Bully Ch. 12

Ownership Tattoo

'You need a tattoo,' he told her.

The idea of a tattoo frightened Alicia. She didn't like pain, except the stinging of her bottom after a spanking.

'That's a bit permanent, and I'll regret it later,' she pointed out. 'Oh! Sorry, James,' she quickly added.

'You'll do as you are told, you know that. There is no consultation, no debate. I won't ask you what you want, I expect you to do it, understood?' he heavily warned her.

'Yes, master, sorry, master, it won't happen again, master,' she nervously spoke.

They were still shopping and she didn't want to make a scene. He was likely to pull her over his knee and spank her, right there in the mall. They would have to run for it, before someone intervened, or security turned up. He was still capable of humiliating her with a public spanking, or embarrass her in some other way, to keep her in line.

Recently she'd learnt to gladly carry out whatever he wanted, and in return he made her feel like a special, highly prized possession. At thirty-six she felt it was a privilege to have a young man's complete attention. The attention was overwhelming as he was very demanding in all things, as well as the bedroom.

'Are you going to behave, like a good girl?' he heavily asked.

'Yes, master, whatever you say, master,' Alicia said, feeling like a little girl before a father being chastised.

Since meeting him, Alicia looked different, and felt different. He shaped her, and she wondered what he wanted her to be next. Would he want her to be a dumb blond, or a sex slave? Maybe he just wanted a sex doll, to be taken out in slutty clothes, and used for sex at home.

Her life was now dominated by an eighteen-year-old boy, and she was getting used to it. Before she had became completely dependent upon him, the sensible thing would have been to get a job, and save for an apartment. It was a daunting prospect starting a new life on her own, and at least with James, she was looked after.

Her husband had neglected her, by treating her like a household drudge, rather than his partner in life. Whereas James made her the centre of attention. It was too late wondering if that other life could have been repaired, as she had burned that bridge, and could never go back home.

It had to be faced, she was dependent upon James, and he expected her to be a dutiful and obedient woman. Sometimes she was his sex slave, while at other times she was his dumb blond, to be shown off to other men.

'You need some t-shirts, and I was thinking of a t-shirt dress, what do you think?' he asked.

'That would be nice, thank you, James,' she smiled up at him.

A feeling of serenity and warm pleasure lit her face. He was big and tough, and had shown himself more than capable of protecting her from other men. There were times when she felt so very vulnerable, and he had been there to save her. Their arms were linked as they walked into another store.

Leaving the family home without anything at all, meant buying clothes and the small personal items a woman needs. James had paid for everything, and more. He paid personal attention to even the most intimate items, which she wasn't used to. Her husband had never given her enough money, and never paid her enough attention.

James not only paid her compliments, he was interested in everything about her. He paid for everything and protected her, so of course he was entitled to demand she must obey him. Alicia had come to love being his prized possession, and would do her best to please him.

Alicia flicked her long blond hair over a shoulder while looking in a mirror. This was the last store for the day, and after this they were going for a coffee. They had bought clothes, make-up, and seen to personal feminine needs. All the time her master had generously paid for everything. Though, while out shopping, she called him James instead of master.

Looking in a mirror outside the changing room, she had to say something.

'Sorry, James, I can't wear this, it's too short,' Alicia nervously spoke.

'Why? It's no shorter than the other clothes you wear. My sister's dresses are just as short, and you wear them,' he pointed out.

'It's not a dress, it's a long t-shirt, and I'm wearing a bra,' she tried explaining.

Taking a deep breath and sticking her breasts out, she pointed at the hem.

'Oh! I get it. Your tits are so big, they hold up the hem,' he laughed.

'Yes, that's it,' she reluctantly agreed, feeling embarrassed.

'I can't wear this, James. The panties don't cover my bottom. At the front they show off my pussy, sorry, I mean my cunt. I might as well not wear any,' Alicia complained.

As the words left her lips she realised the mistake. He glared at her, and she knew what was to come.

'Get them off! You don't need them, the t-shirt is enough,' he heavily told her.

Trembling from dread, she peeled the panties down her legs. The leggings she had selected weren't going to be worn either. The packet lay unopened on a chair in the changing room.

'Please, James, I need to wear something under this t-shirt. It will ride up and show everything. Pretty please, master!' she whined, with a little girly voice.

Alicia pouted, and wiggled her hips, and was pleased to see him considering her request.

'I'll be good little girl for my master, when we get home. I'll try so very hard to pleasure, my master. I'll do all the things he likes, and use all the sexual skills you taught me, master,' she said, with a giggly girly voice.

A broad grin lit his face, and she reached up to kiss his lips.

'For the rest of the day, you'll be my little blond bimbo,' he whispered.

She couldn't complain about that as she'd talked her way into it. Besides, she'd grown to like men staring at her with lust in their eyes. He ran a finger up her spine, and kissed her lips. Their tongues met for a short duel.

Alicia waited by the changing room while he looked around for underwear. This was something new to her, as her husband wouldn't even enter a ladies dress shop. Pulling at the hem was no good, as it wouldn't stretch to cover her upper thighs.

'Here, put these on,' he said, handing over a new underwear set.

The price was extortionate! The same thing could be purchased from a cheap store, though the set would be scratchy nylon instead of silk. He leaned into the changing room to watch her pull the stockings up her legs, and attach the straps. She took her time, making it a sexy show.

Searching for the panties, she was bent over looking under a chair, when he goosed her. There was no choice, she had to wait until he finished playing with her private parts. He was just a boy and enjoyed playing with his toys. He was running a finger up her slit, and pressing her clitoris. If anyone glanced in they would see a young guy interfering with a mature woman. What would they think? The thought excited her, wetting her, or was it his touch? Both!

A finger hooked inside her, while his thumb played with her clit. He often did this, so she couldn't pull away from him. To be captured and held by a boy's finger was degrading. The humiliation was sexually arousing. Being held like this often, she no longer tried escaping from his touch. Alicia had become conditioned into obeying him, and giving in to anything he wished.

'My panties, master, I can't find them?' she said, when he let her go.

'These you mean?' he asked her.

'Yes, master, thank you, master. Can I have my panties please, master,' she politely asked.

He liked it when she spoke like a decent woman, while talking about something very private and personal. It was demeaning for a grown woman to ask a mere boy for her panties, and they both found the game exciting.

'No. I told you before, when you complained about wearing panties,' he calmly stated.

'But, master, you said I could wear something under the t-shirt. Oh! I see, master, the stockings,' she realised he'd tricked her. 'My cunt is to be bare, for anyone to see,' she teased, hoping to push him into covering her up.

'Yes, just as it should be for a dirty slut, like you. Remember, you are a dumb bimbo for the rest of the day,' he countered.

She watched him drop the panties into one of the shopping bags and inwardly groaned. Alicia stopped fiddling with the hem, when he pulled her from the changing room. The white stockings and suspenders were nice, but not with a t-shirt. As she walked through the mall it would bounce up showing off her bare ass. The t-shirt slogan, I'm his blond bimbo, might distract some from looking. Though her long legs in high heels would attract most attention.

Carrying the shopping bags meant she was unable to keep the hem under control, and he was fully aware of that. Damn! Him! There were times when he infuriated her, but there was nothing she could do about it, especially not now. He could punish her, or worse, he could send her back to her husband. Not that the unfeeling man would take her back.

Alicia bit her lip, and trotted along beside him on high heels clacking away, while trying to keep up.

Once more she was wearing what he wanted, and as usual it was inappropriate for a mature decent woman. She'd come to terms with the idea of no longer being a decent woman. He used persuasion and intimidation, the tools of a bully, to train her into being obedient to his whims. So now it seemed perfectly reasonable to do as she was told.

After him spending so much money on her today, she couldn't complain. Showing disapproval, or even slumping her shoulders, wasn't allowed, so she would have to be careful.

She ignored the hem riding up, and the men keenly watching her every step. A glance in a store front window reflected a confident slut, striding through the mall. James was impressive in his suit, and she was proud to have him at her side.

As promised, they stopped for coffee before returning home. James was in the men's room, leaving her alone and feeling vulnerable. Men were staring at her, as though she were gold coins abandoned on the pavement.

Their eyes scanned her, starting at the red shiny heels, working their way up her long legs, a slim waist, overhung by a large pair of breasts, almost covered by long blond hair. She'd recently heard more than one man say she had it all. Meaning they liked her body, or rather, they lusted after it. At one time such a lewd remark would have angered her, or left her feeling small, though now it gave her ego a boost.

Sitting down was awkward, as the short t-shirt couldn't hide the stocking tops, and suspender straps. She routinely pulled at the hem, but all that did was expose more of her cleavage. She kept her legs tight together, and nervously sat on the edge of the seat. One of the guys got up and was walking toward her.

She lowered her gaze to her lap, then checked her breasts were decently covered. Or at least as much as the t-shirt would allow, after tugging at the hem. There was always one bolder guy than the others, and willing to be shot down. Only, Alicia had been ordered to play the dumb blond game, and would have to be in character. If the guy was clever he would easily outwit the dumb blond persona, and she would have to play along.

'Hi, my name is Brad, what's yours?' he asked.

'Everyone calls me, Candy,' she chirruped like a chipmunk.

'Well, you are sweet, I can see that,' he said, and sat next to her on the bench.

Alicia giggled inanely at the comment.

'You're just saying that to get in my panties,' she pouted, looking all the more seductive, rather than off putting.

'Well, I could taste if you really were sweet as candy, then,' he said, with a wicked grin.

'I don't understand. Like, what do you mean?' she asked, with the well honed girly voice.

'If I got inside your panties I could taste your honey,' he blatantly said, half expecting her to hit him.

Instead she giggled.

'Ooo! Like, I love that. Like, it's my favourite, most gorgeous thing in the world,' she heavily breathed. 'Except maybe pink, like, I love stuff that is pink, yea?'

The guy hesitated for a moment, not believing what he heard.

'You'd like me to lick your pussy?' he quietly asked.

'Mmm! Yes! No! Naughty boy! Like, that's my most bestest thing ever. If you were my boyfriend you could kiss and pay my pussy loads of attention,' she beamed at him. 'My boyfriend hardly ever does it. Do you do it to your girlfriend?' she asked.

'I used to do it all the time, but she left me. Look!' he said, and touched the tip of his nose with his tongue.

'Wow! Like, I can just imagine what you could do with that, really!' she squealed. 'Like, I'd absolutely love for you to tongue me, it would be so fab, yea!'

'I can imagine what I could do with you,' he said, and looked sincere this time.

'Are you being naughty?' she asked, and giggled.

'I'd like to be. Only with you,' he said.

'Why did your girlfriend leave you?' she asked, only just remembering to stay in character.

'A long story. She got a transfer out of state with her job, and I didn't want to go. We argued about it, and in the end, it was realised we didn't need each other as much as we thought. I like the look of you, Candy,' he said, and gave her a big warm smile.

'My boyfriend looks after me real good, so I owe him lots,' she said, sounding sad for the guy.

'Well, I guess I had better go. If he doesn't turn up, I'll take you home. I'll lick your pussy all night, if you like,' he promised, and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

'Mmm! That would be nice, especially with your long tongue,' she smiled at him.

Alicia couldn't possibly have spoken to anyone like that before her master trained her. He'd brainwashed her, damaging her moral fibre, and stripped away her social politeness. It was always a shock when she spoke about personal things so freely, while acting as the dumb bimbo.

It was liberating and fun, talking to men who treated her like a dumb blond. It was nice the way they warmed to her, and opened up with their feelings. They appreciated her honesty, though, was she really being honest? It was all just a game. Being controlled by a boy was also a game, only it had badly got out of hand.

It was a relief seeing James return to the table. The guy had the decency to return to his table, and therefore an unpleasant scene had been averted. Perhaps James enjoyed bullying a man caught talking to her.

'Did anyone bother you?' he asked.

'No, but a nice guy spoke to me,' she said. 'They are usually assholes, but this one was nice.'

James looked at her, unsure what to say. Perhaps a nice guy was more of a threat than an asshole.

'Here, for you. A token of my love,' he sincerely spoke, and pulled a flower from behind his back.

'Oh! That's lovely, a red rose, my favourite,' she gushed, and giggled.

A single long stemmed rose, a whispered endearment in her ear, a compliment about her clothes, and all was forgiven. He praised the look of her hair, telling her that she looked a perfectly wonderful bimbo. A tear formed in the corner of an eye, from the wonderful way he treated her. Being called a bimbo by him was only a joke they shared.

He wanted her to act like a dumb bimbo, and she would gladly perform anything for him. It was a fun game. James had wiped away her morals and self-worth, so she could be whatever he wanted. It was liberating, with a wonderful sense of freedom to do or say whatever came to mind.

They talked together about the clothes they bought, with lots of giggles from her, and smiles and kisses from him. When he deeply kissed her in a public place, she no longer cringed, as she now enjoyed the kisses, and the display of affection.

***

Maybe he'd forgotten about the tattoo, she hoped so. They arrived at the club where he had her pierced some time ago. It brought back memories of when her pussy had been sealed, with tiny locks through rings piercing her pussy lips. The rings were still there as a reminder.

It was terrible to find her sex had been locked away from her husband. It was outrageous for it to be her son's bully taking charge of her vagina. How dare he do that to her. It meant moving into the spare bedroom, so her husband didn't discover her shameful secret. Her husband hadn't bothered with her, and let her sleep alone. It had been the final act to the end of their marriage, though it lingered on for a short while.

It was also the first step in her training. He was showing her how effectively he could control her, even when she was at home, in bed. Laying there at night feeling so needy, trying to masturbate and failing to orgasm, had been dreadful. The boy had worked her up so much, she was losing her will to fight him.

The boy had started controlling her back then. Ever since he trained her relentlessly, until he had absolute control over her. He now had her all to himself, keeping her close, moulding her into the plaything he wanted her to be. Like a pet, she was obedient and house trained, ready to come to heel whenever he jerked her leash.

Two weeks ago James had kept her awake the whole weekend, torturing her by edging her, and not letting her sleep, softening her up. It was no wonder she said those awful things in front of her husband. She'd told him she was a sex slave, and that James owned her. So there was no going back, and he hadn't come to claim her back.

Damn! The guy who pierced her lips was there, and he also did tattoos.

'Here, drink this,' James told her.

It was a club for adolescents, but James added vodka to the orange juice. He was considerate, as the alcohol would numb the pain, a little.

'What happens when your father returns home, will he make me leave?' she asked.

'Where did that suddenly come from? He's working in South America, Argentina. They're building a railway to a mine, so he'll be away for a year at least. We won't be home when he returns. I'm taking you to college with me. I'm buying an apartment near the college. No one will know who you are, so you can relax once there,' he informed her.

Damn! The boy had it all planned out. She was figuring on a few naughty weeks, playing at being his sex slave, and then moving out when he went to college. Though, where the money would come from, hadn't been worked through. Hopefully he would give her the deposit on an apartment.

Alicia knew he had been training her for all these weeks, shaping her to what he wanted her to be. It made no difference being aware of what he was doing to her. It was both subtle and blatant. He got what he wanted with a slap, a spanking, together with lots of delicious rewards. The problem was that had begun to enjoy the punishments as well.

Unlike her husband, James never put her down, he always praised her. When he called her a slut, it was because she had become a slut. He'd stripped her of all her decency, and inhibitions, so she could be whatever he wanted. The tattoo would be another grinding away of her old self. Soon there would be nothing left, except the pliable bimbo slut he wanted her to be.

All the time she was with him the role progressed more deeply into her mind. It had become natural to behave like a slut, and when he snapped his fingers, she would be his stupid bimbo. What worried her was that after being with him so long, it would become impossible to shrug off the indecent behaviour. After all, what was left except Alicia the dim slut.

Being his slut for a few weeks was exciting, but living like that for the rest of her life was a daunting thought. She imagined being in a bar dressed in slutty clothes, waiting to be picked up by a man. Anyone who talked to her would have her giggling and talking intimately. They wouldn't get the wrong impression, she would be available to anyone wanting her.

'Oh! God! Is Rainbow man going to tattoo me?' she breathlessly asked.