Devonshire Street is nestled in a quiet suburban area of Lancashire. It contains an almost identical series of modest semi-detached houses, painted in a conforming range of non-flamboyant colors. Its residents are middle class, hard-working families, and the odd aging pensioner. Living together peacefully apart from the odd argument over loud children or car parking.

The fly in the ointment for this peacefulness was William Kenny; he lived with his mother in number 20. Since his father left when he was twelve, it's safe to say he went off the rails. Along with his friends, all graffiti, robberies, and petty vandalism could be traced back to him. Never proven, as he smugly announced any time the finger was pointed at him.

Sarah Kenny, his mother, had all but given up on him. She worked an office job five days a week and would return home to either a message from his school or complaints from a neighbor. If she questioned him, all she got was obscenities and backchat; physically he was already too big for her to chastise. So she had to endure the scornful looks of the neighbors.

Ms. Danvers lived in the last house on the road, number 25. Her house was a replica of herself, immaculately put together and precise in its arrangement. She was stridently attractive, a tall glacial beauty with long red hair always perfectly in place. She was stunning and intimidating in equal measure. You had to look but you daren't get caught looking.

As she parked her car, she glared at the three boys spread out on her wall. Elegantly exiting the car, she strode towards the figures. She stopped in front of William, clearly the leader of the three.

"Kindly remove yourselves from my wall, please, gentlemen," her voice soft and smooth.

"What's in for us?" leered William.

His smirk dropped when he saw Miss Danvers look turn severe towards him. "What was that, boy?" She towered over him, her gaze burning into his eyes.

"Well erm, I said ..." he stumbled over the words, his face reddening as his confidence waned.

"Sorry, what, boy? I can't make out your mumblings," she mocked him with a superior smile.

"I er ... nothing... sorry," William struggled to reply, his friends' muffled laughs behind him strengthening his embarrassment, his face burning in shame.

"Well, I think you and your little friends should vacate my wall and run along, don't you?" She held out her leather gloved hand and pointed the direction.

"Come on," William mumbled to his friends and turned away. He walked head down, trying to keep his flushed red face from them. More importantly from her, why had he crumbled so easily from that woman? His anger grew within as he muttered obscenities to himself, ignoring his friends' ridicule. She would pay for that, he vowed.

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William kept a watch on her house for the next few days, just waiting for an evening when she would go out. He'd made up his mind to break into her house and give her some payback. Vandalism or burglary, he hadn't quite decided on yet; that would come on the night. She had no alarm box so he was sure that would be no problem, just waiting his time. He'd soon wipe that smirk off her face.

At seven she left the house, striding out to her car and pulling away down the street. Now was the time for William; he grabbed a bag of tools and slipped out. The fence was easily climbed and her back door no problem for his crowbar. Everything was as he expected, clean and tidy, immaculate in its precision.

William moved upstairs to the bedroom; that's where the jewelry or money would be kept, he was sure. The bedroom was filled with her perfume; the odor swam around him. He sat on the four-poster bed as he slipped open her drawers; his mouth dropped open as he found her underwear drawer. William ran his hands through the flimsy delicate garments, picking up a small pair of red lace panties.

Bringing them to his face, he inhaled them and grinned as he got his idea for his revenge. "This is for you, stuck up bitch," and unzipped his jeans. He stood, masturbating as he covered his face with the crotch of the panties. Picturing her wearing nothing but these tiny panties, he drooled into them as he stroked. With a groan, he ejaculated over her drawers and mirror, "Take that, you stuck up cow."

Picking up a handful of jewelry into his pocket, he wiped his cock on the panties. As he crept down the stairs, he beamed with self-satisfaction. No woman was going to better him.

"Did you enjoy yourself, boy?" questioned the strident female voice.

William froze; he knew that voice, but she was out. As he turned he saw her, elegantly sitting cross-legged on the sofa glaring at him. 

Miss Danvers could barely contain her disdain for the despicable pathetic boy who stood before her. Her voice grew louder and sterner, "I asked you a question, boy, did you enjoy yourself?"

Wiliam's mind spun as the permutations of his predicament flashed in his head; how was he going to get out of this? With her question, he could only shake his head and mumble an apology.

"You disgusting little toad," she pointed towards the television. The recording of William masturbating in her underwear was showing before him. "Last time I spoke to your mother, she told me your eighteenth had just been. So now you're no longer a juvenile, you'll be sentenced for this as an adult." She stood upright. "And this, you little pervert, is enough to go on the sex offenders registration."

"Oh no!" he whined as tears came to his eyes. He leaned back against a table to keep from collapsing. "Please don't tell the police. I'll make it up to you, please, I'll do anything." The tears fell down his cheeks as he pleaded.

"You pathetic little boy," she mocked the whimpering figure in front of her. She leaned down and collected his face in one gloved hand, "I have recorded this and will happily send it to the police anytime you displease me, do you understand?"

The broken boy helplessly nodded his assent.

"You will return here tomorrow noon, where you will clean up your mess and begin to repay me for tonight's disgusting show."

"Yes, I will," the sobbing boy nodded.

A short sharp slap bounced on his face. "It's Miss Danvers to you, boy!"

"Yes, Miss Danvers," the stunned boy replied.

"Now get out of my sight, you disgust me." Another slap to the face sent the boy home.

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As William lay on his bed, he openly cried for the first time in years. Not only from being caught and humiliated but how easily he had crumbled again before her. And now, she had him cornered. Hers to use as she saw fit and there was nothing he could do about it.

At noon, William was on time and entered the house in trepidation. She looked more impressive every time he saw her; she was stunningly beautiful but she struck fear into him with a gaze.

"Well, today you will clean up the mess you made. All the underwear will need washing, as will the drawers and the mirror. I want that bedroom spotless when I return." She looked majestic in a tight-fitting red dress, showing every inch of her impressive figure. "I have to go to price a replacement door that some little prick has broken."

William bowed his head and blushed, "I really am sorry, Miss Danvers."

"Well, the only good thing to come out of this will be you finally learning your place." She beckoned him to the table. "Drop your pants and bend over," tapping the table as she ordered.

"What, you can't be serious?" William's last bastion of resistance spoke.

A short slap to his face broke that resistance. "Don't you dare question me, boy, do it and do it now!"

Red-faced William undid his jeans and slipped them down, shuffled towards the table.

Miss Danvers aggressively forced his face to the table and pulled down his boxers. She stroked his bare bottom. "This is actually quite a nice bottom, boy." 

William wriggled as Miss Danvers stroked her gloved finger over his virgin hole; nobody had ever touched him there and he found himself aroused. As she popped a finger in the hole, he let out a loud groan.

"Oh, I think somebody's starting to enjoy himself." Sliding her finger in deeper, she mocked him. She withdrew the finger and pressed a buttplug up to the tight hole. "This is a buttplug, boy, you're going to keep this in till I return. Don't you dare think to remove it." She screwed the lubed plug delicately up the tight boy.

William gripped the table edges as the plug popped in; it felt alien to him. Something stretched his hole, feeling wrong but also arousing him.

Slapping his butt, Miss Danvers picked up her keys. "When I return, the washing will be done, the bedroom will be cleaned and I will inspect you, so jump to it." With a swish of her flaming red hair, she had left.

William started on the underwear, putting it in the washing machine. The upside of having one parent was learning how to use the washing machine. Next, he set off to clean the bedroom, wash it all down, hoover around, and polish what he'd ruined.

As he pegged up the numerous sexy pieces of underwear, he prayed no one would see him, the uncomfortable plug a constant reminder of Miss Danvers.

At her return, Miss Danvers inspected his work, checking the washing and running her finger over the bedroom. "Not bad, boy." She sat on the edge of the bed and patted her knee. "Drop your pants and get over." She parted his cheeks to expose the plug. "Very good, boy, from now on anytime you're in my house, you will wear a plug." She sleekly removed it with an audible pop.

As William pulled up his jeans, she passed him a box. "This is a douche you will use before you arrive here. It will clean you out for your plug. Understand?"

William nodded; the shame and embarrassment was almost the norm for him now.

As Miss Danvers rose, she held his chin. "I want you back here at eight tonight."

"Yes, Miss Danvers," and he made his way back into the real world.

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When William arrived on time, he was mentally prepared for anything, or so he thought. He had cleaned himself, as he expected that thing to be put back in him at any time and was ready as he could hope for what Miss Danvers next had in mind.

"Ah, William." Miss Danvers opened the door, resplendent in a shiny PVC red dress, so tight she must have been squeezed into it. "Come through to the kitchen."

William followed, transfixed by her swaying hips. As she patted the tabletop, he immediately knew what was required of him, dropping his jeans and bending over the surface.

"Oh, you are a quick learner." She playfully patted his cheeks. "I think tonight we'll have a pink plug for you. Shows so nice against your pale bottom." She dripped a little lube on his hole. "Oh, and you've cleaned too. Good boy." Slowly she slid the plug into his tight hole.

Miss Danvers strode from the kitchen into the darkened living room. "Come." She clicked her fingers at him to follow.

As he peered in the darkroom, Miss Danvers turned on a sidelight illuminating her on the sofa. She beckoned him nearer with her finger.

"Remove your pants and get over my knee," she ordered as she pointed where she wanted him. She forced him into position across her, stroking his pale soft cheeks.

"Now I have spoken to the neighbors and at least four have genuine complaints about you. You smashed Mrs. Green's fence, you wrote obscenities on Mrs. Bryne's wall, threw garbage over your neighbor Mrs. Dooley's garden and poor Sally Jones, well, you have tormented her through school and now continue with sexist comments whenever she passes. Are you going to argue on any of these complaints?"

"No, Miss Danvers, it was me." William just wanted his latest humiliation to end.

"Good boy. It will be twenty spanks for each offense. Now take it like a man for once in your life." Miss Danvers was a very experienced spanker; she hit hard and direct. She had turned many a strong-willed man into a blubbering little boy in her hands. This little boy was never going to be a challenge.

As the spanks bounced off his cheeks, the pain grew. He tried to take it quietly like a real man but as the tears started to drop, he wailed. Miss Danvers' harsh voice sounding out the numbers was the only thing that cut through the noise of his spanks. Each time he tried to wriggle away, the spanks got even harder and he relented.

The bright bottom glowed under her strong hand; the cocky, arrogant boy had disappeared, replaced by a crying, whimpering, broken bitch of a boy. With the last hard slap, Miss Danvers stroked the pitiful boy's sore bottom. "Good little boy, I didn't think you had it in you. Say 'Thank you, Miss Danvers, for making me your little bitch.'"

William sobbed, "Thank you, Miss Danvers, for making me your little bitch." His ass burned from the pain and humiliation.

"Now stand up and take a bow to your audience." Miss Danvers pulled him up and turned him to the darkened end of the room.

As the lamp switched on, William saw the gleeful faces of Mrs. Green, Mrs. Byrne, Mrs. Dooley, and Sally. They applauded and wolf-whistled William's star turn, finally seeing his comeuppance.

"I told you, ladies, you would enjoy tonight," turning William around to show off his pretty red ass. Miss Danvers spread his cheeks to expose his pink butt plug to the ladies. "Told you he was a little bitch."

"Judging by his cock, he enjoyed it too," mocked Mrs. Bryne.

William felt he would pass out from the increasing embarrassment, his hard cock giving away his arousal at her hands.

"From next week, you are going to fix all the problems you have caused for these ladies. They will keep me informed on the developments and it had better be good news. If one lady comes back unimpressed, you will be sorry, understand?" She squeezed hard on his balls.

"Oh yes, Miss Danvers." He wanted the world to swallow him up and take him away from these laughing women. How had his world turned upside down so quickly, why had he so meekly accepted it?

"Well, goodnight, ladies. I'm afraid I have some more chores for the boy to do tonight." Miss Danvers walked the ladies to the door, exchanging jokes at his expense.

"Now collect the ladies' glasses and wash the dishes," as she relaxed herself upon the sofa, proudly watching the boy's cute red ass wiggle as he worked. He had gone even better than she hoped. And she had only just started.