The Neighbor Ch. 02

The Neighbor, Chapter 2

FemdomFanboy85

He fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair as the rest of the class turned to face him, awaiting his response. The greying professor smiled patiently at him as if to give him permission. Joseph shifted around in his seat and inhaled quietly. He hated being called on, but he was giving this his best. He had made a promise.

"Uhh," Joseph started quietly, "I think it's like a social commentary on how things were at the time. For women, I mean. She's... she's not willing to give in and just marry someone because of their money or reputation."

The professor's face, which almost seemed irrevocably accustomed to underwhelming contributions at this point in the semester, now brightened up at these words.

"Ah. So, you think Ms. Bennet was breaking with the common expectations of her class and gender in her society. Good. What do you think she might be hoping for instead?"

"Love," another student suddenly chimed in after a brief silence.

"Yeah," Joseph continued. "Or someone smart enough to keep up."

Low laughter erupted from the class at this suggestion. The teacher tilted his head in amused assent, before glancing at the clock on the wall. It was that time again. No matter how reliable you were about wrapping things up on time, the students would always let you know the hour was approaching with the slightly premature yet familiar noise of dozens of books closing, notebooks being shuffled away, and bags being unzipped and zipped again.

"Let's hope we're all smart enough to keep up," the professor concluded with his usual wry wit. "Don't forget, you have a paper due Friday."

It was a strange feeling being back in college, Joseph thought as he rose from his chair and proceeded to leave. After high school, he had made the transition straight away, not even bothering to take a gap year like so many of his friends. Three years and a couple changes to his major later, and Joseph ran out of steam. Less than a year ago, he had still been a college dropout, barely scraping by on inconsistent work while living at home. Now he was a student once more, even if his living situation remained unchanged.

There was definitely a feeling of accomplishment in that, though, especially since he was doing far better in his classes this time around. In a sense, it nearly felt like magic. Except he knew whose idea it had been, and it was not an idea he or his parents had come up with. It had come out like a spontaneous admission of guilt during one of those days he was over at her place, and it was to her place that he was now about to return.

When she proposed the idea to him, he hadn't been against it. But to suggest summer classes? That had felt a little mean.

Of course, the truth was that it wasn't doing him any good sitting around the house doing nothing. At first, he suspected that she had devised these plans to keep him out of her hair. Lonely boys become desperate boys sometimes. Slowly, he came to understand her reasoning was far more diabolical.

Tammy was a teacher herself. A Middle School teacher, to be precise. During the summer months, she had lots of free time on her hands. Joseph's parents worked during the day, all through the year. As it just so happened, Joseph's classes would usually end around two in the afternoon, leaving a good 3-4 hours before his folks would get home. With his part time job, Joseph would only work 4 or 5 days a week, too, which meant that on a day like today he had no obligations after school.

Well, almost no obligations. Did they count as obligations if you enjoyed them and looked forward to them with bated breath?

Besides, he and his parents had not been getting along well as of late. There were arguments and fights about how little he was helping around the house. He would turn to them for help when he ran out of money, which created its own set of issues. Having somewhere to go and get away for a little while was reassuring, even if it was right next door.

He pulled up in front of his house, turned off, exited, and locked the car, and then walked across the yard to ring the doorbell on his neighbor's house. A moment passed and she opened the door. She invited him in and shut it behind her.

By this point, he knew the routine well. The curtains in the front room were always drawn. A couple lamps would be on to allow just enough light in to set the mood. It had a calming effect to it that he never ceased to find comforting. Then his backpack would go on the chair beside the door. Next, his clothes had to come off.

As he went through these motions, she stood watching with a glass of water in one hand. Summer months were regularly hot. They were hot enough that he was often perspiring a little by the time he walked into her house. It wasn't all due to the heat, though.

During this time of year, Tammy liked to wear summer dresses. They were beautiful, brightly colored, and form fitting in a way that still left the right amount to the imagination. He had seen her in these many times over the years and they struck him the same way every time. They looked maternal to him, yet somehow youthful as well. It was a subtle contradiction that seemed targeted at him. Although surely that was just his imagination at play...

What wasn't imagined, however, was the necklace she wore every time she greeted him at the door like this. Dangling at the end of it, just above the curve of her breasts, was a little key.

He finished undressing and set his clothes neatly in a pile underneath the chair where his backpack was. Then he turned and faced her.

"Did it cause any problems today?" Tammy spoke up.

She reached between his legs and touched the chastity device clasped firmly around him.

"No, Mistress. It was a little uncomfortable sometimes, but it didn't pinch or anything."

To this, she rolled her eyes and chuckled. "I was asking about your penis, boy."

His cheeks flushed a light shade of red. He was beside himself at first when she had brought up having him wear the device to classes under his clothes. It had taken some persuasion before he agreed to it, but there was no question in his mind now that she knew what she was doing. It was so controlling and embarrassing in ways he'd never experienced.

"No, Mistress," Joseph corrected himself shyly. "It didn't cause any problems."

"Are you sure?" she teased. "You're a young man. The wind could hit you the right way and that little thing would get excited. That's why we keep you under control, don't we?"

"Y-yes, Mistress. I was good."

She stepped into his personal space and put her hand on his left cheek. It was blushing brighter now. Taking off her necklace, she used the key to unlock him from chastity. As soon as he was freed, he began stiffening.

"Shower," she instructed him, motioning down the hallway.

This was another part of the routine. She liked him clean. She liked to watch him, too. He headed down the hall into her bedroom, as she followed close behind. He turned into the bathroom, and then stepped into the shower. It was a large standalone shower, and there had been no shower curtain once she established this part of the routine.

Tammy leaned her back against the counter and folded her arms, watching him turn the water on and jump a little at the temperature. Ever since that night she caught him out in the rain in her backyard, she liked the image of him wet and cold. More importantly, she liked reminding him. So his showers were to be cold showers when he came over. In the heat of summer, he wasn't complaining.

It quickly put an end to his stiffening, too.

"How was school?" she asked.

"Good, Mistress."

"Are you keeping your grades up?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You're still liking your classes?"

"Yes, Mistress."

There was a brief pause. He had finished shampooing his hair and was now rubbing the soap over his body. He washed his penis and balls thoroughly in front of her. Then he turned his back on her and soaped up his buns, making sure to get between both cheeks. She attentively looked to make sure he was following his instructions. He was.

"You have a draft for me today?" Tammy said.

"Yes, Mistress."

"Am I going to be pleased with what I read?"

"Umm... yes, Mistress."

Hesitation. She didn't like that, even as cute as he could be when he hesitated. He should think about his work, but he shouldn't have to think about obeying her. She expected to be pleased without hesitation.

"Let's hope so," she added.

Stepping out of the shower, he stood on the mat on the floor, still dripping and starting to shiver a bit. His arms went to his sides and he waited for her direction.

"Turn around," she ordered him. "Slowly."

Quietly and gradually he turned on the mat, showing his freshly scrubbed body to her. Her green eyes seemed to glow as they scanned every nook and cranny. When she was satisfied, she pulled a towel from the rack nearby and handed it to him.

This routine always finished the same way. While he was drying off, she would interrupt him. She'd take the towel from him and drop it on the floor. Her hands would find their way to him, sometimes starting at his ass, other times his chest, or frequently just going right for his penis and balls. They always wound up at that last one either way. She would touch him, play with him, and tease him.

It reminded him of that time when he was caught outside, when she brought him in and undid his swim trunks. He was shaking in her hands a bit now. She kept distant enough to let him stay cold and shaking. With the tips of her fingers, she lifted the head of his penis up and let it fall unceremoniously back down.

"I guess I probably shouldn't worry about you around those college girls," she remarked, "even if I let you out of chastity."

He blinked nervously at her and color appeared in his cheeks again. She ran her fingernails across his balls and down between his cheeks, making him gasp and jerk in a startle. Then she closed her hand around his penis and testicles, moved closer, and kissed him on the lips.

"Mistress' small boy," she said. "Aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She let go of him and stepped back, sporting a grin that made his heart beat quicker. These afternoons with her were easily the best part of his week.

"Let's go have a look at your homework," she told him.

They walked back into the living room. He went over to his backpack on the chair, unzipped it, and pulled out a binder. He handed it to her as she sat on the couch, crossing her legs and putting them out in front of her. Joseph took an anxious breath and knelt down before her. He put his hands on her right foot and carefully removed her shoe. Then he did the same with her left foot.

She opened the binder and began going through it as he started massaging her feet. Pages ruffled and she kept her composure while he tended to her.

"You need to take better notes, boy," she advised him.

"Yes, Mistress."

"There's virtually no detail here. I expect to be able to follow along."

"Yes, Mistress. I'm sorry."

"You should be, but do better, too."

"Yes, Mistress."

He continued massaging her feet, careful not to lose his concentration while she was talking. This was such a power move, he realized. It was humiliating to him, but excited him so much that he often got hard while worshiping her feet like this. Feet were never really his thing, yet this didn't feel so much about feet. It felt more like raw submission. As if she had seen all those times he had made her the object of his fantasies and said, 'Is that right? If you're going to idolize me, then, let's make sure you do it from the proper place.'

"Is this your paper?" she questioned, holding it up and looking down to him.

"Yes, Mistress."

Her eyes switched to the paper in her hands as she began to read. Without looking up again, she instructed him: "Kiss."

Joseph took her left foot gently in both hands, then pressed his lips softly against the top of her foot. He went up around the ankle, down to her toes, and then lifted her foot up slightly and bent his head, drawing in a deep breath. This was one of those things that hit a nerve inside him. Footrubs and even kissing the top of someone's feet were one thing, but kissing the soles was a pretty subservient act in his mind. His lips touched the bottom of her foot and he got very quiet, his mind racing through emotions and thoughts.

"Where's your thesis statement?" Tammy inquired.

"Umm," Joseph mumbled, taking his lips off her feet for a moment. "It should be in the first paragraph, Mistress."

"Your thesis needs to explain what your paper is arguing. What conclusion are you trying to get to? What's the prompt you were given for this?"

"We were given some options."

"Which option did you choose?"

"Uhhh... compare and contrast the way men and women see marriage in the novel."

"That's not a thesis statement, boy," Tammy said in a mildly scolding tone. "You have to say something about what the difference is or what similarities there are."

"Okay, Mistress."

"Go back to massaging for a minute. I want you to tell me what you think you could use as a thesis here."

"Yes, Mistress," Joseph responded, rubbing her feet again and thinking. "I guess I could say men approach marriage as a convenience."

"Now there's an idea," she said encouragingly. "Expand on that."

"Men... look for wives to care for their kids... keep a clean home... help their social status..."

"Good. What about women?"

"Well, Elizabeth doesn't want to marry just for convenience. She wants love. Or someone that can keep up with her."

Joseph's eyes remained on Tammy's feet, as he went on massaging them. Briefly, Tammy looked up from the paper to watch Joseph.

"Keep up with her how?"

"Umm," Joseph mumbled again. "She's like an independent person. She seems smart, has a sense of humor, she can sing. Stuff like that."

"Do you think she should have settled?"

Joseph lost his train of thought at this, but quickly went back to the task at hand. After a second, he spoke up.

"You think she settled?"

"What happens when she winds up with the charming Mr. Darcy in the end?"

"She falls in love with him."

"Yes, but what changes?"

"Well... he kind of realizes his pride."

"Right, but where does this leave Elizabeth?" Tammy asked.

Joseph thought for a moment. "She becomes his wife and takes care of Pemberly."

"So has she accepted or rejected the marriage conventions of her time?"

"Huh. I guess she rejected some and accepted others."

Tammy smiled at this and leaned over to meet his gaze. "There's the beginnings of a good thesis statement. Now... lick."

He let out a sharp breath and bent down. She knew exactly how vulnerable this made him feel. It seemed that she had saved that instruction for precisely this point in their interactions. It was like an exclamation with which she cleverly dotted the end of the conversation. He couldn't help but think of it as his tongue touched the sole of her foot and worked its way around.

He was no Mr. Darcy. He was her submissive boy. Her toy, he thought. And yet taking such an interest in the life of a toy was unusual. Perhaps all it meant was that she was determined not to end up like Elizabeth. Or maybe it just indicated that she would be the only one making proposals around here. Proposals like the one that had sparked this very interaction.

She addressed a few other issues with his paper and then placed it back in the binder. Permission was given for him to stop worshiping her feet and return his binder to the backpack, which he did obediently. Next, she brushed off her lap and gestured for him to come over.

Yet another part of the routine. Every day he came to see her, he was over her lap before things escalated any further. Pleasing her feet was submissive, but this was probably the point in their routine when he felt the most naked and domesticated. Something in him had been delighted to learn that she wanted to make it a regular thing. Seeing her in her summer dresses also had the funny effect of making him want to be across her lap. There were gnawing questions in him, though, about what this meant to her.

As he laid over her lap, ass up on the couch, the question came out almost involuntarily. "Mistress, may I ask something?"

She calmly put her hand on his head and directed him to rest it on the couch. Curiosity was okay, but it was best that he be in his place and relaxed if he was going to ask some personal questions. Tammy's other hand caressed his bare bottom. As he moved a little under her, she quickly figured out that he indeed wanted to ask those questions.

"Yes, boy," she allowed, "as long as you stay calm and respectful, and you understand you aren't owed an answer."

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you."

"You may go ahead."

"Well," he started softly, "I've just sort of wondered. I get spanked a lot. W-why you do you like that?"

The stutter in his voice provoked her to squeeze his right butt cheek a bit. He could be so sweet sometimes. She would've considered declining to answer an intimate question like that, except he never complained or thought to ask before. He had trusted her and bent over for her plenty of times. She could just tell him she liked spanking his ass and it would be true. But it was more than that, and she suspected letting him in on some of it might even make the experience more pleasant.

"Do you think you can handle an honest answer, boy?" she replied.

"Yes, Mistress."

"I wasn't teasing the first time I spanked you. I do think it teaches you a lesson. I think it teaches discipline and motivates good behavior. You've done some things and acted in ways I don't want to encourage. I'm interested in breaking you of those bad habits."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Tammy put her fingers through his hair and looked him over. There was compassion in why she did these things, she thought. It would be difficult to explain to him, though. So she picked a different approach.

"Why don't you tell me how it feels to you?"

"Okay," he said, swallowing apprehensively. "It felt fun and hot at first... but the longer it's gone on and the more I think about it, the more real it seems. It's like... a hard lesson. It makes me feel like a kid. It makes me feel guilty. I dunno. I'm just..."

"You don't have to go any further if it's uncomfortable. Are you saying you want to stop?"

"No, Mistress."

Another silence filled the room. Joseph laid there fighting back the frustration and emotions he was feeling. Come on, he told himself, get it together. This was not the place to be doing this. In response, a quiet, tiny voice from deep down inside him asked, what better place is there?

"Fuck," he finally let out. "I don't know why it's hard to say. You know what I'm like. You know where I live, what I do, and how it bothers me. Being here brings that up for me. Every time. And you still..."

Tammy didn't need to see his face to hear the crack in his voice as it trailed off. She knew that tears would be welling up in his eyes. She knew that he'd been struggling with this. She'd been waiting for the dam to burst and now it had. She leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, taking it tenderly in her hands.

After a few seconds, she backed off again and petted the side of his head until it went back to resting on the couch comfortably.

"Joseph," she uttered in a firm and sincere tone, "I want you to listen to me carefully. You're here because you know it's where you need to be. I know the things you mentioned. I think you are undisciplined and need someone to guide you sometimes. There's nothing wrong with that at all. I'd rather someone accept that about themselves than deny it to pretend they're someone they're not. I introduced spanking because I believe it can help, and I think you agreed to it because you believe the same."