Jennifer Obeys!

(I originally published this story under the name NewForester, but although this is the same author, I am now writing under the name Rockycoveboy. I still hope you enjoy the story the second time around).

*****

The aching in her body was all consuming, reaching deep into the pit of her stomach –and she had no answer, not for the moment, anyway. The feeling had not really been persistent since she had arrived in Spain, but every now and then her body ached so badly with terrible frustration, and there was just nothing she could do about it, well almost nothing.

This morning was one of those mornings –she had woken up early and the thoughts had washed over her and just stayed with her, and so, after the youngest son had gone off to school, and she had had some fruit juice and a coffee for breakfast, she had taken her car and driven the mile or so down to the glorious beach. Already the temperature in Barcelona at 9.30 in the morning was up in the 70s, there were only a few people about, and so she parked the car and decided to walk.

She walked amongst the green trees, smelling the morning odours of the plants and greenery in the esplanade gardens, and then she crossed over the road, slipped off her flip-flops, and went down onto the golden sands. She was at peace with the morning stillness, but her mind remembered the strong hand on her back, it remembered vividly the shadows, flitting across the ceiling, as the thin piece of wood whooshed through the air, and it recalled the wonderful pain as her submissive body received the inflicted training.

Her crotch now throbbed all around her vagina, the aching was there as she waded through the sands, and she oh so wanted to caress her bikini pants to relieve the need in her feminine body –but she was too classy to make a spectacle, even though there was no-one around.

Jennifer and her husband, and youngest son, had arrived in Barcelona only two months ago to take up the building contract for her husband's little company. They had settled into the wonderful villa, found a suitable school for their son, and Jennifer's husband had set to on the demanding, 5 year task.

In spite of the superb, new lifestyle, Jennifer still had commitments back in England, notably the pantomime that she was organising for the senior school on the south coast, where the family home was. She had promised not to leave them in the lurch, and she was determined to keep her word.

The feelings she had at the moment, though, were for her physical well-being, the physical use of her body and mind that had occupied her thoughts on many occasions since she had come to the Spanish resort. She remembered the visit to Arthur Hudson's country home when he had decided to award the building contract to her husband –how could she forget it –and now her body ached with the memory.

Arthur Hudson was the multi-millionaire boss of a Development business, in his 60s, and he was in the process of building a whole new village of villas and apartments near the Spanish resort. His family home was in the New Forest, and prospective contactors had been invited there for dinner a few months ago, as a sort of 'audition,' before he eventually awarded the Spanish contract to Jennifer's husband. Hudson had taken a shine to Jennifer immediately, and in a sort of blackmail, he had persuaded the sexy mother to succumb to a thrashing over his office desk, in the privacy of his sumptuous upstairs study. It had, no doubt, affected his choice of contractor. The episode had had a profound effect on Jennifer, and she had somehow fallen under the spell of the property magnate, without forgetting her responsibilities as a wife and mother.

Jennifer was 39, a good mother, but she didn't have much of a social life with her husband, who was always working all the hours that God sent, but Jennifer had been determined to get to Spain with all the attractions of good weather, good income, a nice villa and a car for herself, and she had known that Arthur Hudson's request was more or less guaranteed to get the nice little 'package' that she craved.

She was a 'looker,' still with a fine body, lithe legs and firm breasts, and her dark hair was neatly trimmed to go with the wonderful tan that she worked hard on. She loved the sun, spent as much time sunbathing as she could, and was proud of the way she attracted glances from other men when out in the Barcelona air.

Walking along the sands, at the edge of the water, she knew she had to phone him, as she had promised, just to let him know that she was returning to the UK at the weekend, for a few days, to finalise preparations for the panto, and to see her family. It was September, very few people were on the beach at that time of day, and Jennifer moved slowly in the water, her mind back in the New Forest, at Hudson's house, and her loins continued to ache with the thoughts.

'Mr Hudson? It's Jennifer.' There was no need to phone him but she was drawn to his power, the stunning control that he had exercised over her at their first meeting, and even though she was visiting the UK for other reasons, she just knew that she had to contact him.

She held the mobile closely as she continued her walk along the shore, the little splashes from the sea going up her calves and the morning sun warming her skin. Jennifer very calmly discussed how the family had settled into their new way of life, the wonderful climate and the fabulous villa, and told Hudson about the need to supervise the pantomime and see her family back in the UK. Butterflies tickled inside her tummy, but she wouldn't dare mention her shuddering body, the memory of being over Hudson's desk while he administered his own brand of punishment, but she shivered when his strong voice said,–

'Jennifer, I have a box at the football ground for a match on Monday evening. I want to introduce you to some friends. A car will pick you up.'

Not a 'would you like to,' or 'are you free on Monday evening.' No, just a direction, and she was expected to be there. Jennifer felt a shiver go up her spine, as she realised he was controlling her again. Even from hundreds of miles away, across the Channel, he had taken over Jennifer's itinerary and was organising her.

'What are you wearing at the moment, Jennifer,' asked Hudson.

'I'm on the beach with just denim shorts and shirt, walking along the shore.'

'Walk into the water, Jennifer, until the sea almost comes up to your knees.'

'Why?' but she had already started to obey, and was wading gently through the warm, blue sea.

Her submissive nature was now buzzing again. This is what she had been missing,– strong, kind, but firm, guidance, not like being at home with a 'do this, do that and why haven't you...' attitude.

'Undo your shirt, Jennifer.'

'Here? On the beach?'

'Undo your shirt Jennifer,' and Hudson's voice was strong, commanding and definite.

She looked around, and there was nobody near her –in fact, there were only one or two other people on the beach at all, and they were back up on the sands, at least a hundred yards away. Traffic and people were buzzing up and down the esplanade, the trees were waving gently in the breeze, but Jennifer was alone, her paddle in the sea now suddenly erotic.

'Are you doing it, Jennifer?'

'Yes, yes I am,' and she had undone the denim shirt until all the buttons were free, and she gazed out to sea. The breeze on her naked breasts was wonderful, and her nipples slowly but definitely rose to protrude like corks being lifted from a vintage bottle of wine.

'Now splash the sea water onto your breasts, Jennifer,' and without hesitation, the tall, attractive woman bent and scooped up a handful of cold water from the sea and splashed it over the firm twins of her full breasts to send a shiver down her body.

'Oh, it feels wonderful,' she gasped into the mobile.

'I knew it would. Do it again, Jennifer,' and Arthur Hudson was in complete control once more, dictating to the lone beach woman. More splashes of sea water landed on the hard nipples that pointed down at the water as she bent over, her whole breasts swaying beautifully in the morning air, and Jennifer was gradually opening her shirt as wide as possible so that her whole, magnificent chest was open to the elements.

'Phone with the time on Monday, Jennifer,' and the line went dead –Hudson had left his mark, and Jennifer was hooked again.

It had been a pleasant little flight into Gatwick and she had spent a nice weekend seeing her mother, sister and the older children down in her home village, but it was Monday now, and she was getting ready to catch the train into the local town, where Hudson's car would pick her up. She told her family she had to 'sort out some business,' and was gone. It would only be a quick trip as she had to be back at the school tomorrow for pantomime rehearsals in the evening –the whole point of her trip back to the UK.

Jennifer dressed smartly, and the butterflies began in her stomach even before she had got off the train. Sure enough, Hudson had sent a car to pick her up, chauffeur driven, and it drove speedily along the Hampshire roads before it arrived at the new, all seater football stadium. Jennifer had touched up her make-up in the car and was then shown up into the executive box by a steward. It was a stunning room, glass fronted with a fantastic view all around the ground, which by now was filling up with about 30,000 fans for the big game. There was a small bar, thick carpet on the floor, sumptuous leather seats, and a small coffee table.

The atmosphere was incredible but Jennifer was, for the moment, alone. She helped herself to a brandy and lemonade, and then took a seat and watched the hundreds of people scurrying about to their seats in the stands. She had treated herself to a new outfit as she knew she was going to the game and she felt sexy but warm.

A lovely pair of suede boots were almost hidden by the long suede skirt that swirled round her legs, and above her waist she wore a thick brown jumper with a matching brown, sleeveless, suede jacket. She looked stunning once more, and her underwear, she thought, was suitable for the occasion.

'Good evening Jennifer,' and she recognised the rich, strong voice before she even saw Arthur Hudson. As she turned he was walking across the room towards her, and he was accompanied by another gentleman, of similar age to Hudson, and just as smart and dashing.

'Peter Walker, one of my business colleagues, and a Director of the football club here.' Introductions were made and the three of them enjoyed drinks as the game started.

Jennifer was seated between the two men in a comfortable leather chair, enjoying the relaxation, and getting into the excitement of the contest as the crowd began to cheer and then boo. More drinks were served and nibbles were available, and at half time the three of them discussed the project in Spain, the panto at the high-school, and their lives in general, and then Arthur Hudson suddenly announced, –

'Peter has invited us back to his house after the game for a small get-together, Jennifer –he knows how much you are enjoying living in Spain for the time being –and he knows how much you appreciate the life style there.' His eyes drilled into her and she knew immediately what his hidden meaning was. Already she was excited and powerless. She blushed a little and smiled before Hudson went on–.

'Just to show us how much you appreciate the lifestyle, Jennifer, when the game re-starts, I'd like you to do me a small favour, nothing to worry about but just a small token to show how you have been able to rely upon my judgement in assisting you. Now, have another drink as they'll be coming back onto the pitch in a minute.' Jennifer, already with butterflies gathering in her tummy, filled her glass with another brandy and lots of lemonade as the game re-started, and she watched Hudson and Walker take their seats again.

'Before you join us again, Jennifer, will you walk to the glass frontage and look out over the pitch. You can see everybody from there, but the crowd will be watching the game and can only see your face through the glass anyway. OK.' She took a sip from the glass and made her way the few yards past the men, before she was stood looking out over the game and the milling throngs kicking every ball. She felt tense and excited again and Hudson's next words didn't exactly come as a total shock.

'You look very attractive once more, Jennifer. Would you just slowly raise the back of your skirt for Mr Walker and me –I've already told him what wonderful legs you have, and now seems an appropriate time to re-affirm that fact. If you would Jennifer.'

Jennifer wasn't stupid –the whole point of making the trip this evening was to cater for Hudson's sexual whims, to allow him to see her body, and to titillate him, to keep on the right side of him, and she also knew full well that it was her desire to be controlled and become a submissive plaything –she had thought hardly of anything else for the last month or two –but here, in front of 30,000 football fans AND another complete stranger!! –

'It would be so good of you,' Hudson reminded her once more, a firmness in his voice. She took another sip of the brandy, for Dutch courage, and put the glass down on the shiny wooden window-sill. As she looked out over the football crowd, she was determined only to allow the two men behind her to witness her exhibition. Jennifer held the material of the suede skirt above her buttocks and began to pull the back of her skirt up her legs. As it inched up her calves, she made sure that her feet and legs were together, but already she was tingling with the excitement of such a public display.

She stopped momentarily with just the backs of her knees on view, but there was no comment and she knew she had to go on—she knew she wanted to go on. Raising the skirt further, the material gradually eased up her thighs until it reached the stocking tops.

'Wonderful,' whispered Hudson to his colleague. 'Aren't they wonderful. Carry on, Jennifer.' She had taken great care with her tan coloured stockings, garter belt and panties, so she had no worries about her attire, and it was for this very reason.

The skirt slid beautifully up the back of her legs until the firm, strong thighs were in full view above the stocking tops, and then the purple panties drawn tightly across the cheeks of her bottom peeped out at the two onlookers.

'Just a little more,' and Hudson was in full control of Jennifer once again. The back of the skirt was soon resting totally in the small of Jennifer's back, exposing all of her tight panties across her arse, her taut suspenders and her shapely legs tapering down to disappear into the high boots which melded around her legs, almost reaching her knees.

She felt mesmerised, in dream world, a tingling, and the butterflies mingled in her stomach. She felt moistness between her legs and just parted her feet a couple of inches, trying to relieve the feelings gathering in her vagina. She watched the ball flying around the pitch below her, the young, fit bodies of the footballers flitted through her thoughts, but mainly she concentrated on the fact that her rear was on view to the two powerful men behind her.

'There, Peter, didn't I tell you that her figure was stunning. She really is a very kind and appreciative woman, don't you think?' Jennifer smiled and blushed again, and more moisture gathered at the lips of her vagina, dampening the crotch of the purple panties.

'Absolutely, Arthur, absolutely. I am sure Frank and Kofi would appreciate such an attractive lady.' He didn't expand and Hudson carried on.

'Jennifer, you know, she's had some wonderful experiences in her young life, and now she's enjoying a wonderful life in Spain with her family. Aren't you Jennifer?'

'Yes. Mr Hudson, it's been wonderful so far,' Jennifer replied, almost grovelling as she held the skirt tightly at her waist.'

'Would you like to sit down now, and we can perhaps carry on the discussion later. Would you prefer that, Jennifer?'

She wanted to sit down now, as she was getting wetter and wetter by the minute, but she knew that she daren't move until Mr Hudson said it was OK to do so.

'Yes, please, Mr Hudson, we can talk about it later,' whatever 'it' was, she thought.

'Come and finish your drink, then –the game will be over in a few minutes. I'm sure we can enjoy a mutually enjoyable evening later, after the game is over,' finished Hudson, that gritty firmness in his voice. Grateful, but even more nervous and excited, Jennifer allowed her skirt to fall back into place as she turned and joined the men in their seats, giving them both a shy and knowing smile as she sat down.

The journey in Walkers Jaguar only took about 20 minutes, out into the country, and soon they pulled into his driveway. Jennifer had sat in the back while Hudson had sat in the front next to Peter Walker. She hadn't spoken but listened as the two men made small talk and occasionally complimented her on her attire, her tan and her fine figure. Not as palatial as Hudson's country home but, nevertheless, Walker's residence was a stunning detached house in a quiet little lane, and the place was in darkness as they arrived.

As the lights came on, Walker led them into the 'games' room which was dominated by a full size snooker table, surrounded by plush furniture, leather chairs, coffee tables and a small bar in one of the corners. Walker got them all a drink from the bar, and Jennifer could feel the warmth from the central heating permeating round her body on this chilly September evening. Soon she was relaxed in a soft chair, watching TV pictures on the huge screen that was hanging on one of the long walls at the side of the room. Walker and Hudson drew the huge curtains at the windows and then joined Jennifer at one of the coffee tables to further the conversation and relax once more.

'Did you enjoy the game, then, Jennifer –all those fit, young men showing off their muscles,' smiled Walker. 'I'm one of the Directors of the club, you know, and you're welcome to a seat in my private box anytime you want.'

'Well, thankyou. I'm not really a football fan but I enjoyed it a lot, especially as we didn't have to sit out in the cold. Perhaps I'll keep you to that invitation.'

'She does appreciate the finer things in life, Peter,' went on Hudson, 'don't you Jennifer, and she's particularly keen to ensure that the contract in Spain is a success. Isn't that right, Jennifer?' She blushed again, knowing that Hudson was leading her on again, teasing her, sexually taunting her. The brandies consumed during the evening, the warmth of the room, and the flutter in her vagina had already brought her to a high state of excitement, and she knew both men had appreciated her display back at the stadium.

'Do you think Mr Walker and I could see those wonderful legs once more, Jennifer. Perhaps if you stood against the billiard table over there.'

A car drew up outside the house and Jennifer looked startled at the thought of possible visitors.

'Don't worry, Mr Walker said he was a Director of the football club, didn't he? It's only a couple of the players coming for a quiet drink, I expect. Carry on Jennifer,' insisted Hudson.

'No, Mr Hudson, I can't!! Not in front of any more strangers. You know I can't,' and now she looked a little frightened and flustered. She was happy to 'oil' Hudson's little fantasies, as much for her own enjoyment as his, but she was a respectable mother with responsibilities, and the thought of acting like a trollop in front of others, was not something that Jennifer liked to contemplate. As the door to the games room opened, Jennifer immediately recognised the new visitors as two of the players she had watched at the game.