Tables Turned

As she did most summer Saturday afternoons, Patti first watered the plants and flowers in the back and then meandered to the side of the house. As she turned the corner, she inhaled sharply, then stopped in her tracks. Stretched out on a chaise-lounge, totally naked with his white ass exposed to the world, was Billy Deeds, who, single, had moved into his deceased parents' home just three months earlier.

It all came clear now: the numerous mornings when she'd pulled out of the driveway, hurrying to work, and there he stood, watering can or hose in hand, a big smile on his face, and clearly no underwear beneath the skimpiest of white shorts pulled up high enough as to allow a provocative crescent of ass-flesh to catch the attention of her eye, or, if he were so angled, to reveal the shape of his hard-on, its jello-like jiggle apparent with each step he took. Then there were--it was surely no coincidence, she now realized--the times she went into the den at night, flipped on a light, only to find, a few seconds later, that a corresponding light came on just across from her, and there stood Billy, "drying himself off" with a bath towel. This was the last straw.

Patti walked the several steps separating her yard from Billy's, then called his name sharply, causing him to start and jerk his head up to her direction.

"What is this, huh? What the fuck do you call this?"

He said nothing, giving her a startled look.

"You think you can just lay out here like this? You can't do this. I'm going inside to call the police."

"No! Wait! Please--please don't do that."

She had started to turn away from him and now swiveled back. Suppressing a smile, she slowly gave out, "Why not? I mean, why shouldn't I? You think I haven't noticed that every morning as I leave for work you just happen to be out in front of the house watering your plants, wearing shorts that barely cover your dick and ass?" She leaned down and moved her face in close to his, "You're a goddamned pervert, aren't you?"

"No. Really--I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry's not good enough. I think we all have to be protected from people like you. I'm going in to call the police."

Again he begged her to spare him that indignity.

"All right," she said. "I'll tell you what. I get home from work at five fifteen. My husband works late. I want to see you at my back door when I get here." She dropped a hand onto the middle of his back and let it slowly slide down the sun-warmed flesh until reaching the pleasing roundness of his ass on which she let her palm rest with the assurance of ownership.

"You'll follow me inside," she continued, "And you'll do everything I say or else I'll report you to the police and this little white ass'll really be fried. Got it?"

"Yes."

Her lips now close enough to his face that she could kiss him, she he broke into her most seductive smile and cooed as if talking to a child: "Little Billy looks scared. Poor Billy. He should be when he finds out what's waiting for him." Resuming her regular voice, she said, "See you at five fifteen."

"Follow me", she ordered, unlocking the back door and heading to the kitchen table. She dropped her purse onto it and collapsed onto the hard wood chair, sighing, "Oh, what a day." He stood before her uncertainly.

"There's wine in the fridge and a glass in that cabinet," she said, waving her arm to her left. "Pour me some and bring it to me."

Billy went to the refrigerator, got the wine, retrieved the goblet from the hutch, and, at the table, poured out a glass. He stood in front of her as she drank and then gave out a contented sigh, half whispering, "That's so much better." She took another deep gulp of the gold-tinged liquid, and, setting down the glass, shifted into a more relaxed posture in the stiff-backed chair.

"You may take my shoes off now," she said with eyes half-lidded.

Billy knelt and untied the black, casual shoes.

"Well, the socks, too, idiot! I mean, c'mon--do I have to spell out everything for you?"

Slowly he began to remove a sock. Suddenly he felt a sharp slap to the side of his head: "Hey! I asked you a question. Don't you ignore me when I ask you a question." "O.K.," he whispered.

"'O.K.'? O.K. what?"

He looked at her blankly.

"God, you're stupid on top of everything else. Whenever you speak to me, make sure you address me as 'mistress'. Got that?"

"Yes, mistress," he said, meekly.

"Good. Now you may remove my other sock."

"Yes, mistress."

"Kiss my feet," she ordered.

He bent his head down until his lips met her toes, and dutifully and carefully kissed each one and then, hearing nothing from her, continued to kiss over and over again, thinking that soon this madness would be over.

"Now lick them," she said.

He looked up at her. She opened her eyes and raged, "What are you, deaf, too?"

"No," he said in a tremulous voice.

"No, what?" she roared, smacking him across the cheek.

"No, mistress. Sorry. I'm sorry. I forgot."

"I don't think you'll forget again." She pushed his head down towards her feet.

After a few minutes she said, "You lick very well, but now I think I need you to come behind me and rub my neck and shoulders. It's been such a stressful day."

Billy got up and stood behind her and began to gently and carefully massage her neck and the top of her shoulders. She let out a soft moan of appreciation. He felt her soft flesh beneath the pink blouse and dark, navy blazer, and the bare skin of her thin neck was warm. The thought of how she would look naked began to fill his mind and with it, the idea that, eventually, he would get her into bed.

She lifted her empty goblet and said, "I need another glass of wine." Billy reached over and grabbed the bottle and poured out another glass for her, then resumed rubbing her shoulders and neck.

"That's enough," she suddenly ordered. "Now stand over there," she gestured to a spot a few feet in front of her. "Now look, we only have about an hour and half til my husband comes home, so we have to get going. Take off your shirt."

She watched as he pulled off his yellow athletic shirt and dropped it to the floor. He had a good build, with well-developed muscles and a nice summer tan. She let her gaze languidly cover every inch of his belly, hairless chest, arms, shoulders, and throat before finally meeting his eyes.

"Well," she said, "Why don't you flex and pose for me, like the good little boy you are?"

With awkward self-consciousness he bagan doing as instructed. After watching him a moment, Patti stretched her legs and, almost like an after thought, said, "Now let me see it from behind. I like a well-muscled back." She let him stand there as she took a few sips of wine. "Good." She stared into his eyes a long while before going on. "Now it's time to drop your shorts."

He brought his hands to his waist and, finding the elastic, pushed the shorts until they slid down his legs and he stood in his white briefs.

"Well?" she clucked. "I'm waiting," she sang, smiling with the delighted anticipation of someone reaching the moment of an eagerly-awaited show.

Averting his eyes from her face, he fingered the elastic band of his underpants then let them slip down, feeling an unfamiliar, sudden coolness where he was exposed.

Patti burst out with a laugh that seemed to bounce off the walls and ceiling. Billy felt himself blush; while it was true that he'd had an exhibitionist urge, he now felt a sudden humiliation so powerful as to bring tears to his eyes. He looked at her face, and, as he made eye contact, she laughed still harder; her cheeks flushed with color, and he saw her sky-blue eyes glistening with delighted mockery.

"OH, MY GOD!" she guffawed, "That? That's the little thing you've been trying to show off to me?"

Billy stood speechless, feeling the blood rush to his face again.

"All right," Patti said, almost gracious, still with a huge smile and pulling her feet up onto her chair so that her heels were up to her crotch with one leg lying out to the the side and the other perpendicular to her body. "All right," she said, "Come over here."

Billy took a step towards her.

"Is that close?" she shouted.

Billy scooted right up to her.

Patti smiled again as if she were having the greatest time of her life. Casually, she picked up the glass of wine and slowly lifted it to her lips, taking a slow sip of the cool liquid, then lifted her eyes to meet Billy's before setting the glass back on the table.

She reached a hand between his thighs and cupped his balls while with the fingers of the other hand, gently lifted the flaccid rod as if delicately separating two strips of meat. Like a pawnbroker asked for an appraisal, she jounced the balls in her one hand, as if trying to determine their weight, while twisting the limp penis first right and then left and then up. Slowly she lifted her gaze to him and with a look of supreme disgust said, "I can't do anything with this little thing. You disappoint me. You leave me no choice but to call the police and tell them I have a pervert in my house."

"No. Wait. Please!"

"Are you begging me?" she said with a crooked smile.

"Oh, please, yes, oh, yes, please!"

"Please what?"

"Please I'll do anything, my mistress."

Patti smiled fully, said nothing, turned to her left, picked up the glass of wine and drained the last sip.

"I think I need a refill," she ordered, extending her arm in an exageratedly theatrical gesture.

"Yes, my mistress."

When he returned with the glass of wine, she ordered him to turn his back to her.

"Well, you do have a nice ass." She took a sip. "Bend over."

She reached out and cupped one cheek, then the other.

"Very nice,' she whispered. "Now, you wouldn't mind pulling them apart for me, would you?"

"No."

"No, what!" she screamed, slapping his buttocks.

"No, my mistress."

Dutifully, he reached his hands back and did as he was ordered.

"Very clean." He could feel her breath against his ass. "Lie flat on your belly."

He did as he was ordered then felt her naked heel suddenly jammed between his buttocks, his genitals flattening uncomfortably against the floor.

"You won't even dream of moving an inch till I get back, will you?"

"No, my mistress," came the muffled cry.

Before he could even think, Patti had returned. She yanked his hands behind his back and handcuffed them together, then shackled his ankles. She pulled up his head by the hair and slipped a blindfold over his eyes and fastened it behind his head.

"Stand,' she ordered.

Suddenly she clamped a hand on his cock and balls; he screamed in agony as she roughly pulled him behind her. He heard a door shut as she released him to the ground where he collapsed in a whimper.

"You sit there!"

He identified the sound of her unzipping and slipping down her pants, then a moment later the gentler rustle of panties dropping. After a long silence, her female tinkling filled the air. It surprised him how long it lasted. Suddenly she grabbed him by the hair as she scooted to the edge of the seat and smashed his face into her pubic hair; he felt his nose crush up against her crotch, moistened and yielding its odor of fresh urine.

"Now lick me clean."

As he tasted her brine on his tongue, she patted his head and kept repeating, "Good boy. Yes, that's a good boy. Lick Mommy clean. There's a good boy. And for good measure, you better check out the back door." Suddenly her warm and soft bottom was pressed against his face; she reached back with hands and parted her cheeks then grabbed the back of his neck and drew him until nose and lips were pressing into her rear crevice, practically smothering him. "Now lick it clean, girl." He extended his tongue tip and ran it along the length of her crack before finally inserting it into the opening where a bitter juice dribbled onto his tongue. He felt the opening pucker, then a blast of wind made him pull away.

"Oops!" she giggled, "How unladylike. pardonemoi, Monsieur!"

Billy had recoiled with a gag.

She ordered him to stand, undid the cuffs and blindfold, and instructed him to go back into the kitchen, get dressed and meet her in the living room with the wine.

As he dressed, Billy felt relieved that this was finally over. He'd been humbled and humiliated and, like a little boy, he felt as though he'd been taught his lesson and would never misbehave again. As he grabbed the wine and headed for the living room, he noticed that Patti had put on some loud music with a heavy, driving beat, its throb unmistakably sexual. He entered the room and placed the wine on the table beside the couch on which she sat curled with her legs beneath her. So maybe this was a bizarre seduction after all, he thought.

"Stand over there," she said, pointing to a position a few feet in front of her, "and dance for me. I like to watch a man dance," she added, with a glow in her eye.

Billy did as he was told, self-consciously gyrating while Patti sipped her wine and watched him with a smile.

"C'mon, you can do better than that!" she urged him on until he was flailing his arms and swiveling his hips in uninhibited spasms.

"Now start to strip for me!"

When he was naked, she let out a whoop and a holler. "Now let me see you swing those hips! Oh, look at that cock--swing that meat side to side, baby!" As he did so, she let out a cheer. "C'mon--flip-flop that sausage up and down! Yeah--let me see how big it gets!" Billy felt his cock slowly swell with the movement and slap against his thighs until he was gyrating full force with a rock-solid erection and bouncing balls. Patti applauded then ordered him to turn around.

"Let me watch that ass in action!"

When the music suddenly stopped, Patti said, "O.K., now show me how you jerk-off."

He looked at her dumbfounded. "You do know how to do that?"

Ne nodded meekly and began stroking himself in front of her, slowly at first but soon his embarrassment gave way to the familiar, pleasurable sensation. His breathing deepened; he stroked faster and faster, his body beginning to buckle, and he let out a hoarse cry.

"Idiot!" Patti screamed, forcing him to stop instantly. "Did I give you permission to come?"

"No," he said, out of breath.

"You think I want you shooting your come all over my living room rug? What's wrong with you?" She ordered him to turn his back to her and get on all fours.

"This is how we punish bad boys," she said, smacking his ass three or four times with her bare hand. There was a pause and then he felt a paddle sting his buttocks until he cried out for her to stop. She ordered him to remain on his hands and knees as she pulled him by the hair into the bathroom.

"On your back!" she barked.

"Now in order to get a real good look at you, I think a shave is in order, don't you?" She grabbed a razor from the medicine chest and, sitting on his chest, began roughly shaving his pubic hair; he groaned when she nicked the sensitive skin and drew a drop of blood. She went downwards from the navel all the way to the root of his cock, then, lifting his balls with the fingertips of one hand, shaved the tender crotch and groin as Billy helplessly twitched in pain.

"There," she said, when she was done. "Clean as a babe. Look at that cock and set of balls with nothing covering them. What a hot sight!" Patti had him stand and bend over and she shaved the fuzz between his cheeks. "And just for the hell of it," she said, "lift your arms." When his armpits had been sheared, she put the razor back and poured some of her husband's aftershave in her palms. He yelped as the cool liquid burned his virgin-shaved skin.

"Now, do you mind if I ask you a very personal question?"

"No."

"Somehow I didn't think you would."

"After you come, how long does it take for that little pee-pee to get hard again?"

"About twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes. Do you know why I'm asking you?"

"No," came his voice, weakly.

"Well, I think I should get a good fuck out of this, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Somehow I knew you'd agree. But I think we need to empty you out first to make sure you'll last as long as I want." She reached under the bathroom sink and pulled out a green rubber glove and slipped her hand into it.

"This is so I don't have to give you the pleasure of my warm hand on you." She took the blindfold out of her pocket and affixed it and then handcuffed his hands behind his back. "Now, you are going to stand right there and squat down so I can aim your mess right into the toilet."

The cold rubber chafed his tender skin, bringing tears to his eyes; he begged her to take it off or at least use vasoline--anything--but she ignored him, even as the skin broke and bled. His breathing began to deepen and she ordered him to moan. "Oh, how I love the sound of a moaning man!" she cried, as his moans deepened.

"Now, as you come, tell me just how much you love what we're doing today."

She began to pump him rapidly while his groans grew louder and deeper; he let out a cry as his body jerked in an awkward spasm.

"Tell me!" she yelled, spanking his rigid ass muscles.

"Yes, I love it. . .loved it. . .today," he gasped, as she watched his come erupt into the toilet like little tadpoles swimming.

When he was finished, she led him, gloved hand still on his cock, into the bedroom where she undid the handcuffs only to tie him spread-eagled to the bed.

"Now you just wait here. Mommy feels a little dirty and needs to shower before she fucks you."

He heard her footsteps as she padded into the bedroom.

"My, my, would you look at that? A naked boy in my bed." She clucked her tongue. "I wonder where that present came from? Tell me something Billy, do you like to look at naked women?"

"Yes."

"I bet you do. When's the last time you were even with a naked woman?"

"Maybe three or four years."

"Not exactly a stud, are you. Is that why you like to show off your pee-pee? Well, I'm standing here all naked and dripping wet with my firm 36-Cs that make men's heads turn. As you'll never get to see them, you'll just have to imagine it. Right now my nipples are hard as marbles and beneath my blond pussy hair my lips are spread and pink and I'm just hot and oozing inside as a result of the good time I know you'll agree we had today. Such a shame you can't see me or touch me."

He heard the bed creak as she kneeled onto it and covered his body with hers. She began to rub her breasts back and forth over his genitals.

"Doesn't that feel good? Yes, I can see you're getting hard for me, just for me. Good. Very good." She took his penis and brushed its tip against her swelled nipples. Then she slipped a condom onto the chafed hard-on.

"Now for a ride," she whispered, straddling him, and letting out a moan as she put the penis inside of her. Keyed up as she was by the previous hour and a half, she came in an instant, crying out as the exquisite pleasure filled her body like a jolt of electricity. She rode him for half an hour, coming repeatedly, then, panting, with sweat dripping and pussy aching, she dismounted and lay back bside him.

"Oh, yes, lover. This was just the best sex I've had in a long, long time."

After she was silent a long while, he ventured "Mistress?"

"Did you say something?"

"Yes. Yes, mistress."

"Well?"

"I. . .I really have to go to the bathroom."

She said nothing, reveling, then finally asked, "Number one or number two?"

"Number one," he said, meekly. "You know. . .I came

. . .that first time. . .in the bathroom. . ."

She said nothing, but he heard her quickly dress. She then undid his chains and blindfold and ordered him to get on all fours beside her. She opened the drawer and removed a black leather collar studded with silver.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Did I give you persmission to speak?" She slapped his buttocks. "Did I?"