“Yes.” I answer calmly, and the fact that I didn’t distinguish which question I was answering wasn’t lost on her. She just sees no need in arguing with my madness apparently.
Dr. Hampton clicks the pen closed then places the pen and legal pad on the table beside her. “You made good progress today, Josh.” She rolls her eyes up towards me, giving me a cautious glance before continuing, “But I need you to prepare yourself for the next session. I’m very interested in knowing more about Drew Varney and the loyalty behind your friendship. I know Drew is a sensitive subject for you, but that’s why I’m forewarning you now, so you’ll know what to expect when you walk in this room next week.”
The fluorescent lights overhead flicker and the buzzing of electricity that sings from the fixture grates my nerves. Resting my arms beneath my head, I stare up at the brown stained ceiling, losing myself in thought of my past.
“Oooh, Joshua,” Mrs. Hager singsongs as she draws the Marlboro Light to her plump red lips, inhaling deeply as her eyes drift closed lustfully. “You were supposed to be here over an hour ago.” She states in a caustic tone, crossing one arm over her ample chest.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hager. Football practice, ya know.” I shrug, motioning to my sweat laden clothes.
“Hmmm, filthy….just the way I like ‘em. Too bad we don’t have much time to play before Mr. Hager gets home from work.” She coos, smashing the tip of the cigarette into the glass tray on the night stand. She crawls seductively down the length of the bed, then sits back on her haunches and crooks her finger, motioning me toward her.
My throat bobs with a nervous tension, but I reluctantly take a step forward, then another until I’m standing by the foot of the bed. She hooks her slender fingers into the waist band of my shorts, slipping them down my muscular thighs. She grins in delight when my raging hard on springs free, then immediately takes my cock into her mouth to taste.
Fisting my fingers into her hair, I pull her closer to me enjoying the sensation having my cock sucked off. It doesn’t take long before my balls tighten and my dick pulsates as I spray hot cum down Mrs. Hager’s throat. She sucks the length of my dick one final time, trailing her shaped nails over my sensitive balls before releasing me from her grasp.
She grins up at me proudly, wiping the corner of her mouth with the pad of her thumb. She sucks it clean then hops off the bed and struts into the bathroom. I steady
my breath momentarily before pulling my shorts back up over my ass. Sitting down on the edge of the bed I rake my fingers through my hair in frustration. This is fuckin’ sick as hell, yet I’m too weak, too scared to put an end to it all.
Mrs. Hager trots back into the bedroom and straddles her long, slender legs over my lap, grinding her hot pussy against me. “Elliott will be out of town Saturday. I expect you to be here at six pm sharp. Do you understand?”
I shake my head on a sigh, and she sits back on my knees, taking in the unsure expression on my face. “What’s that look?” She singsongs again as she tickles her fingers up my chest and I swear I hate the fuckin’ sound of her mousy little voice more and more. Hell, I’m beginning to fuckin’ hate everything about her in general.
“You’re too demanding.” I mutter, trying my damnedest to hide the break in my voice.
She jumps off my lap as if flames have crawled up her legs and looks at me offensively. “Demanding?” She questions. “Too demanding?” THWACK. The backside of her left hand crashes against my face and my head whips around with a snap. “You fuckin’ ungrateful little prick. I suck your dick dry, and you seriously have the balls to tell me I’m too demanding? A little high on our horse, now are we, Joshua?” She stares at me with dark, evil eyes as I rub my hand against my cheek. “Let me explain to you how this works. I’m your master. You will do whatever I wish, and when I feel as if you’re deserving of it, I’ll treat you just as I did today. But since you’re unappreciative to my overly generous affection, I can promise you it will be a very long while before I treat you again.
“Evelyn, it’s fuckin’ wrong. I’m fifteen. I swear to God if my mom found out the shit I was into with you, her best friend, she’d kill us both.” I huff out, trying to welcome the anger that’s boiling up in my stomach, but this woman has some sick twisted hold over me that I can’t quite explain.
“You fuckin’ asshole…I told you, you are to call me Mrs. Hager.” Her hand smashes against my cheek again, and it takes all the strength in me not to knock her on her skinny ass. She wraps her slender fingers around my jaw, forcing me to look into her deep-set dark orbs. “Now, as I was saying when you so rudely interrupted me. Saturday evening, you will be here promptly at six pm. I expect you clean shaven in all the appropriate places, primed and ready for the longest night of sexual pleasure you’ll ever receive. Do you understand my wishes, Joshua?” I nod as she smooshes my cheeks together roughly. “Such a good little puppy. I like you so much better when you’re quiet and submissive, not smarting off at the mouth like a fuckin’ bitch.” She smiles as she releases my face from her grip. “You may leave now. Elliott will be home soon, and I’m sure he’ll be displeased if he finds you in the house knowing that Chase isn’t home. We need not rise his suspicions.”
Don’t need to tell me twice. I stand up quickly, taking long strides out of the bedroom and through the hallway, trying to reach the front door quickly. I half expect Mrs. Hager to follow behind me, but I’m relieved when I turn around and she’s nowhere in sight. Twisting the door knob, I step out into the fresh fall air and exhale roughly. I haul ass up the sidewalk and laugh to myself when I see Mr. Hager’s Cadillac drive past me, knowing I made it out of their house in just the nick of time.
The walk home is slow and dreadful as I replay the last three months over and over. Mrs. Hager and my momma have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Hell, she even jokes when we’re *together*about changin’ my diapers as a baby and remembering the birthmark on my left ass cheek. Seriously, who the fuck does that shit. This fucked up mess started when Mr. Hager asked my momma if I’d be interested in mowing their lawn over the summer. I’d just turned fifteen and was always lookin’ for ways to make extra money. We were a middle class family, but my parents always made me bust ass to have anything unnecessary. Happy to have an opportunity at fast cash dangling in front of me, I agreed to take the job without second thought.
I was always curious what it’d feel like, to have a pussy wrapped tightly around my dick, milking every drop of cum from me. I expected my first time to be awkward, fumbling even. But the last pussy I expected to be ridin’ me was Mrs. Hager’s. I’d just finished with the yard work and was putting the tools away in the garage. Leaning over to place the leaf blower back on the bottom shelf where I’d found it, I felt a small hand cup my balls and squeeze from behind. I jumped, curse words flyin’ off my tongue, because I originally thought it was Chase, Mrs. Hager’s son, just bein’ a jokester as usual. Turning around I was shocked to find one very eager Mrs. Hager standing before me in a lime green g-sting bikini. Her golden tan glistened with a sheen of sweat from layin’ by the pool in the hot sun all morning long.
Taking a prowl like step towards me, she leaned in and whispered into my ear—“Ever been fucked by an older woman, Joshua?” I pinched my eyes closed and shook my head, because there was no fuckin’ way in hell this was happening. Apparently, she took my response as the green light to climb me like a fuckin’ tree, because that’s just what she did. From that point on, we were a mess of limbs as she shoved me back against the work bench stripping my pants down my legs. My cock sprang free and the glint of excitement in her eyes only spurred me on further. She straddled my legs, wrapping her legs around me tightly, sliding her hot pussy over my cock in one swift move. Holy fuck, she rode me like a fuckin’ Kentucky Derby stallion runnin’ the final race in the Triple Crown.
Just as my momentum would build up and my balls would tighten, she would slip off my thighs robbing me of my release. Fuckin’ tease she was. She was proving a point that she owned me in the moment, and only when she allowed it and was ready would I get off. Shoving her double D’s in my face, she tempted and teased at me. Tits…mother fuckin’ tits. What fifteen year old doesn’t love a set of double D’s in his face? Fuck if I know but I took my time familiarizing myself with each one. Becoming greedy in my actions I slid my fingers between her thighs, fingering her slick pussy as I sucked and nipped at her breasts. Shoving me back against the work bench she climbed up on my thighs one final time, slamming herself over me and rode me out until we both were squalling in release to the tops of our lungs. Panting for oxygen, I smiled to myself because this moment here was a fuckin’ dream-come-true.
I expected that day to be a once-in-a-lifetime event, but each week thereafter the fuck sessions continued, each one becoming a little more depraved as time went on. Whips and chains were a bit to her liking. In the beginning it was thrilling, just the fact that an older woman found me to be irresistible and was pleased breathlessly when I’d take her orders. Like a new toy, I wanted to play with her every chance I got, until one day she lost her luster. Something broke, maybe it was the humiliation of having my ass up in the air, while she sodomized me, milkin’ my prostate with a fuckin’ vibrator. Or maybe it was just the simple fact that I finally realized it was wrong.
Now, here we are months later and I’m finally beginning to hate myself for allowing this to continue. It’s fuckin’ sick. But I don’t know how to put a stop to it. She has a disgusting control over me and I’m worried that if I were to tell anyone else about it, she’d claim rape. I am bigger than her by at least a foot in height and a good hundred pounds in weight. Kinda hard for a small, defenseless female to control a strong teenage boy like myself – in others eyes. But it ain’t an issue of physical strength that she has over me. Fuck if I can explain it, it’s a mental control derived from her need to humiliate and abuse me. It’s sick that I’ve let it go on as long as I have, but I’m twisted up in this game of hers and I don’t know how to set myself free.
Chapter Four
Breathe sweetheart, just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You have to breathe for me Sav. Luke’s voice echoes through my mind, a reminder on loop each time I begin to feel the sudden panic attack squeezing tightly at my chest. They come more frequently now, sometimes over the silliest things.
The first one I remember experiencing was because I couldn’t get a stain out of the throw pillow. I scrubbed, scrubbed and scrubbed, but the harder I forced the bristles against the delicate fabric the flood of memories from Josh smashing a brush against my face surfaced to mind. I didn’t even realize it was a panic attack at the time. I remember sitting in the laundry room floor with the pillow clutched tightly to my chest sobbing endlessly, short breaths hiccupping in my throat as I stared at the scrub brush offensively – as if it was the very same brush I’d been assaulted with months ago.
The next panic attack I experienced was just a few weeks later. I had invited Carly Jo and her family along with Luke over for dinner. She’d been exhausted since the accident and the remaining weeks of her pregnancy proved most difficult. Dinner was almost ready as my guests arrived just a little early. Luke offered to help me, but I sent him to the living room with everyone else while I finished up in the kitchen. I placed the food in serving dishes and set the table, trying to keep the pace flowing while waiting on the rolls to brown. Realizing that people were waiting for me, panic began to creep inside my chest. Patience wasn’t Josh’s strong suit. Dinner was to be served promptly at six pm and not a second later. Luke found me in the kitchen spittin’ and sputterin’ with a stream of black, mascara-laced tears flowing down my cheeks as I banged the glass door of the oven begging it to cook faster. The funniest part of this panic attack is my dumbass had forgot to turn the oven on. No wonder the rolls were still their usual pasty white tone twenty minutes after I’d set them to bake.
Luke didn’t judge me for having a little fit. He pulled me away from the stove, tucking me close into his arms letting my tears soak into the soft cotton of his black tee. “Breathe sweetheart, just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. You have to breathe for me Sav.” He pleaded with me, brushing the tear-matted hair away from my face. I could hear the raw worry in his voice and tha
t comforted me. I listened to him, taking slow steady inhales until my breathing evened out.
After dinner that night, Luke insisted on staying behind to help me clean up. I knew why he wanted to stay, the helpless look of worry had been set deep in his eyes since he caught me banging on the oven just two hours earlier. But I wasn’t ready to discuss that – not with him. So, I set him to work on rinsing the dishes while I got the twins ready for bed, hoping one look at the stack of ceramic in the sink coated with leftover food would send him rushing out the door without a passing glance. But much to my surprise, not only did he rinse the dishes, he loaded the dishwasher, wiped the counters and mopped the floor while I took my good ol’ sweet time reading Brailee and Braden a bedtime story.