Obedience

[SoulPlane]

Chapter One

"Then into his hands went mine; and into my heart came he; and I walk in a light divine, the path I had feared to see. Obedience. By George MacDonald", said the voice of a sweet elderly lady.

The elderly woman was standing in front of class of high school students and appeared to be reading from a poetry book, much to the disinterest and lack of enthusiasm of her audience. Yet much to their delight, before she could utter another word, the school bell had rung.

"Thank god", one classmate in particular muttered under his breath before grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his back. "I thought she'd never shut up."

"Now remember students", she said, raising her voice in a way to draw attention to herself. "Your 2000 word essay on this poem is due next Friday and will be worth 10% of your final grade. I would advise that you take this seriously."  Then, with an indignant glance, in her eyes, she directed her attention towards the young man she had just observed muttering under his breath. "That goes doubly for you, Mr. Robinson."

"Yeah yeah", the young man muttered under his breath as he proceeded to join the flood of students exiting the classroom.

This young man was none other than Mark J. Robinson. Mark was a young 16 year old boy of average height (5'9), average hair (short and black) and slim weight (150 pounds). He sported a pair of glasses and tended to walk around in blue jeans and hoodies featuring symbols from his favorite anime series. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly one of the popular students, but that didn't appear to concern him. Not when he had his anime . . . and his video games, especially his video games.

"You up for some GTA online tonight, Mark?", a shorter and more pudgy student said before beginning to walk in pace with the young Robinson.

"You still play that shit, Nate?", he scoffed. "I think I'm gonna check out the new Call of Duty."

"Wow! You already got that?"

"I told my dad to pick it up this morning."

"Damn dude. Does your dad ever tell you no? What's your secret?"

"It's called being the only child", he shrugged. "Not much of a secret."

[. . .]

With the school day finally done and over with, Mark made his way home. As he walked up the driveway to his suburban house, he noticed a moving van a couple of lots down.

Of course a moving truck itself wasn't worth gawking it, but the items and materials that were being hauled out from the moving truck gave him some pause. A state of the art treadmill, a bench pressing bench, numerous different dumbbells of various shapes and sizes as well as a plethora of other fitness equipment. He pondered for several moments, wondering whether someone had been planning on opening up a gym next door.  Thoughts and pondering he quickly dismissed since it wouldn't make sense to open up a gym in a small suburban neighborhood like theirs. "Whatever", he shrugged before walking inside his own house.

He headed straight to his bedroom, slinging his backpack onto his bed and looking around for the new video game he had asked for. Nevertheless, it didn't appear to be anywhere in sight.

"Dad!", he yelled before marching out of his room with annoyed look in his eyes.

His father was, of course, in what appeared to be the study room; he was sitting at his desktop computer, fingers dancing across the keyboard, hard at work on what appeared to be lengthy and detailed spreadsheet. 

"Dad!", Mark yelled again before kicking the door to the study room open.

"M-mark", he stammered. "I didn't realize you were home." This was Dave Robinson; a middle aged man who very much looked like an older version of his son, only he was about two inches taller, dressed in casual business attire and definitely appeared to have a better work ethic.

"Yeah yeah", Mark scoffed. "Did you get my game?"

"Ah, yes I did; got it first thing this morning", he said before reaching into a drawer and pulling out a copy of the latest Call of Duty game.

Mark snatched it out of his hand and promptly left the room just as swiftly as he had come. But before he could take another step . . .

"Not so fast, dear", said a perky voice echoing from an adjoining room nearby.

To which Mark sighed, his annoyance festering by the minute. "Can't you see I'm kind of busy, mom?"

"You can play your games later", said a middle aged woman drawing near. She was none other than Barbara Robinson, the matriarch of the Robinson household. She was donned in polka-dot summer dress, had short curly blonde hair, a fairly slim figure, fairly toned legs and was fairly attractive overall. "Right now, we've gotta go greet the neighbor."

"What do you mean we?", Mark shot back. "Can't you go without me?"

"No. She's a new neighbor and she needs to know that she's welcome to be here."

To which Mark retorted while rolling his eyes, "You sure it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you're up for reelection as president of the homeowner's association?"

"Watch your mouth, young man!", she snapped while waiving her finger in front of the young man in a condescending fashion. "We are good neighbors and we're going to prove it!"

Notwithstanding Mark's protestations, all three Robinsons proceeded to walk several lots over to the house with moving truck out in front of it. Just as they began walking up that house's driveway, they noticed someone walking out from the front door and it wasn't one of the movers. Dave, Barbara and even Mark all practically gaped with their mouths wide open at what they saw.

It was a woman. Not just any woman of course, but a strikingly tall woman (6'1)  who may as well have been a modern day amazon. Perhaps it was the fact that she was wearing nothing besides a sports bra, a pair of gym and some sneakers, but every inch of her body was truly a sight to behold; 18 inch biceps, 18 inch calves, 36C chest, toned and proportioned musculature all throughout. And it wasn't just her muscles that caught one's eye, but her long and wavy brunette hair and her almost pristine skin. Even with her pristine skin, she was definitely in her early 40s.

"Can I . . . help you?", the woman said, looking somewhat startled by the Robinson family's gawking.

Barbara, being somewhat of a politician, quickly rebounded by clearing her throat and reaching out to shake her hand. "Sorry. I lost myself there for a moment. Where are my manners? I'm Barbara Robinson. I live a few houses down the street and this here is my family. We just wanted to welcome you into the neighborhood."

" Christy Dickson. And thank you, Barbara", she laughed while reciprocating his handshake. "From the look of things, this neighborhood is going to suit me just fine!"

"Nice to meet you, Christy. I'm Dave", Mr. Robinson said while also reaching out for a handshake. 

To which Christy jovially replied while reciprocating her handshake as well "A pleasure."

Christy then turned to Mark, quickly taking notice of the fact that he didn't appear to be as welcoming as his parents. With a small and subtle smirk having curved its way on her lips, however, she reached out to shake his hand anyway "Oh and who's this young man?"

". . . Mark", he said with utter disinterest. He had planned on reciprocating with an equally disinterested handshake, only for his eyes to widen as soon as Christy's hand had cupped his own. Suddenly, it felt as if his hand were being crushed by one of the many dumbbells he had seen hauled into her new house earlier. He gritted his teeth and did his best to hide the pain he was in, but he couldn't bare it for long.  He quickly tried to jerk away but noticed that his hand was pried in a vice-like grip. He glanced into Christy's eyes, noticing her continue to smile as if she were completely oblivious to the surge of pain he was feeling.

"Ooops", she said promptly releasing Mark from her grip. "Didn't realize how delicate you were, Mark", she laughed with the utmost sense of innocence in her voice.

To which Barba nodded and joined in on the laughter. "I've been trying to get him into sports or at least come with me to yoga, but you know how kids are these days with their playstations and  nintendos."

"I'll say", Christy chuckled. "We need to get him in the gym; get some meat on his bones. I know just the place he can start working out!"

"I might just take you up on that!", Barbara continued to laugh.

Mark yet again rolled his eyes. "Can we go now? I've got things to do."

"In a minute", Barbara replied with a quick scowl before turning her attention back to Christy. "So Christy, I don't know if you know this, but I'm actually president of the homeowner's association here; am also up for reelection. If there's anything me or my family can ever do to help you, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Homeowner's association, eh?", she said while rubbing the tip of her chin with her fingers. "You know . . . there might just be something you can do. If you don't mind, let me treat you and your family to dinner and we'll talk about it."

To which Barbara nodded her head. "That sounds just fine to me!"   

"Really mom?", Mark stewed. "Can't we do this some other time?"

"I don't mean to intrude", Christy added with a hint of concern in her voice. "If you all have other plans, we can—"

"Nonsense", Barbara replied after quickly giving her son a wicked glare . "We'd love to have dinner with you, right Dave?"

Mr. Robinson nodded his head without slightest hint of an objection towards his wife's idea. "Of course."

Barbara then glanced again towards her son "Right, Mark?"   

To which the young man rolled his eyes and sighed. "Whatever."

"Good" Christy grinned before gesturing the Robinsons to follow her inside. "The movers have sorted just about everything that needs to be sorted so makes yourselves at home!"

As they went inside the house, the family couldn't help but notice the litany of trophies, framed photos and awards decorating the living room. Bodybuilding competitions, lacrosse, cross-country and volleyball tournaments; there was an even a photo of a younger Christy standing tall in a United States marine corps uniform.

"Wow Christy", Barbara said while glancing her eyes around the living. "I didn't realize you were so . . . accomplished."

"What can I say?", she asked rhetorically with a smile on her face. "Dad was a jarhead and ever since I was a little girl, he always made sure I stayed busy. And lets face it: When you've got three siblings and you're the only girl, you kind of have to."

"Still, it's pretty impressive all the same", Barbara replied. "Your dad must be proud."

To which the amazon shrugged her shoulders in a nonchalant fashion. "Dad and I . . . aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. Nor is the rest of the family. It's kind of why I moved out here. I figured I'd get a fresh start."

"Well Christy, you're A-Okay in our book!", Barbara said before patting a caring hand on the amazon's well developed shoulder before glancing towards her husband and son. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes! Of course!", Dave nodded reassuringly.

"Huh? Oh yeah. Yeah sure", Mark added, more focused on the cell phone game that was currently occupying his attention.

"Is that right?", Christy grinned from ear to ear. "You know? I had some reservations about moving to a new neighborhood at first, but something tells me I'm going to fit in just fine."

From Mark's perspective, the next one and a half hours were nothing short of boring with both his mother and Christy talking at length about the homeowner's association and a litany of other topics; all while his father sat patiently nearby with the full extent of his contributions being to nod his head and sheepishly agree with whatever Barbara was saying.

Eventually, Christy had finished cooking the meal she had prepared; it was some kind of baked chicken and broccoli dish. As they all sat at the dinner table, Mark glanced over his plate and couldn't help but feel his stomach churn. A fact that did not escape the amazon's attention.

"Make sure to eat plenty", she playfully chuckled before walking up behind his chair and playfully tugging at his biceps . "Don't you want to get big and strong?"

To which Mark rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Like you? Sorry, but I don't do steroids."

"Mark Jonah Robinson!", Barbara spat with her eyes narrowed and her teeth gritting.

Christy, however, did not look the least bit offended. If anything, she continued to chuckle while raising her hand towards the mother, as if gesturing her to stop. "That's quite alright, Barbara. I was marine drill sergeant in the past; you'd be surprised at the number of people I've met like Mark in the past. Its given me a pretty thick skin. Mark here is a just a little self-conscious."

"Excuse me?", the teenager retorted while raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know how to put it any other way, Mark", she said as one of her hands slipped down from one of his biceps to one of his thighs, playfully squeezing in one quick and fluid motion.

"Hey!", Mark yelped , completely caught off guard by the quick and sudden squeeze; a small dash of pain and small dash of some other feeling he simply couldn't describe.

"But you're a bit too scrawny for a young man", the amazon added before walking away and taking a seat on the opposite side of the dinner table before shrugging her well defined shoulders. "And girls your age just don't find that attractive."

"Mom! Did you see that!?!", he asked, clearly having taken offense at Christy's maneuver on his leg. He could hardly believe it himself that this woman he barely knew would invade his personal space in such an open and obvious fashion just then.

"See what?", Barbara replied with a look of confusion in her eyes. What had happened to Mark had occurred beneath the table and thus not in plain sight. "All I see is you being rude to our new neighbor. And I'm not going to stand for it, young man.

With a look of utter disbelief, Mark then quickly shifted his attention to his father. "Dad! You saw what she did just now, didn't you?"

"Your mother's right, son", he shook his head. "You are getting a bit carried away with the rudeness."

The young man then looked back towards the amazon who had accosted him just then, increasingly indignant at how she had accosted him just then and how it appeared she was going to get away with it.

"That's it! I'm outta here!" Unable to believe how his parents had completely sided with a stranger over their own son, Mark promptly got up from his seat and stormed out the house.

"Mark, you get back here this instant! Do you hear me?!?", Barbara snarled out, looking as if she were ready to drag her son back into the house by force.

Nevertheless, Christy simply maintained a warm and innocent smile as if nothing had happened just then. "Now now. It's like I said: Mark is simply self-conscious. There's no need to be hard on the boy. It's clearly a sore subject for him. Let him vent out his frustrations. He'll come around."

Mark went straight to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him as he did while muttering out a multitude of expletives. He quickly did what many teenagers would do to vent out their frustrations; he booted up his PlayStation 4 and began playing his new Call of Duty game. And playing for hours on end, his focus being on nothing else but the fun of gunning other players down on multiplayer.
It wasn't until 10:00 that evening that he could hear his parents coming back, both in high esteem as they walked through the front door.

Barbara was holding her sides, laughing about that something that appeared to be hysterical "Christy sure does know how to tell a good story, doesn't she?"

"She sure does, dear", Dave chuckled aloud.

"We have got to do that with her more often", Barbara said, still laughing.

"Of course!", Dave said before walking towards the bathroom.

Before she could laugh any further, Barbara could feel her phone vibrating in her purse; clearly someone had just sent her a text message She reached for it, wondering who could be texting her  at that hour, but smiled upon seeing the name that popped up. "To think we had only exchanged numbers 10 minutes ago and we're already texting. I can tell we're going to be great friends!"

"Is that Christy?", Dave asked aloud from behind the bathroom door as the sound of the toilet flushing and sink water rinsing could be heard.

"Oh", Barbara frowned, clearly unenthusiastic about the text she had gotten.

Dave asked after walking out the bathroom. "What's wrong?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Seems Mark left his phone over at Christy's house. I swear. That boy needs to start being more responsible. I don't feel like dealing with him right now. Go tell him to go get his phone. And that he had better show respect if he knows what's good for him."

"Yes dear", Dave nodded before walking towards the young Richardson's room.

Mark, who had been half-listening to the conversation in the adjoining room while playing his game immediately set his controller down and proceeded to begin digging through his pockets. He was quite confident that he had placed his cellphone in his pocket just before Christy had finished cooking "dinner."

And much to Mark's surprise, his phone was nowhere to be found.  He looked all over his room, wondering if he might have simply dropped it, but he didn't see it anywhere.

"Mark", his father said while knocking on his door. "You left your phone at Christy's house. Your mother wants you to go get it and to be respectful when you do. Alright?"

"Yeah yeah", Mark sighed before opening the door.

Within minutes, he was at the amazon's front door, ringing the door bell while standing patiently outside. To even be standing at her door after what had happened at dinner earlier filled him with much revulsion and disgust, but he decided to just get it over with so he could get back to playing Call of Duty.

"The door's open!", shouted a voice from inside. "Just come in and have a seat at the couch. I'll be out in a minute."

With a quick and indignant shrug of his shoulders, Mark did just that; he opened the door and let himself in before sitting down at the couch.

As he waited for Christy to come out, he couldn't help but take a closer inspection at her framed photos throughout the living room. Perhaps it was only because he was too focused on playing cell phone games earlier, but he hadn't realized just how long Christy had been involved sports and physical fitness. In one photo that was set on the coffee table, she had to have been no more than 13 years of age, but was shown accepting a black belt from some kind of martial arts instructor. Even back then, she was pretty burly for a girl.Perhaps it was his interest in anime that beckoned his curiosity, but he nonetheless reached for this framed photo to get a closer look.

"That was for taekwondo fyi", said a voice nearby.

Mark swiftly turned around, completely caught off-guard by the person standing behind the couch all of the sudden. As he turned around, he could hardly believe his eyes. It was Christy of course, but she was donned in nothing more than a bathrobe.

"Sorry about the wait", she said while drying her hair with a towel. "Nothing gets you in the mood like a nice and hot shower."

"Yeah whatever." Mark got up from where he was sitting and looked the amazon dead in the eyes. "Just give me my phone back and I'll be out of here."

In one swift and fluid movement from her backhand, Mark found himself tumbling onto the floor. It all happened so quickly, he couldn't believe what had just happened, but the sudden stinging sensation in his left cheek was more than enough to establish that he didn't imagine what Christy had done just then. "The hell's your problem?"

"Awe, poor baby", she cooed with mock-politeness. "Does the little noodle-armed bitch's face hurt?"

A torrent of hate and rage swelled through the young Robinson as he heard her say this. He had always known better than to lay a hand on a woman, but this woman wasn't just any woman and she was asking for it. He clenched his fist, barely able to contain his frustration.

"Awe, now isn't that just precious", she continue to coo while maintain some sardonic veneer of sincerity. "Wah wah wah. Did I hurt the little bitch's feelings?"

Unable to withstand such mockery, Mark cut loose any apprehensions he had about hitting a woman and immediately swung his toward her stomach. Upon feeling his fist connect, he felt a small sense of satisfaction. But as he immediately looked up into the amazon's eyes, it was abundantly clear that his "attack" just now did nothing more than amuse her.

With no warning, she quickly backhanded him once more, this time hitting his other cheek and sending him tumbling back down to the floor.  "Wow . . . I knew you were a little bitch, but damn."

Mark looked up at his tormentor, more shocked at how ineffective his punch was as opposed the second backhanded bitch slap he just received. She had to have been wearing something, he thought -- - like maybe a bulletproof vest "What the fuck do you have under there?"

To  which Christy could not help but laugh out loud. "Are you serious?" Eager to burst his bubble, she threw off her bathrobe, revealing herself in all of her glory; she was donned in nothing more than a ebony black bikini, covering up only her most sensitive parts.

Upon seeing this, Mark gazed upon her with his mouth agape. What confounded him wasn't just how ineffective his punch was  to her abs, but how well developed her musculature was from head to toe. He and his parents had caught a glimpse when she was wearing her sports bra earlier, but they hadn't gotten to see her full figure; not like this. There was absolutely no hint of bodyfat, her abs looked as if one could grind meat on them and her veins were such that she had pushed herself to human limits without at all looking ridiculously out of proportion. Still, as surprised as he was about this amazon's figure, his gut instincts began to kick as he knew deep down that didn't stand a chance against her.

Mark quickly got up from where he had fallen down at and made a bee-line for the front door. But just as he was within arms reach of the door knob, he felt something tug at his arm and throw him into a wall nearby.

"And just where the fuck do you think you're going?", Christy laughed as she watched Mark writhe in pain in his slunken over state against the wall.

Mark again looked up towards the amazon, wondering why the hell she was intent on torturing him. At that point, it was clear to him that she wasn't going to let him leave the house. Desperately wondering how he was going to escape her clutches, he ran at her once again. Rather than aiming for him stomach this time, he aimed his punch at her lower jaw instead.

But before he could even land anything, he felt a sharp and sudden pain in his solar plexus.  She had kneed him in the stomach, causing Mark to slump over while holding his sides together in pain.

"Just for the record, I learned that one in Taekwondo", she said, still laughing.

With his fight or flight instincts going into overdrive, Mark once again made a run for it, only not towards the front the door this time. Upon seeing the direction he was running in, Christy simply continued to laugh. "Are you really that big of a little bitch? Just take it like a man!"

The young Robinson made his way into Christy's bedroom before looking her door with the conveniently placed deadbolt. He then frantically looked around for a way to escape. His first thought was the window, but he quickly abandoned that plan upon realizing that someone had placed inconveniently placed a several hundred pound armoire in front of it. He then looked around for a phone he could perhaps use to alert the place, but no phone was in sight and he could already hear Christy banging on the bedroom door.

"We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. By all means, please pick the hard way", she laughed with wicked glee.

Desperate beyond measure, Mark opened the doors to the closet. He didn't know what good hiding what do at this point, but he didn't feel like he had any other option. Right as he was about to step in, he noticed a litany of strange items in a box on the interior floor; handcuffs, a riding crop, blindfolds and several different long and leather like objects of varying sizes that he couldn't make out due to the lack of light in the closet. Still, this was no time get distracted. He immediately jump right in and closed the door behind him.

Within seconds,  the door to Christy's bedroom came flying down. She casually walked in and glanced around the immediate, grinning with wicked glee as she wondered where the young Robinson had scampered off to. "Lets see. Lets see. If I were a little bitch boy, where would I hide?"

The amazon placed her hands on her hips, strutting around the room as if this were all just one big game to her. "Would I hide . . . under the bed?", she said before lifting up the sheets and glancing there.

"Or how about . . . the armoire?", she said before quickly opening the doors to her wardrobe and seeing no trace of the young man in sight.

"Shit", Mark muttered under his breath. "What am I gonna do?"

"No No", she shook head with mock-disappointment. "Everyone knows that a tried and true bitch's favorite place to hide is . . .  IN THE CLOSET!" She slung open the closet doors, immediately grabbed  her victim and tossed him onto the bed as if he were a ragdoll

Mark tried to get up and make another run for it, but Christy had hopped right on top of him, making it clear that she had other plans

"Let . . . me . . . go", Mark yelped while desperately trying to escape the amazon's grasp. He struggled a great deal to the best of his ability, moving in every way he could, pushing her the best of his ability and making every effort to get her off of him, but it was all to no avail.

"That's right, bitch", she cooed. "Momma likes it when they tucker themselves out and struggle."

"I said let me go!", he screamed.

"Awe, you don't like it when I hold you down like this? Well then how about this!", she chuckled before maneuvering into a different position and wrapping her thick and long legs around the young man's torso.

"You're . . . crushing . . . . me", he barely muttered while  trying his hardest to unpry python like grip the amazon had snared him in.

Maintaining the same wicked grin, he simply gazed into Mark's eyes with satisfaction. "Apologize."

"W-what?", he gasped for air, confounded by what the amazon was asking.

"I said apologize", Christy said in a rather blunt tone of voice.

"I'm . . . sorry", he huffed, feeling his breath shorten with every passing moment.

"Apologize to them", she said before raising her arm flexing her biceps.

Mark could hardly believe she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting  "W-hat?"

"You insulted my muscles at dinner earlier. That they came from steroids. I think they deserve an apology."

Feeling his breath shorten and his life fading before his eyes, he did what he had to do. "Alright . . . I apologize to your muscles."

"Good boy", she cooed before easing up her grip.

Mark inhaled and exhaled a large breath of air, as if having swam up to the surface after having been plunged to the bottom of a lake.

"Now kiss them", Christy ordered.

"You're . . . you're kidding", Mark stammered.

"Do these muscles lie?", she said before reigniting her vice-like squeeze over the young man's torso.

To which he responded by quickly tapping her legs in defeat. "Okay okay." He lifted his head up, posturing himself to the best of his ability so that he might be able to do as the amazon ordered; he kissed the powerful thighs that had just sucked the life out of him moments earlier, hoping that this would be enough to finally get this madwoman to set him free.

"Good booooy", she cooed yet again, amused and delighted that her victim was finally giving her the respect she deserved.

As he continued to do this, she eased up her grip over his torso further and further . . . until escaped and Mark made a run for it. He darted off the bed and ran with all his might straight towards the hallway before his shirt collar tightening around his neck.

Christy had grabbed his hoodie from behind "Did you actually think that was going to work?"

"Fuck you!", he cried while trying to break away, tearing the seems at his shirt as he did.

"Why do kids even wear this shit? Honestly, it's an eyesore", she said while gazing up and down his outfit and take note of the Naruto symbol on the back. "Lets do something about that!"

She forcefully held him against the wall with one hand while pulling his hoodie off with the other. But she didn't stop there. She then ripped his t-shirt off in one fluid motion before tossing its remains on the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing?", he yelled.

But Christy paid her victim no heed, instead hurling him over her shoulder like a lightweight barrel and removing his shoes, socks and finally his blue jeans; she left him dangling in nothing but his Hanes underwear as she walked him back towards the bed.

Much to Mark's dismay, she sat down at the foot of the bed and bent him over knees. Of course, Mark yelled all kinds of expletives as she did this, but it got him nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.

"You bitch. If you don't let me go right now, I'll--- aaaaggghh!", he cried after the last word upon feeling a sharp and stinging pain on his posterior. "What are you doing?!"

"Clearly what your parents failed to do", the amazon said before swatting his tail once more with her bare hand.

"You're crazy! I swear. You'd better stop right now or----aaagggh!"

"Or what?", she chuckled in a mocking fashion. "Awe, are you cry gonna, Mark? Are you gonna cry about me just like you did at the dinner table earlier? Awe, boo hoo hoo. Wah wah wah. What good did that do you?"

"I'll . . . I'll go to the police! I'll tell---aagghh!"

"No, I don't think so", she chuckled before reaching for his underwear and ripping it clean off. "I know you're type all too well, bitch-boy."

"I'm warning you! If you don't let me go – AAGGH!"

"You see, I just so happen to know a little secret about bitch-boys like you, Mark", she laughed before blowing in his ear.

The amazon promptly lifted her victim off of her knee and threw him on the bed to the point where he was lying on his bed wide eagle spread. With a knowing grin having curved its way onto her lips, she gestured for Mark to look down south.  And as he looked down, he noticed that his teenage rod, though nothing to cry home about, was standing stiff and tall.

The sight of this merely made Christy grin even more. She pointed at it, as if it were nothing more than a side show or an exhibit at a museum, and  howled with laughter. "You see, no matters henceforth, you will know two things, Mark Robinson. 1) You're a complete and total bitch. And 2) You like being a complete and total bitch."

Mark found himself blushing a deep shade of red. Both the stiffening down south and the fact that a woman was laughing at it brought him deep shame. "F-fuck you!", he weakly cried out.

But Christy merely kept laughing before hopping back on top of him, holding his wrists down with her arms and his legs down with her calves.

"This must be twisting you up inside", she said, slowly but rhymatically grinding herself up against his small but stiffened member. "You've made it more than clear that you can't stand me and yet your body is telling me something else."

"But no . . ." She then moved up further towards his head, sitting on his chest, trapping his arms in place with her knees and hovering over him with a schoolgirl pin. "No such luck with me, kiddo."

"What . . .  are you doing?", Mark weakly cried. "No. Stop. Don't mmmff"

The amazon had planted his face firmly up against her womanhood, her bottom piece of her bikini being the only barrier that separated his lips from her most sensitive of parts. But even with that small fabric of clothing in the way, the taste and aroma was all the same and notably more than the young Robinson could handle. A fact that was not lost on his tormentor.

"Awe . . . isn't that just precious?", she cooed with wicked glee.  "You've never been with a woman before, have you? I suppose obsessing over all of those video games and anime is a good way to end up in that predicament."

"Mmmmfffm mmfffhmm mmmff", was all Mark could enunciate.

Christy began to push his her hips back and forth, actively keeping Mark's face pressed against her throughout. "There there. Let momma show you firsthand how to treat a woman."

The young Robinson tried to struggle, but it was nothing short of useless; he was completely within the amazon's power "Mmfff. Mmmff. Mmmmmffff"

"That's right", Christy huffed as she began to pick up the pace. "Right there, my little bitch. Just right there."

Mark didn't really know enough about woman; he knew about anime hijinks and even the occasional pornographic video on *****, but the actual experience was a different beast entirely and he was clearly being overwhelmed. He began tapping on the amazon's leg as he had done earlier, signifying that he had given up, but it was of no use. Christy was determined to have her way and nothing was going to stop that.

Her pace was getting faster and faster by the second; the intensity by which she was straddling against him was soaring higher and higher. Combined with her sheer strength and hip muscles, Mark slowly felt his consciousness on the verge of fading. But before he could pass out . . .

"YES . . . YES! OH . . . YES! FUCK . . . OH FUCK! YES!", Christy cried out as the flood waters finally breached the dam of intimacy. Her juices flooded all over Mark's face and even traveled down his throat. "Wow", she panted. "You might be a little bitch, but your face was definitely made for that."

Having gotten her feel, she got off of Mark's torso before getting up and walking towards her desk table nearby. She reached into the drawer, quickly revealing the whereabouts of Mark's phone.

Of course, Mark was not so quick to recuperate. He was stilllying on the bed, trying to figure out if he had just experienced a very bizarre nightmare.

"You can go now", Christy said before tossing his phone on his chest.  "I think I've more than made my point."

Surprisingly, Mark did not utter a word. No 'fuck you', no insults, no backtalk, no sass, no explicative of any sort. Instead, he simply grabbed his phone, quickly grabbed his discarded clothes and rushed out of the room.

As he left the amazon's house, he managed to slip his jeans, socks and shoes back on, but due to the torn state of his shirt, he had to make due with simply wearing his hoodie.

As he walked back into his own house, he sighed in relied upon realizing that his parents had already gone to bed. He walked straight into his room and closed his door behind him. He then shut the lights, hopped into his bed and dove right under his covers.

But he didn't immediately go to sleep. How could he after what he had just experienced? He realized that the amazon must've lifted his phone of him when she grabbed his leg at the dinner table earlier, but that was the least his of worries as he stared blankly at the ceiling, full of confused thoughts and uneasy feelings. A lot of shame. A lot of regret. A lot of pain. A lot of anger. And a lot of humiliation. He didn't know what he was going to do with these feelings, but one thing was for certain. He had a stiffening feeling in his underwear and he needed take care of it.

[SoulPlane]

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[ArkhamAsylum]

An interesting start. Well done.

[thebaron]

Nice female lead I hope she starts training the other ladies in Marks life.

[jhunter]

Looking forward to more. This story was easy on the eyes, so thank you for the format change.

[clineman123]

Well done, I can not wait for the next chapter!

[IAAPA]

Very nice! K+

[SoulPlane]

Thanks for the comments guys! Much appreciated!

[SoulPlane]

As the sun rose the next morning, Mark lied idly by in his bed with his eyes gazing upon the ceiling. Truth be told, he had not been able to get anymore than a couple of hours of sleep since his encounter with the new neighbor. He had found himself tossing and turning the entire night. He lied there well past 7:00 am and likely would've stayed in bed much longer if not for hearing the ringtone on his cellphone all of the sudden.

He got out of his bed, reached for his phone on the floor and looked to see who was calling him. "What do you want, Nate?"

"Dude", his short and pudgy friend said on the other line. "Where have you been? I didn't see you online last night. You usually go at it all night when its Friday."

"I . . ." The young Robinson paused for a moment, reflecting back on what had happened after 10:00 and why he went to bed afterwards. ". . . I was tired. Had a long day."

"Long day? You?", he laughed with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Good one. Anyways, just a heads up; right after you left school yesterday, I overhead Ms. Griffith offering extra credit to students in her AP class to help students who are on the verge of failing in our class."

"Great", Mark sighed. "Just what I need. When will that old bat learn to mind her damn business?"

"Oh, but it gets better, dude you'll never believe who got assigned to be your study buddy."

"Yeah, well a study-buddy is the last thing I need right now. Believe me."

"Not even if it were . . . Beverly McNight?"

To which Mark widened his eyes in shock and befuddlement. "You're shitting me. Are you serious?!?"

"Oh-ho-ho. Dead serious. You know what this means, right?"

"Dude, what about her boyfriend?"

"Where have you been? Everybody knows they broke up last week. Don't you see? You've been crushing on this girl since the 3rd grade. This is your chance!"

"I don't know man", Mark said, looking visibly flustered. "She is way out of my league. Besides, she barely even knows I exist."

"So? If she's having to help you with your essay, she'll get plenty of time to get to know you. This is your chance to put the moves on her!"

To which the young Robinson responded with a calm but reassuring sigh. "No, you're right. Fuck it. I'm taking a shot."

"Atta boy, man. Let me know how it goes!"

Mark hung the phone up with a content smile edged on his face. He didn't much care for the prospect of having someone help him with some dumb essay, but the prospect of having one-on-one time with someone he had carried a torch for throughout the past 7 years was enough to fill him with jubilation.

Without another moment's delay, he took a hot shower, brushed his teeth, threw on a fresh set of clothes and practically skipped straight to the kitchen, practically humming a lively tune as he did this. Things were going right. Things were going well. Things were finally looking up for the young Mark. J. Robinson.

"Morning mom", he chipperly said, having given a slight glance towards the dining table and noticing that his mother was sitting there with a fresh cup of coffee. The young Robison swiftly grabbed a bowl and a box of Cheerios out of the cabinet and additionally grabbed a carton of milk out of the refrigerator.

"Hmmmm. I see someone's in a good mood this morning", Barbara replied before taking a sip out of his cup.

"Are you kidding me?", Mark chuckled. "I feel . . . great?" It was upon uttering that last word that he had turned away from the refrigerator with his bowl of cereal in his hands and had gotten a full view of the dining table and who exactly was sitting at it. There was his mother of course, but there was also someone else sitting on the opposite end.

"Morning Mark", said the amazon the young Robinson had become all too acquainted with last night. She had a soft smile on her lips and had waved her hand in a warm and friendly manner. Unlike yesterday, she was wearing a white seamless long sleeve top and a black pair of yoga pants.

Of course, Mark looked as if he had seen a ghost. Suddenly, reality had come crashing back down on him. Despite the news he had gotten about Beverly McKnight, there was no getting around what had happened last night. "Um . . .  hi?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you", Barbara added, sensing some hint of her son's confusion. "Christy is gonna come with me to yoga this morning. After that, we're going to have brunch with one of her old friends.  Did you know she served in the same unit as Mayor Bradley? Talk about a small world."

". . . right", Mark replied with uncertainty in his voice, still not sure on how he was going to deal with this woman who essentially manhandled him last night.

"Is something the matter, Mark?", the amazon asked, the expression on her face indicating nothing but sincerity and concern. "You look a little off. Are you coming down with something?"

He looked deep into the amazon's eyes, searching for any hint of the woman he encountered last night, but he couldn't find a single trace. This unnerved him to a point that almost had him wondering if he really did hallucinate what had happened. "I'm . . . fine."

More interested in her other plans for the day, Barbara looked down at her watch and got up from her seat. "Well would you look at the time. We've gotta get going? Christy, I'm going to put on my yoga outfit. Will be ready to go in a little bit."

And so Mrs. Robinson did just that, not at all attuned to her son's predicament. The very instant she left  the room, Christy's demeanor changed a bit. Not quite as sadistic as she was last night, but nevertheless the domineering amazon who took pleasure in her strength and superiority. "Morning, my little bitch. Did you sleep well?"

Having completely lost his appetite by this point, Mark set his bowl of cereal down on the counter nearby. "What the hell do you want from me?"

To which Christy smirked ever so fiendishly. "Silly boy. If I wanted something from you, I would simply take it. Or do you need another demonstration like last night?"

Mark narrowed his eyes in defiance. "What happened last night is not going to happen again. Just leave me alone, all right?"

She chuckled at the suggestion. "You really don't understand how this is going to work, do you my little bitch?"

"I'm sorry?", Mark asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

"From here on out, you are my bitch. You will do as I tell you. There's really nothing else to it." Even though there were vulgarities coming out of the amazon's mouth, the way she had expressed it just then came across so elegantly; she stated it all as if she were simply speaking of simple and obvious facts even a child could comprehend.

Mark slowly found himself losing his temper again, but managed to take a deep breath before it overwhelmed him. He had already learned first hand  that his anger alone would not get him anywhere with an amazon such as this. He instead decided to appeal to reason. "Look, I'm willing to forget what happened last night, but you do know that what you did is technically against the law and that you could . . . like go to jail for a very long time if anyone ever found out about it, right?"

And perhaps to some people, hearing this would give them pause or make them think twice about their ways. Not Christy however. Not this amazon in particular. Rather than fret about what she had done or even rethink what she was doing, she simply laughed out loud in an openly boastful fashion. She then got up from her chair and walked towards the young Robinson.

"Wait, what are you doing?", he said with a bead of sweat running down his forehead.

But she merely walked closer with a boastful grin on her lips, not saying a word.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?", he cried. "My parents are in the house."

Still no words from the amazon as she simply took her time menacing closer and closer.

Mark began stepping back "I'm warning you. If they hear anything, they'll ---"

But before the young Robinson could utter another word, the amazon casually pushed him up against the refrigerator with one hand, turned him around with the other and enveloped his small figure with her burly one; he suddenly found his face pressed against the cool refrigerator as a warm supple muscular feminine form firmly  pressed into him from behind. "You never did answer me on how you slept last night", she huskily whispered into his ear with her lips no more than a centimeter away. "Did you sleep? Could you sleep? How much time did you spend playing with yourself I wonder? How hard was it not to cave into the temptation to come crawling back to my doorsteps begging for me to keep going?"

Mark didn't say anything. No words could come to mind. He was yet again overcome with the maelstrom of different feelings that had plagued him throughout the night. With a stunt like this in his own home, it was abundantly clear that she was not remotely concerned about the legalities of her behavior. The young man began to second guess himself, wondering if perhaps calling the police would really get him anywhere or if the amazon would simply outmaneuver him again as she did with his parents last night. If he did call the police and it backfired, would that simply cause her to torment him even more?

"Christy! I'm ready to go!", said a voice from a room further into the house.

"Saved by the bell it appears", she giggled before releasing the young Robinson from her hold.  She walked back to the dining table and grabbed what appeared to be a folded piece of paper out of her purse. "This is for you by the way."

"What's this?", Mark said after unfolding the paper and glancing over a long list of 'assignments' to put it lightly.

Christy slipped her purse straps over her broad and well-developed shoulder before walking out the front door. "I expect all of that to be done before 1:00 pm. The keys are under my door mat."

As Mark looked over the list, he could hardly believe how presumptuous the amazon appeared to be to actually expect him to do all of these tasks. "Vacuum her floors, clean her dishes, scrub the sinks, do her laundry, and a plethora of other tasks.

The young Robinson could only look on with frustration as the amazon and his mother both left the house and drove off as if all was well. He looked at the trashbin nearby, ever so tempted to toss this list of tasks into the place it belonged. Nevertheless, after what she had openly done in his own kitchen minutes earlier, he could not help but wonder how she would react were he to try defying her. Would it be another repeat of the humiliation he received last night? At this point, there was no telling what the amazon was capable of.

With a hard and heavy sigh, the young man relented. He had no intention of obeying her commands for long and swore to himself that he'd find a way to knock her off her high horse once and for all, but for now, he would need to play along with her.

With that, he walked right over to her house, letting himself in with the keys that had been placed under the door mat. As soon as he got inside, he noticed something that had not been present last night: Cameras; there was a surveillance camera placed in the corner of every room of the house except the two bathrooms.

Mark rubbed his chin with two of his fingers, pondering over whether this was Christy's way of insuring he wouldn't steal anything or if perhaps she simply wanted tp verify that he was indeed the one doing the cleaning.
With but a shrug of his shoulders, he abandoned that line of thought entirely and started with the kitchen. The dishes from that health dish she had prepared last night was sitting openly in the sink waiting to be washed and the trash from the plastic the ingredients had previously been stored in was littered all over the counter. It almost surprised him how diligent Christy was in being able to set up cameras so quickly yet still not taking the time to do some basic cleaning in the kitchen.

With a little elbow grease, the young Robinson managed to deep clean the kitchen. He then went off and did the same in the two bathrooms before vacuum cleaning the floor in living room as well as a small office room he had not previously seen.

Speaking of rooms he had not previously seen, he ventured into the exercise room. Looking around the room, he noticed 4 different 60 pound weights and two different 100 pound weights all hoisted on the bench press bar. He also noticed an incredibly worn punching bag hoisted up in the far corner. He had intended to walk in further inside to get a closer look at the bag only to trip over something and face vault to the floor all of the sudden.
As soon as he got up to see what he had tripped over, he noticed that it was a 50 pound dumbbell. It was then that he noticed dumbbells of similar weights and larger were scattered all across the room. Upon realizing this, he checked the task list once again to verify what the amazon had wanted him to do in here. "Fuck. She wants me to organize this entire fucking room?"

With another heavy sigh, Mark got to work. For someone of Christy's physical prowess, this would have been a simple task, but Mark was the exact opposite with his slim frame. He easily spent the upward portion of an hour placing each and every weight in the right place while taking a breather every several weights, but he did it. He collapsed on the floor upon finishing his task, but he was successful.

With but one more room to clean, he proceeded towards the bedroom. But just as he creeped his way past the door, his heart raced for a second as he glanced at the bed, almost as if reliving his traumatizing encounter last night as if he were an army veteran suffering from a case of post-dramatic stress disorder.

Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and ventured further into the room. The first thing that caught his attention was the door; he had recalled the amazon knocking it down last night, but it now looked as if it had never even come close to falling off its hinges. "Did she put this back up herself?", he wondered.

The next thing he noticed was that contrary to the ordeal he had experienced with the previous room, this  room was . . . spotless. The bed sheets had freshly been changed, the covers were folded to perfection and even the placement of the pillows were immaculate. Everything was fine except for one thing; Mark's eyes widened the instant he noticed it. There appeared to be a two piece ebony bikini sitting in the center of the bed. Obviously, it was the same bikini Christy had worn last night, but what wasn't so obvious was why it was sitting there in the center of the bed all by its lonesome when the amazon had clearly gone out of her way to make everything else in the bedroom pristine. "Is she fucking with me?", he thought to himself.

Rolling his eyes in indignation, Mark grabbed the discarded articles of loose clothing with the intention of throwing it into the washer machine. He had already thrown the shower towels she had used in there so this would finish up the laundry.

He walked into the laundry room with the bikini in hand, but paused just as he lifted it up high enough to drop it inside the circular bin. It was as that moment that he noticed something he had not noticed previously. Something that drew his attention the more he had paused in the moment. The two piece's velvet textures, its frilly fabric and its . . . aroma. Outside of last night, the young man had never been even remotely intimate with a woman and so it only followed that he had never been around one's umentionables before. He looked around the laundry room, making certain no one could see him and making equally certain that one of Christy's vaunted cameras was not within sight.

Upon verifying this and without even consciously choosing his next course of action, he pressed the ebony two piece against his nostrils, taking in its aroma for all it was worth. He did this for a full ten seconds until his better judgment was finally able to take hold. At that moment, he was reminded of the way the amazon had laughed at him last night upon confirming the stiffness in his under region. Being reminded of the shame he felt back then, he quickly threw the two piece into the washer machine and turned it on.

He then proceeded to bolt out of the amazon's house just as he had done last night. And just as soon as he stepped outside, his phone began ringing. "What do you want, dad?."

"I didn't know you were expecting company, Mark", Dave said with a polite chuckle.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well a little friend of yours from school is here. Something about an English assignment. I told her-"

"Oh my God! Dad, whatever you do, don't say ANYTHING to her. I'll be over there in a second."

Within an instant, it was as if Mark was radiating with renewed vigor and energy; even all those weights he had spent the better portion of an hour organizing could not hinder or derail him as he ran back to his house at full speed. As soon as he got to the front door, he came to an immediate halt, making sure that he at least looked decent before he went inside. He even went as far as to download a mirror phone app just so that he could make sure there was nothing on his face.

After taking a deep breath and exhaling as calmly as he could, he opened the door and saw someone sitting at the coach with her eyes glancing upon her cellphone. It was a girl with long radiating light and curly red hair that fell past her shoulders and light brown eyes matching the radiance of her hair. Her skin glistened such that she didn't need an ounce of makeup, though most would certainly swear up and down that that was exactly what she was wearing. Her breast were certainly well proportioned, not too big and certainly not too small either. What's more, she was slim and toned in all the places.

Even though Mark had mentally prepared himself for this moment, he found it difficult to say a word, but nonetheless managed to after a couple of seconds. "H-hi Beverly."

She immediately looked up at him, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. I was so busy filling out my job application, that I didn't realize you walked in."

Mark could fell his cheeks flustering. In his eyes, everything about this girl was pure perfection; her voice, her facial expressions, her mannerisms even the way she apologized made him blush. "Y-you're good. It's quite alright."

She stood up from where she had been sitting and held several notebooks in her arms , giving Mark a better view of what she was wearing; a white collared dress shirt and a gray office-setting dressed skirt. "Ms. Griffith asked me to come by and help you with your essay. Is now a bad time?"

"N-no", he stammered while doing his best to downplay his nervousness. "Now is fine."

"We should probably work on your computer. It'd be a lot easier that way."

"My computer . . ." Just as soon as she mentioned it, Mark was reminded of his search history folder as well as the plethora of suspect downloads he had stored on his desktop alone. ". . . is having problems. Blue screen of death and all that", he said with a nervous laugh.

"Hmm", she openly pondered. "My uncle knows a bit about computers. I'll call him right now. Whatever the problem is, I bet he can troubleshoot."

"No no", Mark said with a polite but nervous grin. "That won't be necessary. I've been thinking about getting a new computer anyway. Besides, we can just use the one in the study."

"You sure?", Beverly asked with a sympathetic look in her eyes. "It won't be any trouble."

"No, that will be quite alright. Could you  . . . wait here for just a minute?"

"Sure thing", she nodded with a cheerful look in her eyes. "Just let me know when you're ready."

Mark ran up to the study, practically barging through the door as soon as he was certain Beverly wasn't looking. "Dad!"

Dave of course was sitting at the computer much like he was yesterday. He once again appeared to be reviewing a litany of different spreadsheets. As soon as he noticed his son, he smiled with a pleased look in his eyes. "That girl out there . . . is she your?"

"Not yet!", the young Robinson interrupted. "But I'm working on it! We need to use the computer."

"This computer?", Dave asked, clearly confounded about the nature of his son's request. "But what about the new laptop in your room?"

"I . . . can't use that one!"

"Is something wrong with it? Bring it here and I'll take a look at it"

Mark rolled his eyes. "You don't get it, dad. I NEED this one and I need it NOW."

"Okay okay, but let me just save and exit out of my stuff here."

"Hurry up before she thinks something weird is going on!"

Dave did just as his son requested, hurriedly closing out of his software before getting out of his. Looking down upon the young Robinson, he gave him a thumbs up sign, "Good luck", before heading towards his bedroom.

Mark then peeked his head out of the study door and looked down the hallway to verify that Beverly was still there. "Computers ready!", he said with the utmost politeness.

With an affirmative nod of the head, the red headed beauty walked right into the room before taking a seat at the swivel chair at Mark's polite behest. "You sure you want to stand? You can sit here instead if you want."

"It's no trouble", the young Robinson smiled. "I prefer to learn from the master."

"Oh stop", she giggled with a polite and dismissive wave of the hand. "Anyways, Ms. Griffith prefers a lot of citations for scholarly articles in her essays. I figured we could start with looking through a couple of articles with google scholar before getting into how you're going to frame the actual essay itself."

"Sounds good to me", Mark chuckled, once again doing everything he could to downplay his nervousness. Despite his polite demeanor, the only words that were flashing through his mind was 'Don't screw this up.' And so he listened to her talk about multiple articles, back to back, briefly summarizing the merits of each one and how they would help with the essay on George MacDonald's poem. But the more he listened to her, the more he found himself enraptured in Beverly's innocent yet soothing voice. Unbeknownst to her, he had watched her from afar for years on end.

Although a lot of guys Mark's age lusted after cheerleaders, Mark's interest were somewhat more defined.  To Mark, Beverly was very smart, very beautiful, very funny and a very good person to be around. To him, just being around her filled the room with positive energy. To him, if there was anyone in the world that could make him happy, it was this girl sitting at the desk.

"—and based on all of that, I'd recommend using something similar to this example as your thesis statement. Does that make sense, Mark?"

"Um . . .", he suddenly realized that his thoughts and fantasies about the girl had inadvertently caused him to tune her out. "I . . . I think I get it, but . . . did you say you were working on your job application earlier?"

"That's right", she nodded. "I'm trying to get a summer internship at a law firm. Everyones telling me you need a pretty strong resume to get into Harvard so I'm doing everything I can to pad mine out."

"They'd have to be crazy not to let you in",

"Awe, you're sweet to say that", Beverly continued to maintain her cheerfully innocent smile. "I hope I can get in. "My parents have been talking about wanting to see me get into an ivy league school since the 3rd grade. They always like to talk about how I'll be the first ivy leaguer in the family."

"W-well Beverly", Mark stammered, trying to parse the words he desperately wanted to say. "In all honesty, I think you're—"

But alas, before he could utter another word, the door to the study had swung wide open. "Mark, be a dear and come help Christy get the groceries out of the trunk." It was his mom Barbara and she appeared to be holding a brown sack bag of groceries in her hands.

Mark had just about muttered an explicative under his breath before remembering that Beverly was sitting near him. Letting out a quick sigh, he turned to the gorgeous redhead. "Hey Beverly, d-d-do you think it'd be alright if we continued this at another time? I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"That's not a problem", she said. "Just text me and we can pick up where we left off at another time."

"You must be one of Mark's friends", Barbara chipperly said before setting her bag of groceries on the office desk. "I'm Mark's mom: Barbara. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The red haired beauty picked up her notebooks and got up from the desk chair, "I'm Beverly McKnight. And it's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Robinson."

"Beverly McKnight?", Barbara remarked, as if having realized something. "As in Rick and Debra McKnight's little girl?"

The redhead looked a little taken aback. "You know my parents?"

"Of course I do, silly", she giggled before nudging the girl with her elbow. "I've only been going to Debra's yoga class for the past five years. I saw her this morning in fact. Let her know I said hi."

"Will do!" Beverly nodded her before writing her phone number on a small piece of paper and handing it to the young Robinson. "Don't forget to text me, Mark. Bye!"

"Bye", Mark said while sheepishly waving his hand with a big and dumb grin on his face.

The young Robinson turned towards his mother, half-expecting her to have all sorts of questions about what this girl was doing at their house, whether he was trying to pursue her and whether this meant there would be grandchildren sometime in the future after all. Instead, Barbara had only this to say the instant Beverly left the room. "Now look, I need you to be on your best behavior around that girl, got it? I have known Debra for years and she has a lot of sway in this neighborhood. Don't do anything to offend her daughter or so help me I'll—"

"Yeah yeah", Mark rolled his eyes before walking out of the room. "Wouldn't wanna mess up your precious position with the homeowner's association."

As soon as he walked out the room, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that he needed to go help Christy get the groceries out of the car. The thought of her needing help with something like groceries came across as absurd to him; perhaps this was simply another one of his mother's attempts at being "neighborly." Whatever the case, he finally had Beverly McKnight's phone number and nothing was going to rain on his parade. Not his mother's obsession with political power and most certainly not the amazon's desire to torment him.

Upon getting outside, he noticed that his mother's SUV was parked backwards on the driveway.  His heart stirred a little however as he noticed who was standing next to the SUV, chatting without a care in the world.
". . . I started physical fitness when I was 8 and got into bodybuilding when I was 15", Christy said, apparently in the middle of a conversation with Beverly.

"That's pretty neat!", the red head replied with curiosity in her eyes. "And you were in the army too?"

"Marines", the amazon giggled. "But everybody makes that mistake."

"Um . . . hi?", Mark said, not sure of how to otherwise interject his way into the conversation.

To which Beverly replied, "Oh, hey Mark. You're new neighbor was just telling me how welcoming your family has been. Especially you."

"Yeah . . . that's me . . . super helpful", the young Robinson remarked while sheepishly rubbing the back of his head with a reluctant grin on his face.

"Ah, now don't be modest,  Mark", the amazon said before playfully punching the young man in the arm. "After all, you did clean my house this morning."

Despite the playful nature of the blow to his arm just now, Mark couldn't help but wince in the pain of it. Nevertheless, with Beverly watching, he played it off to the best of his ability as if nothing had just happened.

"That's so sweet", Beverly said, still smiling. "Well, I'll see you around, Mark. Just text me when you're ready to continue with that essay!"

The young man made sure to keep smiling and waving as his long time crush walked away, only to yelp in pain as soon as she was out of sight. He then looked back to an otherwise amused Christy, "Why'd you do that?"

"Now isn't that just precious?", the amazon asked, while curiously twirling her index finger through her long brunette hair.

"What are you talking about this time?", Mark spat back, still annoyed at the way she punched him in the arm.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were head over hills for that girl."

"What?", Mark asked before narrowing his eyes. "You're crazy."

To which Christy giggled, "And you're a terrible liar."

"Think whatever you like", he said before grabbing what appeared to be the remaining bags of groceries in the back of his mother's SUV.
"By the way, did you like the little present I left you this morning?"

He paused for a moment as if caught off guard before rolling his eyes and  saying "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Ah, so you did like it", she continued giggling, as if the young Robinson were completely and utterly transparent before her eyes. "I knew organizing all of those barbels would be exhausting for your delicate frame so I decided to leave you a little reward for your troubles."

"Yeah right", he scoffed before walking towards the front door. "If you wanted to leave me a reward, you should have left me a barf bag."

"Talk all the shit you like, my little bitch", she laughed aloud as she began to walk away and back towards her house. "It's going to make breaking you in all the sweeter.

To which Mark sighed before finally heading inside. As he went to set the groceries down in the kitchen, he noticed his father was already hard at work in putting the groceries up, sorting the meat in the refrigerator, the buns in the pantry and the frozen dinners in the freezer.

"So . . .", Dave said with a curious smile on his face, ". . . how did things go with Beverly?"

"Oh . . . I'm still working on it", Mark shrugged. "I've got her phone number at least."

"That's great! So . . . when are you going to call her?"

To which Mark sighed. "One step at a time, dad."

"I saw her and Christy talking before you walked out there. Maybe you can get Christy to be your wingman—err woman---next time!", Dave remarked with a playful look in his eye.
Mark once again sighed in frustration. "Yeah . . . that's not going to work."

Sensing that something was off, Dave promptly walked up and patted his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Something you wanna talk about, son?"

"You . . .  you wouldn't understand."

Dave pushed his glasses up his nose as if to straighten and adjust them. "Mark, I was 16 years old once as well. If there's anything you're going through, chances are that I've been there as well."
The young man sighed with introspection for a moment, wondering if he ought to say what was on his mind. Nevertheless, with what happened to him the previous night, that morning and just a few minutes ago out the in
the driveway, a part of him knew he had to do something or else there was no telling when it would all end. "It's about Christy . . ."

"Christy?", Dave said, his eyes widening. "The new neighbor? What's she have to do with this?"

"She puts on a nice front in front of you and mom, but . . . she's not as nice as she seems."

"Is this about what happened at dinner last night?", Dave asked while raising an eyebrow.

"That's part of it, but . . . isn't the whole story."

"Well like I said; I'm your father and you can tell me anything."

Mark sighed once more, not even beginning to know where to begin with what had transpired. He thought about just blurting it all out, but went back to wondering if it would even do him any good; wondering if his dad would even believe something so outlandish; even he could hardly believe it. "Christy's been . . . bullying me."

"Bullying you?", Dave asked, immediately looking skeptical. "She didn't seem that way the other night or this morning."

"You saw her talking to Christy outside. Did you not see her punch me in the arm as well?"

"It looked like she was just playing around to be honest."

"She wasn't."

"I dunno, Mark. Are you sure you aren't just being oversensitive?"

"Dad, she's been making fun of me since yesterday."

"Are you talking about what she said at the dinner table?"

"No, dad. It's like she waits until you guys aren't around and starts calling me something like noodle arms or . . . little bitch."

"She called you that?", Dave exclaimed with his eyes widening. "But why would she—"

"Because she's a bully, dad!"

"Well . . .", Dave paused and looked into his son's eyes for a moment. He definitely couldn't see any indication that Mark was lying. Rather, he was clearly upset. And not in the way that he would otherwise would be for something more trivial like not getting his new video game on time. ". . . okay."

"Okay?", the young Robinson asked with a look of uncertainty in his eyes. "What do you mean by okay."

Dave let out a long sigh "Even though it sounds farfetched . . . I believe you."

"You do?", Mark asked, with hope beaming in his eyes.

To which Dave replied by wrapping his arms around the young man. "You're my son. And that will never change no matter how old you get."

Mark had a look of mixed embarrassment in his eyes--much like most young men his age would have upon being coddled by their parents, "Awe dad, c'mon geeze."

"I've got some work to do on the computer now, but once I get done, I'm marching right over to Christy's house and I am going to get to the bottom of this. Alright?"

Mark nodded his head and returned his father's embrace. "Thanks dad."

[. . . ]

Several hours passed. And sure enough, just as the sun was about to go down, Dave finished his work, got right up from his desk chair, took one good look in the bathroom mirror, took a deep breath as if to bolster himself up and said "Alright . . . you're a man, Dave. You can do this!"

He walked right out of his house and down the street towards Christy's lot, eyes brimming with determination. Though he loathed conflict and typically did everything he could to avoid it, he was not about to let his son down. "You're a man, Dave! You can do this! You can do this! You can do this!"

Wasting no time, he walked right up Christy's driveway and marched right up to her door, Upon taking a deep breath and puffing his chest up to the best of his ability, Dave tapped the doorbell. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed before he heard the door opening.

"Dave?", asked the amazon as she opened the door, donned in what appeared to be an ebony backless sleeveless mini dress as well as a pair of ebony ballet flats. "Is everything alright?"

"Christy", the older Robinson responded, somewhat taken aback by what she was wearing. "Are you . . . in the middle of something?"

"As a matter of fact, I plan on heading out in a little while with some new friends I met at yoga this morning."

"Well I had a conversation with Mark earlier and I wanted to talk about it."

"Mark?", she said, looking surprised and concerned. "Did something happen to him?"

Dave gave her a confounded look for a moment, having half-expected her to get angry or perhaps fretful about the fact that he was confronting her about the way she had treated his son. "Well . . . yeah. Something did happen between you and him when you were at our house earlier"

To which Christy responded with a look of sincere concern in her eyes. "Oh my God. I hope I didn't do something to offend the boy."

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Well if there's anything I can do to clear up any confusion between Mark and I, I would be more than happy to do it. In fact, why don't we talk inside so you can tell me all about it."

"Um . . . okay", Dave nodded, looking somewhat pleased with how he was handling things thus far. He walked into the house as she closed the door behind him and took a seat at the couch in the living room

The amazon reached into the bathroom to grab a brush, a bottle of lotion and a necklace that had been sitting on the counter before stepping forward and sitting a full cushion away from the older Robinson. "So---what happened?", she asked as she began brushing her hair.

Dave sighed as he gathered his words. He didn't enjoy confrontation and was hoping to address this subject in a way that would not invite any anger or debate. "Well . . . I noticed you punch Mark in the arm earlier. At first, I thought it was playful, but upon talking to Mark, he tells me you were trying to hurt him."

Christy crossed one of her toned muscular legs over the other, her well-developed 18 inch right calve on full display. "Trying to hurt him?"

Dave removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before putting them back on. "Yes, and he also tells me you've been constantly making demeaning comments around him about his size."

Christy began applying the lotion on her thick legs, stroking her hands up and down . . . up and down . . . up and down . . . up and down . . . in a simple but intriguing fashion. "What kind of comments.

The middle aged man once again removed his glasses and took a moment to rub his eyes before responding and putting them back on. "Well . . . noodle arms for one."

Christy proceeded to take off her ballet flat on her right leg, exposing her pedicured size 11 foot on full display. "Noodle arms?", she said sounding taken aback as she began applying lotion to the top side of her foot. "What else?"

"Sorry", Dave said before once again rubbing his eyes, this time without actually taking his glasses off. ". . . he says you called him a  . . . and pardon my language, but he said you called him a bitch."

"A bitch? Good heavens!", Christy gasped before applying the lotion to every nook and cranny of her sole. "Did he say I called him anything else?

"Well . . . no", Dave replied before once again rubbing his eyes. "But you have to realize that what was said is a problem."

"Uh-huh", she nodded before scooting one cushion over towards the older Robinson, handing him the necklace she had grabbed out of the bathroom and turning her torso just enough to show her back. "Would you mind? I hate how they make these things. Practically requires two people just for one person to put it on."

"C-certainly", Dave stammered before reaching against Christy's neck with the necklace in hand.

"Go on. I'm still listening."

"Y-yes. Why of course", he again stammered while trying to hook the back end of the necklace just right. around the back of her neck. "I understand you're new to the neighborhood and no one's judging you for the way you might have done things in your old neighborhood, but . . ."

"And when you're done with that, would you mind applying some lotion back there as well? Sorry!", she giggled.

He finally managed to snap her necklace into place before grabbing the lotion bottle in a hesitant fashion. "Y-y-yes, sure."

"And sorry to keep interrupting you, but you can go on. I'm listening."

"R-r-right, well I can't have you bullying my----oh my, w-w-what is this?"

"Sorry", Christy giggled. "Call it a nervous reaction, but I tend to flex whenever cold lotion goes on my back."

"It's quite alright." Dave glanced over her back muscles and couldn't help but feel mystified by their shape and texture. They were all so perfectly sharp and rigid. He had never seen anything like this before, much less on a woman.

Once he was done applying the lotion on her back, Christy turned her head to face him directly. "So Mark does not like the things I've been saying to him and you would like for me to do something about it. Does that sound about right?"

"Y-yes", Dave nodded with some hint of hesitation.

To which the amazon then smirked before slowly yet playfully walking two of her fingers, middle and index up from his hand, to his arm, to his shoulder, to his neck. "And if I say 'no' . . . what happens then?"

"Well . . . I . . . . uh . . . . excuse me?", he said with those hints of hesitation becoming more obvious with every syllable.

Moving a little closer to the middle aged man, she proceeded to blow into his ear and speak in a more whispery tone of voice. "If I say I'm going to deal with your son as I see fit, what will you do about it?"

"W-well . . . obviously, I would have to . . . uh . . . uh"

With a soft giggle, she began prancing those two walking fingers from his neck down to his chest. "If it's so obvious, just say it. What will you do about it, Dave?"

"L-look . . . you can't  . . . uh . . . you can't . . ."

She blew into his ear again, maintaining the same hushed tone as her prancing fingers made their way from his chest, down to his stomach. "Yes, I can't what? Go ahead and say it. Don't be shy."

"Okay . . . I have to . . . I can't . . . I can't stay here . . ."

Her prancing fingers made their way down from his stomach to his thighs. "Then why are you still here? I'm not stopping you."

Dave began sweating; his heart started to race. "What . . . what are you doing?"

She brushed her tongue across the interior of his ear. "Why don't you ask yourself that question?"

"Sorry, but . . . I'm a married man. We can't . . . I can't do this."

Her prancing fingers began dusting their way down to his inner thighs, occasionally and lightly brushing against what could only be a stiff and rigid tent pole hoisting up a pair of khakis. "Last chance: Why are you still here?"

"I . . .  I don't have an answer for that question."

"Then let me help you find one", she whispered before cradling him closer and giving him a soft and affectionate peck on the head. She proceeded to get up from the couch and walk in front of it before pointing to the area of the floor next to her. Then, in a calm but normal tone of voice, she said "Get on your knees."

Dave sheepishly nodded his head before getting up from where he was sitting and kneeling down just as the amazon demanded.

"You like these legs, don't you?"

He sheepishly nodded his head.

"You've not been able to take your eyes off them since you came in, haven't you?

He sheepishly nodded his head.

"You want to feel them, don't you?"

He sheepishly nodded his head.

"You want to worship them, don't you?"

He sheepishly nodded his head.

"Then pay your respects."

He sheepishly nodded his head once more before sliding and clasping his fingers all around these pillars of muscle, exploring every feature he could lay his hands on like a child exploring a toy store.

All the while, the amazon smirked with satisfaction as she gazed upon the sight of this. "Kiss them."

And unlike the younger Robinson, Dave didn't need to be told twice. He reverently kissed as much as he could kiss, dancing his tongue across the parts that allured him the most, showing both sets of legs and calves equal attention.

"You're rather good at this", she giggled before walking back to the couch and taking a seat. She gestured him to come closer with her index finger curling.

He sheepishly nodded his head before doing just that  while still maneuvering on his knees.

She extended her left foot out, hovering it in the area at a low height.

As if intuitively knowing what the amazon wanted, he sheepishly nodded his head once more before pulling away her ballet flat, fulling exposing her size 11 left foot and its glorious sole.  He took one long coveting glance at it before cupping it in his hands and rubbing its every feature; he maneuvered his hands from soft to firm---soft to firm----soft to firm, treating her almost as if she were a queen of some sort.

"Very nice", the amazon gushed. "You certainly aim to please. Now kiss it."

To which Dave responded, prancing his tongue all across her dangling appendage's immaculate features; up and down the sole and in-between her toes. He did this for well over ten minutes, becoming more enthusiastic as he heard a pleased sound coo out of the amazon's mouth every now and then.

As she offered her right foot out to receive the same treatment, the middle aged man did not hesitate to give it to her in spite of the taste of recently applied lotion.

"Good boy", she cooed before finally motioning him to stop. And upon motioning him to do just this, she got up from where she had been standing and began walking towards the bathroom all while gesturing the middle aged man to follow her.

To which Dave responded by yet again sheepishly nodding his head.

"Take a good and long look", she said as they both entered the bathroom, her attention drawn to the wall encased vanity mirror stretching over the sink and the counter. 

Heeding a non-verbal gesture of the amazon's, he stood directly in front of the mirror and gazed at his middle aged form; his dark hair, his slim frame,  his glasses, his business casual attire and the pair of khaki's he was wearing.

The amazon stood directly behind him, enveloping his body with her own and sprawling her muscular arms over him, down from his slim shoulders to his thighs. She then leaned into him with her head directly next to his and whispered. "What do you see, Dave?"

"I see myself in the mirror", he stammered.

She blew into his ear. "Yes, but what do you see, Dave?"

"I . . . I see a man who is nervous about what he is doing."

"And why is he so nervous yet so compliant, Dave?"

"Because . . . because . . ."

She pecked him on the cheek. "He wants to be told what to do."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

She nibbled on his ear lobe. "He wants to be dominated."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

She stroked her tongue across the left side of his neck. "He wants to submit to a real woman."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

With one of her well developed hands, the amazon began to unbutton Dave's office casual shirt—starting with the first three buttons on the top. "His wife is not a real woman."

Dave hesitated for a moment . . . before finally nodding his head in the same sheepish fashion he had been doing.

"His wife doesn't understand his needs the way I do."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

The amazon unbuttoned another three buttons. "All his wife seems to care about these days is maintaining what little power and influence she has over this neighborhood."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

She unbuttoned another three buttons "But his wife has no true power."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

She unbuttoned the final three buttons on the middle aged man's shirt, exposing his full torso in one swift movement. "He didn't know what true power was until yesterday afternoon."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

The amazon pulled his dressed shirt away and discarded it on the floor before sensually stroking her well developed hands over his slim and exposed chest. "The way he looked at me when he saw a real woman for the first time; it excited him, didn't it?"

He sheepishly nodded his head.

She swiftly reached down to Dave's khaki's, pushing her hand directly down to the outside of his underwear. "It excited him then . . . just like it's exciting him now."

He sheepishly nodded his head, this time with a lot more enthusiasm than he had before.

To which the amazon giggled while her hand still explored the inside of Dave's pants. "I thought as much. And that's the real reason he came over here today isn't it?"

He again hesitated . . . pausing for several seconds as he continued to feel the rigid and uncontrollable sensation deep down below . . . before sheepishly nodding his head once more.

"See? That wasn't so hard now was it?", she asked with a soft giggle. "Just for that, momma is gonna reward her honest little man with a present."

He sheepishly nodded his head.

"Now . . . take off the remainder of your clothes and follow me to my bedroom."

He sheepishly nodded his head once more before quickly doing just that; the belt, the khaki's, his shoes, his socks and even his undergarments . . . all lying on the floor within seconds.

As Dave walked into the bedroom, he saw Christy sitting at the foot of her bed with the door to her closet wide open and the box Mark had stumbled upon during his encounter with her lying next to her feet. With her index finger curled, she gestured the middle aged man to come and kneel before her. A command Dave had no trouble abiding by.

She then reached into her box and removed what appeared to be a blindfold  . "Put this on."

With another sheepish nod of his head, he put the blindfold on around his head and waited in that one spot as any good and obedient dog would do. Even as he waited there on his knees, he could hear the amazon getting up and walking around the room. He could hear the sound of something zipping and something later being tossed on the floor. He could then hear the sound of something rummaging through the box right next to him.
Before he even realized it, he could feel himself being picked up and casually slung over the amazon's broad and muscular shoulder only to be casually tossed onto the bed shortly thereafter. Nevertheless, he faithfully remained still and did not remove his blindfold.

After a few more sounds he could not recognize, he could hear the amazon crawling onto the bed, getting closer to him as she did. He could also hear the sound of a bottle opening. A sound he found curious, but a sound that did not even prepare him for the next feeling; all of the sudden, he could feel the amazon's fingers doused in some kind of lubricant liquid and he felt them down in an area he never dared to explore.

He did not quite know how to describe what he was feeling. First it was one finger slowly pushing itself in . . . then out; a strange feeling, but a feeling he found curious nonetheless. Before he knew it, another finger had joined the mix; pushing themselves in and out and at an even rhythm. And before he knew it once more, a third finger had joined in on the . . . probing.

Dave let out a small and weak whimper in discomfort, only to feel a finger from the amazon's free hand gently brush over his lips. "Just relax. Momma knows what she's doing."
This process continued for several more minutes and Dave could feel himself become more aroused by the moment. He never expected arousal could even begin to come from a place such as that for a man, but the amazon was showing him things about himself he never knew.

As he grew more and more accustomed to the arousal, her three fingers suddenly abandoned him; he gasped at their sudden loss.

Sensing his disappointment, the amazon let out a small laugh before cooing. "Awe, don't worry. Momma's got something even better in mind."

As he sheepishly nodded his head once more, he felt a delicate pair of lips enthrall themselves against his, captivating his soul in a way Barbara never could. He even felt a tongue push its way past its lips and right into mouth, as if the explore his very interior.

Dave desperately threw his arms around the amazon's wide and muscular back, craving more from her; perhaps craving more than he had ever received."

But as he did this, he perhaps received a little more than he bargained for. For at that very moment, the amazon did cradle herself closer to him, but with some unexpected baggage along the way . . .

"Arggh!", he cried out, having felt something with much more size and girth than the three fingers that had been exploring him earlier.

But Christy nonetheless made a shushing sound. "Just relax. You're already doing so good."

Whatever was invading Dave's rear, it was penetrating itself deeper and deeper. He tried to yelp out in pain once again, but the amazon simply hushed him before continuing to invade his mouth with her tongue.
Little by little, the foreign invader pushed into Dave deeper and deeper until finally . . . he could feel the amazon's pelvis behind the base of some sort of latex material.

"That's right. Deep breaths . . . Deep breaths . . . Deep breaths . . . good boy", she cooed again.

After what felt like a full minute, this object began to retreat from Dave's rear. Though he sighed in relief as this happened, his relief was short lived as the object immediately rammed its way back into him. He let out another small whimper.

"There there", the amazon cooed."

The object began to retreat again, only to plunge in once more .

Dave yelped again, trying to pull away from the amazon this time.

But the amazon simply giggled and tugged at Dave's leash. "Take it like a man."

His subconscious impulses caused him to grind his fingernails into her back, as if to try and get her to stop.

However, this only encouraged more giggling and another tug at his leash. "Mmmmm. Whatever that is you're doing to momma's back . . . keep doing it."

No matter what he did, she would not stop. And as time passed, the pace at which this was happening only increased, thrusting in . . . and out . . . in . . . and out . . . in . . . and out . . . faster . . . and faster . . . and faster. And as time passed, Dave noticed something strange about this sequence. Even though the amazon was picking up the speed, the pain he was feeling was lessening by the moment. So much to the point that . . .

". . . . aaaah", he let out a small loan.

The amazon giggled at the sound of this, ripping off his blindfold as she did. And as he finally saw what was occurring, he could hardly believe it. Christy had stripped down to her bra and panties and was wearing a strap-on harness. He heard about this sort of taboo sexual deviancy before, but never once imagined that he himself would be engaging in it. And oddly enough, his rod down below was standing stiff and tall as Christy continued to enter him.

"Oh . . . fuck", he mumbled before tightening his hold around the amazon's back.

The sight of this merely caused her to smirk with pride. "You like that, little man?"

He vigorously nodded his head in approval.

"Good, then why don't we pick up the pace?", she said before throwing one of his feet over her shoulder and entering him more vigorously than she had been doing.

"Oh . . . yes . . . yes . . . oh yes", he muttered as he continued to get slammed by what was surely at least 180 pounds of pure feminine muscle.

"You like getting fucked up the ass, don't you little man?", she said as she continued to pound away at him.

"Oh . . . yes."

"Say it!"

"I . . . like . . . oh . . . oh . . . I like getting fucked up the ass!"

Grinning with satisfaction on her lips, she pulled her dildo out from Dave's rear in one swift motion and then looked down upon him with a firm grip on his leash. "Beg."

Dave looked up upon the amazon, confused about her latest request. "Beg?"

"Beg for it. Beg for all eight inches of this juicy cock."

With a look of desperation in his eyes he crawled closer to the amazon. "Please. I beg you."

"You beg me to what?", she giggled.

"To keep fucking me in the ass. Please."

"I don't know, Dave", she playfully shrugged her shoulders. "With the way you came over here complaining about the way I treat Mark, I just don't know if I should even bother further complicating things by messing with the boy's father."

"Please. Please Christy. Please my goddess. I beg of you."

"Your goddess, huh?", she cooed. "And Mark?"

"I won't question your decisions ever again. I promise! Just please!"

"Oh yeah?", she twirled her fingers through her long brunette hair, still giggling. "And what about your wife? You are technically asking me to help you commit infidelity. I just don't know if I could do that to your marriage."

"Please! You were right! You're a real woman! She is not! You were right! You're all I need now! Please. Just please fuck me!"

"Hmmmmmmm!" The amazon rubbed her fingers around the base of her chin for a moment, pondering over what to do in a flamboyant and ostentatious fashion. "Well . . . when you put it that way. Turn around and get down on all fours."

Dave vigorously nodded his head and did just that.

She mounted herself behind him before thrusting her thick and plastic cock all the way into him. "Good boy."

With even more enthusiasm than before, she continued to pound away at him, thrusting in and out with all of her weight and muscle. Dave shuttered to think at what this would do to his rear, but he didn't care. He just had to have it. He just had to have her.

She tugged at his leash. "You love cock, don't you Dave?"

"Oh .  . .  ah . . . yes goddess!", he cried out.

She tugged at his leash again. "You're a real cock slut, aren't you Dave?"

"Oh . . . fuck . . . yes goddess!"

She tugged at his leash once more. "You're my cock slut, aren't you Dave?"

"Oh . . . fuck yes . . ah . . . ah . . . ah . . . yes goddess!"

She tugged at his leash one last time, this time maintaining her pull around his neck. "And if it came down to choosing between your wife and my cock, you'd pick my cock every day of the week, wouldn't you Dave?"

"Oh . . . ah . . . ah . . . oh . . . fuck . . . fuck yes . . . FUCK YES GODDESS!"

Somehow or another, with all of the amazon's thrusting and pounding, she had managed to massage Dave's prostate enough to spill far more of his seed than he even knew possible; ropes and ropes spurting onto the bed.
Christy finally pulled out before letting out a relieved sigh. Despite all of her strength and stamina, she had indeed worked up a few beads of sweat.

[ . . .]

Upon cleaning up his little mess and putting his clothes back on, Dave was finally given permission to return home. He walked through the front door as Mark had the previous night, noticing that it was 8:00 pm the minute he stepped inside.

"How'd it go, dad?", Mark asked, having heard him walk in.

He paused for a moment, sweat beads pouring down his forehead as he wondered what he could possibly say to his son after what he had just done. With a deep and reluctant sigh, he gave the only answer he could think of. An answer all too often given from parents who don't have an answer. "We'll talk about it later."

"What do you mean we're gonna talk about it later?", Mark jeered. "Did you tell her to stop or not?"

And in what was otherwise and uncharacteristic strut of anger, the older Robinson said, "I said we'll talk about it later, damnit! Now go to bed!"

"But it's 8:00 pm . . . and its Saturday!", Mark retorted.

"March!", Dave yelled while pointing his finger towards his son's bedroom

Sighing in frustration, he ran straight to his room and slammed the door behind him.

Dave, on the other hand, looked visibly horrified about what he had just done. For as long as he could remember, he was always a very peaceful person and had always sought to avoid conflict no matter what. Before then, he had never yelled at his son, leaving virtually all of the discipline to his wife. He wondered what came over him just now, but could not find an answer.

Disturbed with what he had just done then as well as what had happened at Christy's house not long ago, he decided to head straight to bed himself. As soon as he walked into his bedroom, he saw Barbara sitting on her side of the bed in her pajamas, playing around with an app on her cellphone.

"You've certainly been busy", she remarked, notably more interested with the app on her phone than whatever whereabouts of her husband for the past few hours.

"Yeah", he bluntly said before changing into his pajamas and getting in the bed.

Barbara kept playing around with her app, not sensing anything strange until . . . "What's that smell?"

He got under the covers and laid down with his head facing away from his wife. "Don't know"

Barbara leaned towards him and sniffed his backside. Then, with the inquisitive look in her eyes, she asked "Dave . . . why do you smell like perfume?"

[SoulPlane]

Am not sure why, but something about this story made me one to jot out another chapter. This last chapter was damn over 10,000 words, yet I typed it out seamlessly. I don't understand, but something about the thought of muscle girls makes me way more productive than I am in real life.

[IAAPA]

This is awesome! I really hope there is lots more to come. Can't wait for the next chapter!

[tarzan7]

KARMA! The writing is excellent, of that there is no question. Great descriptions of the characters.

As for Christy, no matter how powerful and sexy she is, I don't like her. At all. She's a bully, and I can't stand bullies. Now the Mom may be a pretentious housewife only interested in the homeowners' association; her husband may be this quiet middle aged, middle management type; and the son, spoiled and lazy but smarter than he let's on, he's still a gawky teen. They don't really deserve the abuse they are getting from this new neighbor. I know I'm overthinking this - since this is an entertaining FBB story - but Christy is an anti-social predator and a child abuser at the very least. And I don't believe the scene between Dad and Christy. We should have gotten a hint or three earlier that he wasn't oblivious and was turned on prior to going to her house.

What I'd like to see is Christy get told off, embarrassed...  something. Or we discover something in Christy's dark past that can make her character a bit more sympathetic, we can understand why she is such a bullying and rather unstable character.

You may think that my comments are critical of the story. They are not. The story made me think and it is gripping. You're a good writer. Keep going!

[IAAPA]

I like Christy. I like her as a bully. I hope she doesn't get put in her place because that would take away, in my opinion, from the superiority she exudes and that has been built for her in this story. That's what makes her and this story exciting. I'd rather see her use gentle domination and turn protective of her subs than to see her get put in her place. K+!

[SoulPlane]

KARMA! The writing is excellent, of that there is no question. Great descriptions of the characters.

As for Christy, no matter how powerful and sexy she is, I don't like her. At all. She's a bully, and I can't stand bullies. Now the Mom may be a pretentious housewife only interested in the homeowners' association; her husband may be this quiet middle aged, middle management type; and the son, spoiled and lazy but smarter than he let's on, he's still a gawky teen. They don't really deserve the abuse they are getting from this new neighbor. I know I'm overthinking this - since this is an entertaining FBB story - but Christy is an anti-social predator and a child abuser at the very least. And I don't believe the scene between Dad and Christy. We should have gotten a hint or three earlier that he wasn't oblivious and was turned on prior to going to her house.

What I'd like to see is Christy get told off, embarrassed...  something. Or we discover something in Christy's dark past that can make her character a bit more sympathetic, we can understand why she is such a bullying and rather unstable character.

You may think that my comments are critical of the story. They are not. The story made me think and it is gripping. You're a good writer. Keep going!

Thanks for reading and offering feedback! It means alot! 

Before I began writing this story, I wanted all of the characters to be flawed in some form or fashion and Christy is no exception. You're correct about her being a bully, anti-social predator and a child abuser even! That said, while thinking about the 'dominant FBB bully' trope that so many of these stories revolve around, I decided I wanted to flesh it out a bit. So from that standpoint, I have every intention of delving into Christy's character and giving you all the reason on why she is the way she is. If you've ever seen a certain movie (which I won't name b/c I don't wish to spoil anything), you might consider her past to be sympathetic. Nevertheless, she loves doing what she does and is every bit convinced that there is a method to her madness. If you'll look back over the first chapter, you'll see that I dropped a bread crumbs to show you where I'm going with her. And that's all I'm going to say on that! 


In regards to Dave the soft-spoken middle-management dad, I probably ought to have made it more clear that he was subconsciously infatuated with Christy's physique. I kind of wanted that revelation to come out of the left field. If I were married, I'd like to think I wouldn't cheat on my wife no matter how tempting of a seductress I encountered, but if I were in Dave's position (minus the part about me knowing this woman has been messing with m son--which I probably could've tweaked a bit at least to make Dave's behavior a little less reprehensible), went over to Arekah Lox's house and Arekah slowly started playing her little mind games with me, I can't guarantee what would happen throughout the evening.


Thanks for the review and thanks for reading!

[SoulPlane]

I like Christy. I like her as a bully. I hope she doesn't get put in her place because that would take away, in my opinion, from the superiority she exudes and that has been built for her in this story. That's what makes her and this story exciting. I'd rather see her use gentle domination and turn protective of her subs than to see her get put in her place. K+!

Thanks for reading!  Karma appreciated!

[wowser1016]

Well I really like Christy and I like your approach in the way she has handled father and son. The son is a brat and the father a somewhat insecure submissive and she now owns both of them. The obvious next question is what about the Mrs.? Will she complete the sweep of the family or just stay friends with the wife/mother and then take on the Neighborhood Association? Whatever she does or direction she takes I really wish she were my neighbor. K+