Rhode Rage free porn video

Rhode Rage – By James Pendergrass

Table of Contents:

Chapter One – Eat Soap

Chapter Two – Her Knee

Chapter Three – CFNM

Chapter Four – Hair Brush Meets Male Ass

Chapter Five – Remote Control

Chapter Six – Kristin’s Friend Svetlana

Chapter Seven – Anyone for Tennis?

Chapter Eight – Cum Chortling Day

Epilogue – Finished Off

(Disclaimer:  This is a fictitious tale intended solely for adults aged 18 or older.  Like all my novellas, the characters depicted are all 18 or older.  The author does not necessarily advocate the events of this story as a lifestyle preference.  If you, or someone you know is in a truly abusive relationship, please seek professional assistance.  The author believes all relationships should be based on love and affection. Please do not reprint or republish this story without the express written consent of James P.  Thank you)

Chapter One – Eat Soap

Vanessa Cromwell - newly divorced Vanessa Cromwell - put the pedal to the metal of her brand new Mercedes.   She smiled as she felt the smooth engine surge with power as she accelerated into the fast lane of route 138.  Just a month ago, she'd signed the final papers on her divorce from Winston.  Silly Winston.  They'd made it last almost four years.  Winston was Vanessa's second ?failed? marriage.  Since when was failure supposed to feel so good?  But it did.  She finally had her independence at the age of 43.  She might not be young anymore, but she wasn't that old.  Plus she was physically fit and emotionally intact. 

Vanessa had no regrets for taking her rich ex-husband for tens of millions.  He should have known what he was getting into when he went for the trophy wife.  During their time together, she'd managed to keep her affairs private (Really, did anyone expect her to be sexually satisfied with an old man?).  In the meantime, early on she hired a private dick and had him follow Winston.  The detective documented Winston's heavy drinking and eventually he caught Winston in a secret rendezvous at a cross-town hotel. 

Really, who could blame Winston?  Vanessa hadn't let him touch her for over two years.  He had bad breath.  His modest, semi-hard penis had no affect on her.  Vanessa very much preferred larger, and younger.  When men reached a certain age, the blood never filled every vessel of their "vital organs" the way it did for younger men.

The divorce proceedings had been predictably acrimonious.  Vanessa instructed her attorney in her own words to "Nail Winston's wrinkled scrotum to the wall." Upon hearing the instructions, Vanessa's young female attorney, barely 30, had laughed out loud.  The attorney then proceeded to do as requested, getting her client more than half of everything.  Winston was so humiliated he had no choice but to leave Newport and head to his less spectacular home in Florida.  This left Vanessa loaded with money, not to mention some prime real estate in the beautiful coastal Rhode Island summer community. 

There was something wonderful about sticking it to men, thought Vanessa as she darted in and out of traffic.  Her dear friend Brooke was so right.  Of course, Brooke took it to extremes, but maybe the woman was onto something. 

Vanessa admired herself in the mirror.  She might be a cougar now, but damn she was a fine-looking one.  Her shoulder-length dark hair was the plush beneficiary of regular trips to her $250 stylist.  She wore a cream-colored blouse with a full strand of pearls around her narrow neck.  She had striking dark-brown eyes, long eyelashes, and a pointy little nose.  She prided herself on her femininity.  At 5'5" and 112 pounds, she was slim and fit.  She knew she was in possession of a firm stomach and a terrific ass, courtesy of her steady work at the gym.  The ass was kept cozy in a lovely dark skirt pulled high over her hips.  Stockings and expensive dark pumps completed the outfit.

Vanessa’s thoughts turned to her vagina, as they often did these days.  Brooke always preached that successful women tended to be "cunt conscious," as she eloquently put it.  As Vanessa had become better friends with Brooke in recent years, she had taken Brooke's advice to heart.  She found it both amusing and accurate, Brook's philosophy that the tender area between women's legs ruled the world.  "Men are totally transfixed by it," Brooke would say.  "It's all they can think about.  Use it to your advantage.  Use it to brainwash them, to control them.  It's the ultimate weapon."

Glancing in the mirror she noticed for the first time that a Mustang convertible was tailgating her.  A young man was behind the wheel.  He was flashing his lights and motioning with his hands.  Vanessa's eyes narrowed and she hit the breaks.  This boy needed to learn some manners.

Vanessa was on her way to the health club.  It was the grand prize in the divorce settlement from Winston.  In addition to $10 million in cash and the house, Winston was forced to part with his seven exclusive health clubs.  Vanessa was now the owner.  As an aversion she had taken to managing some aspects of the Newport operation.  Mostly, she loved going to the office and acting like a businesswoman even if she hadn't really worked a day in her entire life.  It was a beautiful office and she liked the idea of being in charge. 

HONK HONK!

Vanessa glanced at the mirror again.  The Mustang was maybe two inches off her rear bumper.  She wrapped her slender fingers around the steering wheel and squeezed tightly, her long red nails digging into her palms.  Begrudgingly, she signaled to the right and moved over one lane.  Up ahead, the light turned red and she eased the brand new Mercedes to a  stop.

**************

Roger Barry was late for work.  And it didn't help that this stupid fucking bitch in the big Mercedes was driving so slow.  "It's the fast lane, you cunt!  Move over!" he hollered.

His head ached something awful.  He knew he shouldn't have had that last drink last night.  Glancing at his watch, he was already five minutes late from his receptionist job at the health club.  Now his boss, Kristin, was going to really give it to him.  And how ridiculous was it that he worked for Kristin?  That bitch was his age for chrissakes.  They had both worked summer jobs at the club since last year and yet she got the supervisory position.  He'd only been at this job for two weeks this summer and already he wanted to kill her.  He would have quit if the economy wasn't so awful, but the fact was he desperately needed this job.

And this rich twat wouldn't get out of his way!  He flashed his lights and accelerated until he was all but touching her back bumper.  "Move bitch!" he yelled.  Finally, she moved to the right.  Up ahead, the light at Greene Avenue was yellow.  Fuck!  It took forever.  Screeching to a halt, Roger turned and stared daggers at the woman in the Mercedes.  She was a hot, older woman.  That was for damn sure.  A brunette.  She had pearls and diamond earrings.  A total stuck up bitch.  She eyed Roger in her Gucci Sunglasses.  Roger responded by sticking up his middle finger.  "You fucking bitch!  Learn how to drive, you cunt rag."

"Excuse me?" she said, acting all indignant.  She took off her sunglasses and eyed Roger with deep, brown eyes.  Roger felt his heart surge.  "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"You heard me, bitch.  Get a fucking clue!" Roger shouted.

The light turned green and he sped off.

***************

Vanessa could hardly believe it.  The boy who worked the front desk at the health club had just called her a "fucking bitch" and a "cunt."  She normally didn't allow herself to get upset since she prided herself on her coolness and her cunning.  It was what allowed her to ascend to this position in the first place.  But the only thing she could think of as she drove the final four blocks to the club was how she was going to personally fire this boy's ass as soon as she arrived. 

She knew from having recently studied the employment chart at the club that he reported to Kristin Johnson.  When reviewing the summer hires a few weeks ago, her assistant Maya had asked her what to do about the front desk position.  Maya had reported that Kristin was totally reliable while the boy, Roger, was "not so great."  Vanessa had instructed Maya to make Kristin the front-desk supervisor and have Roger report to her.  It had been Vanessa’s first executive move.  Vanessa was thrilled at the idea of putting a young woman in charge.  When she told Brooke about it over lunch, Brooke had been very pleased.  "Maybe I'm getting through to you," Brooke had said.

Now that same boy, the bastard, had fucked up for the last time.  Vanessa thought of Roger.  He was a big, rambunctious young man, over six feet tall, over 200 pounds.  In addition to a serious comeuppance, the boy needed a haircut. 

Vanessa pulled into cul de sac in front of the club.  Wordlessly she exited the vehicle and allowed one of the valet boys to take her car.  She strode purposely to her office and sat in the great leather chair.  She practiced what she would say:

"Who's the bitch now."  No.  Too ghetto.

"That will teach you to behave with more respect toward women."  Promising.

"I hope you learned a valuable lesson, young man."  Not bad.

Thinking ahead to the moment when she would dress the boy down, she felt a pulse between her thighs and smiled.  I'm going to drag it out a bit, she thought.  Make him beg.  She would take particular pleasure in handing this boy his walking papers. 

Vanessa picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. 

*************

"You're late again," said Kristin.  

"Sue me," said Roger, pulling on his uniform and sitting down next to Kristin.  Why couldn't he have gotten stuck with a hot chick?  Not that Kristin was ugly by any stretch.  She was maybe five feet nine inches tall.  She had nice tits.  Her ass was the problem.  It was too big for Roger's liking.  He preferred skinny bitches, which was a tad hypocritical since he was approaching clinical obesity.  In any event, it was utterly absurd that he reported to her. 

Roger eyed his boss closely.  She wore a suit as though she was some kind of businesswoman.  It made her look almost womanly.  She had nice legs although her calves were a tad thick.  Roger, in contrast wore black pants and a white button down shirt.

Kristin surveyed the asshole she was forced to spend her summer with.  "I think I need to speak to Maya," she said, trying to hide her smile.

Roger's eyes widened.  He needed this job.  "Look, Kristin, whatever, ok?  Something came up.  You know I'm usually on time.  Gimmee a break."

Kristin eyed him intently.  Gosh it was great being in charge.  It was the only thing that made this job tolerable.  She really enjoyed being able to push Roger around.  He was such a dumb ass.  "Okay," she said aloofly.  "But I swear, Roger, this is your final warning.  Next time I have to tell Maya, who I imagine will take disciplinary action."  Kristen enjoyed threatening Roger.

"Fine!" he said, absolutely bursting at the seams, doing everything he could not to go off on Kristin.

The phone rang.  Kristin picked it up.  "Ocean Health Club Front Desk.  Can I help you?  Oh hello Mrs. Cromwell.  Yes?  Um, certainly.  I'll send him right up."  She hung up the phone.  "That was strange," she said.

"What is it?" said Roger, leaning back in his chair.

"Vanessa Cromwell asked me to send you to her office."

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Roger knocked on the large oak door of Vanessa Cromwell's office.  His heart thumped.  He'd never before met the new owner of the club.  Supposedly, according to a couple of his buddies who did valet parking, she was a total babe.  Roger speculated that she was summoning him to offer him a better position at the club.  It was about time.

"Come in," he heard a feminine voice from within.

He could hardly believe his eyes.  Sitting in front of him was the bitch in the Mercedes that he'd seen only fifteen minutes ago!

His only hope, he decided, was to play it cool.  "You wanted to see me?" he said in as innocent a voice as he could muster.

"Oh, come now.?  The woman behind the desk laughed.  You're not going to pretend you don't know who I am?"  A few minutes ago I was that cunt in a Mercedes.  Remember?  I think you stuck your middle finger at me."  Vanessa now extended her own middle finger at her young guest.

"I- I- If I knew it was you I never would have acted that way," Roger stammered.

"Oh?" said Vanessa.  "So if it just some random woman on the street, you would have been happy to show her such disrespect then?"  Gosh this was a rush!  She sounded just like Brooke. Brooke, whose husband's privates were held captive in some kind of diabolical device and was - get this - spanked regularly on his naked bottom.  With a hairbrush no less!

"I- I'm sorry ma'am," the boy said.  Vanessa was amused at his transformation, from potty-mouthed tough guy to this groveling, brown-nosing dog.  Power was a wonderful thing.

"You're going to be very sorry when you are looking for a new job," Vanessa said.  "You're fired."  It should have felt better coming from her mouth, but instead it felt hollow.  And left her wanting more.  "Perhaps you'll think twice before acting like a jerk the next time you cross paths with a woman," she added.

The boy's shoulders slumped and he looked to the floor.  Vanessa almost felt bad for him.  To help brush off her feelings of sympathy, she did what Brooke told her she should do:  she thought of her cunt.  It was resting comfortably above the leather cushion, held snug beneath her skirt by white satin. 

She watched as the boy stood.  To her utter delight, rather than make his way quietly to the door, instead he leaned forward and made a praying motion with his hands.  ?Look, ma'am, please.  I'm so sorry.  It will never ever happen again.  I learned my lesson.  I need this job.  I'll do whatever you need me to do so that you know I've paid the price for my actions.  Please."  He was on the verge of tears.

"You should have thought of that before you acted like a child," Vanessa said.  "Now get out of my office before I need to summon security.?  She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, feeling a slight pulsing coming from beneath.  Was she crazy enough to take the next step?

**********

Roger could not believe his luck.  He'd insulted the boss and now he was cooked.  He'd go broke without this job.  He stood and prepared to leave.  The sad thing was that Vanessa Cromwell was a complete and utter babe.  How could he have said those things to such a hot piece of tail?  She was so well dressed.  For a moment, Roger had this crazy thought that maybe he'd offer to be her personal servant.  It might be humiliating but in recent years Roger had found himself having these kinds of odd thoughts when it came to women.  They confused him.  On the one hand, he wanted to get laid and liked the idea of subjugating them.  But sometimes he found himself thinking about being humiliated by them.  Being controlled by them.  There was something powerful, something wonderfully bitchy about the woman.  And Vanessa Cromwell was quite the female specimen.  She was so classy, so well dressed.  She had a certain aloofness that he found irresistible.  At least he would be able to think of her when he masturbated.  That was small consolation but at least it was something.  He clumsily made his way to the door.  "I'm sorry again for what I did," he uttered.

That's when he heard the words that rocked him to his core.  "Wait!" her sharp feminine voice ordered.  He stopped in his tracks, one hand on the door.  He turned and faced The Boss.

She had a slight grin on her pretty, experienced face.  "Just how sorry are you, young man?"

"Huh?" he said, face bright red, barely able to utter the words.

"Come here," she motioned with her little red-painted finger. 

*********

Vanessa couldn't believe she was going through with it.  Brooke was really rubbing off on her.  And there was something about this boy, all bulky and clumsy that excited her.  Something about the idea of pushing him around.  He was less than half her age and more than twice her size.  She reasoned that, other than the physical side of things, she was his superior in every other facet, emotionally, intellectually, financially, and sexually.  In addition, there was something she detected in this boy.  Despite his rudeness and his temperamental nature, there was something that needed to be tamed.  She motioned for him to come around the side of the desk and stand in front of her. 

"You said you'd do whatever I needed you to do," she said, legs still crossed, as she studied the disheveled young man that stood in front of her.

Noticing the look of recognition on his face, she quickly corrected herself.  "Don't get the wrong idea, Roger," she added.  "I'm not interested in that.  Not from you anyway."  She waited for his shoulders to slump. 

"Yes ma'am," Roger said.  His heart was beating a mile a minute.  He had an inkling he knew where this might be going.  A part of him was terrified but a part of him tingled with anticipation.

"You're pretty polite once you know your place," Vanessa said, teasing out the moment.  "How would you like to be taught a great deal more about respecting women?"  Before he could answer she continued, "It won’t be as fun for you as it will be for me.  But I suspect you will learn a great deal.  Eventually you might grow to enjoy what I have in mind.?

"What do I have to do?" Roger asked. 

"Follow me," Vanessa said, standing.  She walked into her palatial bathroom, which was connected to her office.  She felt the rustling of her skirt as her legs flexed back and forth and it added to her confidence.  They stood in front of the mirror together.  It was amazing how he towered over her.  But anyone looking at the pair would not have mistaken who was in charge.

Like a woman possessed, Vanessa grabbed a bar of soap off the counter above the sink.  It was brand new and quite sizable.  She eyed him in the mirror.  "Young man," Vanessa said.  "I can't think of a more suitable punishment for a big mouth like you than to have your mouth washed out with soap.  Now open wide," she said, holding the soap up near his face.

At first Roger did nothing.  He was shocked at these developments.  His emotions were all over the map.  For a moment, he thought he was going to get laid.  Then he was told she just wanted to teach him a lesson about respect.  Respect!  Please.  He felt the anger surge up inside him again.  Then he felt something very different.  It started as a slight tingling, but soon he felt himself begin to expand in his trousers.  It was something about the way she was talking to him.  Not to mention the way she moved in that skirt.  He couldn't possibly like it.  Could he?  He tried to push the thought from his head, but the thought wouldn't go away.  There was something mesmerizing about this chick's voice.  Something about the shine of her lipstick.  Her scent.  And of course he couldn't stop imagining what was beneath her skirt.  He knew what was beneath her skirt, but it remained out of view and that made her even more desirable.

Her voice brought him out of his trance.  "You can either open wide, or you can leave," Vanessa said.  She tapped her pump impatiently on the bathroom tile.  "I'm waiting."

"I'll stay," he stammered.  As a sign of his submission, he opened his mouth.

"Wider!" she ordered.  "And stick out your tongue."  She took firm hold of his chin and pressed a corner of the bar of soap against the inside of his cheek until the other corner of the soap had room to clear his other cheek.  She then moved her free hand around the base of his skull so that he couldn't easily pull away.  Then, with a fluid, delightfully satisfying motion, she shoved the bar into his mouth.  "Bite down on it," she said as she continued to push the bar against his mouth.

Roger felt the strong acidic taste invade his mouth.  His initial reflex was to spit the soap out, but he knew better than to defy her.  Plus he felt a bizarre peacefulness, as though this was all meant to be.  He felt himself throb in his pants and hoped she wouldn't notice.  Waves of cognitive dissonance washed over him.  He felt almost hypnotized and totally malleable.  He wouldn't move until she told him to.

Vanessa put her hands on her hips.  She appraised the boy carefully.  This was beautiful.  For all her conquests over the male gender she was hard-pressed to come up with a moment that felt any more satisfying.  She was on a roll!  "I need to make a few phone calls," she said.  "Come stand in front of me so I can keep an eye on you."

As though in a trance, he followed her into the other room.  She plunked her small body into the huge chair and pointed to a spot on the floor a few feet from the chair.  "On second hand, I want you to sit beneath me.  Don't sit too close though.  Sit right here."

For the next 15 minutes, Roger sat.  He felt dizzy with humiliation and at the same time strangely aroused.  His saliva caused the soap to soften and it tasted awful.  He began to perspire.  When she wasn't looking, he snuck glances at Vanessa's legs and her heels. 

Finally, when it seemed as though it would never end, she addressed him.  "Stand up," she said.  As he stood, so did Vanessa.  He felt his pants pressed outwards in the crotch.  His balls ached and for the life of him he couldn't understand why.  She looked at him and smiled vindictively.  For a moment, Roger felt the anger surge up in him.  How had he allowed this to happen?  Why didn't he just walk away?  He felt powerless.  Then he saw her eyes drift downward where they settled on his groin.  She looked back at him as though she was about to say something.  Instead she smiled, "Give me your hand."

This time she escorted him by hand back into the bathroom.  Together they stood in front of the mirror.  Roger had begun drooling from the bottom of his mouth.  The saliva was running down his chin.  She reached up and mercifully removed the soap from his mouth, placing it daintily in the sink.  They eyed each other in the mirror.

"So did you learn your lesson?" she asked.

"Yes, miss," he stammered weakly.  Why was he so fucked up?  It was as though he was in a trance.

"I prefer ma'am," she said.

"Yes ma'am," he corrected himself.  Now that the soap was gone he was beginning to regain his bearings.  She was angering him again.

"The next time I sense any disrespect from you toward me, or any other woman in this club, I'll do a much more thorough job of washing your mouth.  Believe me.  And that's not all I'll do," she said, as she felt intense satisfaction emanating from her nipples and her crotch.

"Yes ma'am," Roger said.  At this point, he just wanted to leave.

"Okay, you can go back to work," she said.  "And take your soap with you," she added.  "In fact, I want you to carry it with you at all times in case you're in need of further correction."  God she was good at this!  She could sense he was angry, and that made it even better.

She watched as he left without a word.

Chapter Two – Her Knee

When Roger arrived home that evening, he went straight to his room, pulled down his pants and, in less than ten strokes, sent fountains of semen shooting all over the place.  As he cleaned the mess he wondered what the hell was the matter with him.  How had he let himself get bested by some skirt?  Okay, it was true, she was beautiful and the owner of the club, but women were for fucking.  He should have bent her over her desk and slammed her.  He should have used his physical strength and knocked that little pussy for a loop.  That's what men were supposed to do to women.  Then why did it feel so good to be bossed around like that?  He had no idea, but he was already hardening again as he thought of the way she spoke to him.  For some insane reason, it felt really, really good to be pushed around by the weaker sex.  He wished he could understand what was going on in his head.

*****

Across town, Vanessa was enjoying a cup of tea with her good friend Brooke.  "It was so incredible, Brooke.  I took charge of him, totally put him in his place.  I loved every moment."

Brooke Radcliffe took a sip of tea, her red lipstick leaving a mark on the china.  A full-figured blonde, Brooke had once been a model.  But once she got married, she began to fill out.  Still beautiful, Brooke was a Ruebenesque size 14 and proud of it.  She was a loud, unapologetic, flamboyant woman, who wore expensive clothing and dictated all aspects of her life.  Vanessa and Brooke met at the Country Club three years earlier and the two became fast friends.  Their husbands ran in the same circles.  Early on in their relationship, Brooke made her views on female/male relationships perfectly clear.  Women ruled the earth.  She preached this fact to Vanessa whenever they got together.  Now both 43, Brooke was thrilled to discover that her initial suspicion about Vanessa was proving correct.  The beautiful, skinny bitch was a true-blue Dominant Cunt.

Vanessa absolutely glowed as she related her experience with the young man earlier that day.  "There was something incredibly satisfying about the exchange," she said.  "This feeling of power.  I felt it down there," she said.  "Between this and the divorce, I think I've finally arrived as a woman."

Brooke smiled.  "You have, dear.  In truth, you were always a woman.  Only now with the training and inevitable conquering of this boy, you're in the process of blossoming."

Vanessa pushed back her hair, revealing a blush.  "I guess I'm a little bit old to blossom."

"Utter nonsense," said Brooke.  "Modern women reach the peak of their sexual and emotional powers from the ages of 35 to 60."

Vanessa smiled.  "I wonder how far I should take it with this boy.  I don't want to get in trouble."

"Trouble?" said Brooke.  "The only one in trouble is this boy - trust me!"

Vanessa repositioned her snug bottom on the couch.  Just thinking of what happened was getting her hot.  "Get this, Brooke," she said.  "The whole time I was disciplining him, he had this hilarious little erection poking out in his pants."

Brooke threw back her head and laughed.  "Of course he did!  And I'm glad you noticed.  Did you point out his erection to him?"

?No.?

?Why not??

"I don't know," said Vanessa.  "I guess I want to move slowly with him."

Brooke contemplated her friend's comment.  "I think that's a good strategy," she said.  "The truth is, I can guarantee you this boy is just begging to be taken in hand.  You could do it tomorrow if you wanted to.  But there's something extra satisfying about doing it gradually."

Vanessa smiled.  Brooke was so sharp.  "So what would you recommend?"

Brooke contemplated momentarily.  "By washing his mouth out, you've established a wonderful disciplinary foothold with him.  His erection was an indication that, willingly or not, he enjoyed being put in his place.  At the same time, I'd wager that his male ego is resisting the process.  Now is the time to break down his ego.  You have the easiest solution in the world:  The penis!"

Vanessa laughed.  This was so much fun!  "What about his penis?"

Brooke continued: "The penis never lies.  His erection was a clear sign that he's ready to submit to Female Supremacy.  While you were putting him in his place today, his ego was telling him one thing, but his penis - the thing that defines him as a male - was standing at full attention, saluting your superiority.  By assaulting him with your body, with your smell, with the power of your femininity, his penis went into full salute - full surrender mode if you will - even if his brain wasn't ready to.  If there's one ultimate law of female supremacy it's that the penis leads, and the male brain follows." 

Brooke spent the next few minutes suggesting a plan.  When she was done, Vanessa's smile could have lit up the entire mansion.  This was going to be great.

______________________________________

The next day, Roger was busy wiping down the front desk.  Kristin, that stupid bitch, had him on clean-up duty while she chatted up a pair of women in their late 20s who were waiting for their doubles partners to arrive.  Roger felt searing resentment as he wiped away, yet when he took a moment to think of Kristin telling him what to do, he felt a brief stirring in his groin.  Fuck that, he said to himself, and pushed it out of his head. 

"Psst, Roger."  He looked up and found himself facing Maya, the club manager.  Maya was an attractive Hindi woman with a nice, tight body.  She was also a hell of a tennis player.  "Mrs. Cromwell needs to see you in her office."

Roger's heart jumped.  He immediately broke into a cold sweat.  "What does she want?" he feigned toughness.

"I have no idea," said Maya.  "Do you want me to ask her?" she said raising her eyebrows.

********

"Come stand in front of me, Roger," said Mrs. Cromwell.

Roger tried like crazy to stay calm as he approached Mrs. Cromwell who once again was dressed to the nines.  What a gorgeous, cosmopolitan woman she was.  And she just sat there, stringing him along, keeping him guessing, as she eyed him up and down.  As he felt her eyes over him, Roger felt the inevitable expansion take place in his pants.  What was it about this fucking woman that made him lose control?

"How are we today, Roger?" she finally asked.

"I'm fine, ma'am."

"Did you bring your soap with you?"

The question caught him off guard.  Thinking she'd never bug him again he'd left the soap in his room at home.  "I- I forgot it, ma'am," he said.

"You forgot it?" she looked at him sternly.  "What did I tell you about the soap?"

"You told me to bring it with me," Roger said, beginning to steam but at the same time growing harder and harder at her high-handedness.

"No.  I told you to carry it with you at all times.  You aren't too bright, are you?"

Roger's irritation along with his penis rose another notch.  "I don't know," he said.

Vanessa loved stringing him along this way.  She reflected again on how easy it was to push his buttons, to manipulate him, and she thirsted for the next step.  "What do you think I should do about this?  What would you do if you were me?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know.  I don't know," she mimicked him.  She could tell he was angry and this would make things even more enjoyable.  Extending her pointer finger at his groin, she said, "It looks like your penis is excited, Roger.  Same way it was yesterday."  She paused to let her words sink in.  "What?  You think I didn't notice your disgraceful lack of control?  Really, what do you think we should do about this?"

Roger felt his knees go weak.  His mind went reeling with fury.  The way she cavalierly exposed what he thought was his private kingdom, his penis, shocked him to the core.  "I don't know," he said again. 

Vanessa uttered a disgusted sigh.  "I think it's clear the soap didn't do the trick."  She stood in front of him and he felt her scent float up into his nasal passage.  "Spread your legs," she said.

Roger’s mind was on the verge of explosion.  What on earth was happening here?  He felt his legs move apart as though she had a remote control leg-spreader in her possession. 

"Further!" Vanessa said.  She felt a tingle in each nipple.  It wouldn't be long before she became moist.  She waited for him to acknowledge her latest command.  Once he did, she continued the verbal assault.  ?I think it’s clear you would benefit greatly from a swift knee to the groin.  Don’t you, Roger??  She locked her eyes on him and smiled, while casually placing her hands on her hips and jutting her crotch out ever so slightly. 

?Um, I don’t know,? Roger said after a long delay where his male mind tried to process what was happening.

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Vanessa thrust her knee forward and upward at its intended target.  She felt the hard bone of her knee cap made solid contact with his groin.  The temporary softness of his groin gave way to the hardness of what she guessed was his tailbone.  With great pleasure, she watched as Roger's eyes grew big as saucers.  She stepped back and studied him as he doubled over in pain. 

Oh my god, she thought to herself.  That felt so good. 

Roger didn't know why he had so readily agreed to spread his legs.  He knew what she was going to do to him.  Talk about the ultimate indignity, or so he thought at the time.  Unbeknownst to him, far worse indignities awaited him.  This little woman, this fucking middle aged bitch!  How could he let this happen to him?  Why didn't he leave?  It was a great mystery to him.  How could he have stood there and allow this fucking cunt rag to give him a humiliating knee to the balls?  He doubled over as the pain entered his stomach.  It was all he could do to keep from collapsing on his knees.  His instinct told him to run, but he remained standing there.  In the process of doubling over, he'd caught sight of Mrs. Cromwell's midsection, the hump in her crotch a few tantalizing inches away.  Again, that funny feeling returned.  Although he should have been furious - No, he should have grabbed her by the neck, instead he grunted "Thank you," as he tried to catch his breath.

"What was that?" the female voice of authority said. 

"Thank you," he muttered, still doubled over.

Her laughter filled the room, and once again Roger was filled with rage. 

"You see that, Roger," she said.  "You like it.?   Vanessa felt a surge of confidence.  Her instinct took over.  ?I want you to admit that you like it and ask me very politely to knee you there again."

Roger attempted to straighten himself.  He looked down at her sexy pump, which was tapping on the floor.  "I don't like it," he said suddenly and without conviction.

He felt her finger beneath his chin, an unstated demand for him to look at her.  "Roger," she said.  "Your penis likes it."  She reached out and gave Roger’s groin a quick pinch.  She felt the hard penis beneath the fabric of his pants and her pinch lingered for a pregnant second before she released her grip. 

That was it.  He pulled away and made his way for the door.  Enough of this crazy, psycho bitch.  Her sweet, feminine laughter followed him as he walked across the office.  "Oh Roger, you aren't really going to walk away, are you."  It was a command, not a question, and it stopped him in his tracks.

Roger still felt the impact of her grip on his private part.  That little squeeze.  Man, did it send him for a loop!  Feelings surged through him, the likes of which he’d never felt in his entire life.

With each passing moment, Vanessa’s confidence continued to surge.  "Come back and stand in front of me right now," she said.  It was an order, but it was voiced in a gentle feminine voice designed to confuse and manipulate its male prey.

The voice rattled inside Roger’s brain.  As though possessed, Roger did as he was told.  Like a robot, he returned to the spot where he had been kneed a moment ago.  He felt his cock ache in his pants.  It wanted more and it kept him from leaving. 

She smiled victoriously as he approached her.  "You see, Roger?" she said.  "Your penis is facing the ceiling just like it was yesterday.  I want you to admit to me you like this, just like your penis is admitting you like it.  Then I want you to ask me very politely to knee you again."

"I-I-" he stammered.  He couldn’t believe the way she just said the word like it was nothing.  Your penis.

She spoke gently, though her words were not the least bit vague.  ?Do it now.?

Roger’s lust was getting the better of him.  He suddenly had this intense urge to be naked for Mrs. Cromwell, to jerk off.  His cock absolutely throbbed.  She was right.  He liked it.

"I like it, ma'am," he admitted, choking back confessional tears.  "Please Mrs. Cromwell.  Please knee me again."

Vanessa's smile once again glowed.  "Where shall I knee you, Roger?"

"In the groin."  Roger was dizzy with a combination of excitement and bewilderment.

?Be more specific.?

?In the nuts,? he whispered.

Vanessa positioned him so he was standing in the corner.  She wanted to make this one count.  She could feel moisture now seeping from her crotch.  It was a good thing she'd thought ahead and worn a small pad today.  As a woman she always thought ahead, as opposed to this big dog salivating in front of her.  What a contrast.  "Take your pants down," she said.  "But leave your underwear on.  That way I know exactly where to aim." 

Roger obeyed in a flash.  He was in total heat.  He would have done whatever she told him to do at this point.  All sense of reason had left him.  He wore boxer briefs.  His 5" cock strained upward against the briefs.  A wet spot was quite apparent.  The erection left his nuts dangerously exposed, their outline clear through the thin fabric of the briefs. 

Vanessa put her hands on his shoulders again.  She pushed her knee against his crotch and held it there.  "Like I said, Roger.  Penises never lie.  Now ask me nicely one more time."

This bitch was getting off on this!  For a brief moment, the male ego rose in Roger, but then he felt her knee rubbing against his groin and it left him again.  "Please Mrs. Cromwell knee me in the balls."

Vanessa didn't move.  "Ask me with more feeling," she said.  "If I'm going to go out of my way to do this for you, I want to feel appreciated."

He asked again.  This time, before he could finish, Vanessa pulled back her well-toned leg and stepped into it.  Time to go for the kill.  Time to jolt his balls into next week.  Time for some real payback for his rudeness, for his maleness. 

Her right thigh pivoted on the axis of her stationary left thigh, smoothly flexing backward and then forward again with more-than-sufficient force: 

WHAM!

?Mmph.?  She groaned with satisfaction as she delivered the blow.  Amazingly her knee lifted him up to his tippie toes as he tried unsuccessfully to absorb his punishment.  Vanessa sorely wished someone had taken a photograph at the moment of impact.  It would have been a treasured keepsake. 

The look of surprise and disbelief on Roger’s face was priceless.  ?Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh!? he groaned in what could best be described as the sound of total defeat.  Then he collapsed on the floor and brought his knees to his chest, his hands searching for his groin in an unsuccessful attempt to sooth the deep pain in his stomach. 

Feeling a great sense of accomplishment, Vanessa walked back to her desk and sat down.  "Put your pants back on and get out of my office," she said.  "Now," she added.

End Chapter 2 - MORE SOON TO COME!