The two planks had what he thought were cuffs at both their ends. On the wall to his left were some chairs and a few small tables. Canes, whips, and other implements he didn’t recognize were hung in an orderly fashion along that wall. On the other side of the room, Mrs. Dylan was standing by what looked like a trainer’s table or a table he’s seen in a physiotherapist’s office for people to lie on to be treated. Beside the table was a four-drawer dresser with a small cabinet on top of it. She was standing with her legs slightly spread and her arms crossed on her chest. He saw she definitely had an amused look on her face.

“Like my playroom, boy?” she said.

Jeremy just stared at her dumbly.

After a few seconds, the bemused look on her face was replaced by a stern look.

“What did I say about answering me, boy?”. Her voice held a threat in it.

Mrs. Dylan walked to the other side of the room and pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.

“Come here now.”

Jeremy felt nailed to the spot he was standing.

“Boy.” Her voice was menacing and that flinty dark eyed gaze that so unsettled him was directed right at him.

He moved with reluctant effort towards her. He stopped in front of her and looked down into that scary gaze.

“Lie down over my lap,” she ordered him.

“Ma’am?”, he replied stupidly.

She reached over and grabbed him around his wrist. It felt like a vice had closed on his wrist. Opening her legs slightly, Mrs. Dylan dragged him between those huge legs. Pulling him down, she forced him over her left thigh. Her left hand gripped the back of Jeremy’s neck and forced it down as hard as she could. His head was almost touching the floor. She then closed her right leg against Jeremy’s legs which were then held firmly between her legs. He was immobilized and bent over her knee. With her right hand she reached across his Ass and grabbed the waist band of his shorts and forced them down. She then took hold of the other side of his shorts and forced them down as well. His bare Ass was now exposed.

“Mrs. Dylan! I…I mean Ma’am. What are you doing?” he yelped. He tried to move but he couldn’t budge.

Mrs. Dylan lay her right hand over the bare skin of his Ass. She felt herself quivering with excitement. She raised her hand high and brought it down has hard as she could on his right Ass cheek…whack! The sound echoed in the room. Up went her right hand again and it fell hard on his left cheek…whack! The sound thrilled her. The boy squealed. She loved that desperate sound. Alternating smacks on each cheek, she smashed her hand on to his reddening cheeks eight more times. The boy was squirming ineffectively under her. Finishing, she moved her hand gently over the reddening skin of his tight Ass.

“Those were for not answering me. Don’t ever do that again,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whined. “It won’t happen again. I promise….please stop.”

“Now, these are for not coming to me when I told you to come to me,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

She raised her hand high again and rained five consecutive blows, hard and fast, on to his right Ass cheek…whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! The boy was gasping. This feels so good, she thought.

She then switched immediately to his left check…whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! His Ass was turning a glorious red. She grinned, admiring her work.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “Please…no more.”

“And these are for not getting over my knee when I told you to. Don’t ever not obey me again, boy,” she hissed.

Up her hand went again and down it fell with force on his right cheek. Up her hand went and down it came again on to his left cheek. The sound of her hand smashing onto his butt reverberated around the room. This time she had no set number of blows. Right cheek, left cheek she continued on. Her hand began to sting but the sting felt good to her. Her breathing became more laboured as she continued spanking him. She felt the boy struggling to Free himself but this only encouraged to tighten her grip on his neck and legs and rain her blows down harder on his now scarlet colored Ass. His squeals and pleas to stop acted as fuel to her desire to inflict pain on him. Her whole body was in the rhythm of the spanking and the blows kept coming and coming and coming. Then she felt him stop struggling. Mrs. Dylan continued to smash her hand onto his exposed Ass, pushed by a glorious feeling of triumphant success. He just lay motionless and quiet, unable to stop it and accepting what she was doing to him. The sweet point she thought where he knew struggle was useless and all that was left for him was to accept, he could do nothing to stop her. He had let go into her dominance. That was the sweetest feeling of all for her. The spanking stopped. She ran her hand over the blood red Ass. The boy let out a whimper but he just lay across her thigh, not moving. She felt herself breaking out in a broad smile.

Letting go of neck, Mrs. Dylan then opened her legs and freed her boy. She pushed him gently and he fell off of her, collapsing onto the floor at her feet.

“What have you learned boy?” she asked quietly.

A weak voice answered, “To answer immediately when you ask me a question, Ma’am. And to do what you tell me to do.”

“And what did I say about you diddling yourself, boy?”

“Nothing without your approval, Ma’am,” he said.

“Good boy,” she replied.

Mrs. Dylan pushed herself up with a loud grunt. The older she was getting, the harder it was for her to move her bulk from a sitting to a standing position without grunting. She stepped around Jeremy and moved to the trainer’s table on the other side of the room.

“Get up and come here,” she said as stood by the table.

Jeremy pushed himself up to a standing position. He pulled his shorts back up over his stinging butt. As he moved towards her, Mrs. Dylan opened the cabinet on top of the dresser and pulled out a plastic bottle of scented rubbing oil. She turned and faced him.

“Now we are going to do what I originally intended we do before you forced me to deal with your flippant, rude behaviour.”

She handed him the bottle. Mrs. Dylan then reached down and grasped her tank top and slowly pulled it up and over her head. She caught a quick glance of Jeremy staring incredulously at her as first her belly and then her breasts were exposed to him. The kid’s mouth was hanging open. She handed her tank top to him.

“Hang this up on the hook beside the dresser,” she instructed him. “And close your mouth. You look ridiculous.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he stammered. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her body. Her breasts flowed off her large stomach and rested on each side of it. They were big and soft. Her small, pink nipples poked out of her light brown areola. Jeremy wasn’t sure but he thought they were erect. What he did know for sure was that he was erect. He felt his erection throbbing and straining against his shorts. Again, he was relieved his boner was hidden by his t-shirt. He broke his gaze on her breasts and belly with immense effort. He placed the lotion bottle on the dresser. Moving to his left he took her tank top and hung it on the hook. As he turned back, he saw Mrs. Dylan stepping out of her cargo pants.

“Be a dear and hang these up too,” she said. She lifted her left foot out of her cargo pants and then stepped on them as she put her left foot down. With the cargo pants pinned to the floor she lifted her right foot out as well. She then flipped them towards Jeremy with her foot. He was in awe at the size of her firm legs. Each of her legs was bigger than his own torso he thought. Mrs. Dylan then turned towards the trainer’s table and hoisted herself up onto it with another grunting effort. She manoeuvred herself around on the table until she was laying on her stomach. She fit length ways onto the table but Jeremy could see her huge body hung over the sides of the table. Her massive butt seemed to rise up from her body like a small mountain. He was gobsmacked. He bent over and picked up her cargo pants and hung them with her tank top. Turning back to face Mrs. Dylan he could see she was resting her head on her forearms which were folded under her head. She was looking at him with an amused look on her face.

“Like what you see, boy?”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Good,” she replied. “Now take off your clothes.”

Jeremy knew she’d see his erection. He felt embarrassed. He slowly pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it to the side.

“Hang it up,” Mrs. Dylan commanded. “My home is not your pig pen.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

She could see him trying to block her view of that very noticeable bulge in his shorts. He picked up his t-shirt and turned to hang it on the hook next to the one Mrs. Dylan’s clothes were hanging. With his back to her, he pulled down his shorts. His Ass was a crimson red from his spanking. Mrs. Dylan admired her work with satisfaction. What a nice, slim, firm Ass he has she thought. She had plans for that Ass of his.

“Hurry up, boy. I don’t have all day.”