Chapter One
On my 25th birthday, I gave myself the best present ever: I retired.
Yes, that kid too small to play sports in high school, who had to avoid bullies by hiding in the computer room during lunch, that kid who learned to crack open off-the-shelf programs to rewrite their code for local businesses -- yeah, that kid made enough money in 10 years to retire.
Truth be told, I hated writing code. It was a means to an end. I wouldn't miss the monotony of it at all. I know there are some people that just can't let their businesses go – I wasn't one of those. The happiest day of my life was selling off my client list, depositing those last checks in my back account, and moving out of my parent's basement.
I wasn't a multimillionaire by any means, but I was able to buy a nice annuity that would hopefully grow into multimillions over the next 32 years until I reached age 57 and a half when I could start my "real" retirement. I even had enough left over to buy a duplex that would give me a place to live and have a tenant pay for the rest of my living expenses.
The duplex was in a nice neighborhood and the end of a cul-du-sac. Connected at their garages, each side had two bedrooms and a bath. There was only a small yard out front but the shared backyard was large with a tall fence, nice shade trees, and lots of room. After the papers were signed, I made my last splurge purchase and bought a hot tub.
I didn't want the hassle of dealing with the tenant on the other side, so I hired a management company to take care of it for a small percentage of the rent. I actually didn't want the other tenant to know I owned the property. It wasn't just the legal hassle of being a property manager I didn't want to deal with -- to be honest it was a little more than that -- I was barely 5'1" and 110 lbs. soaking wet, so the thought of confronting an angry tenant terrified me.
I found out the current tenant was Mary Hayes, 51 year old woman who'd already lived there quietly for 13 years. The property manager referred to her as a "spinster" since she was never married and had no children. I took it that Mary would keep to herself and wouldn't make much noise. That suited me just fine.
On moving day I finally met Mary in the backyard. She saw me through her sliding glass door turning on the hot tub and came outside. At 5'10" and "thick" she was physically intimidating. Her greens eyes hid behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. She had red hair with just a few wisps of gray, wide hips, and wore a flower-print sundress that showed just a hint of her ample cleavage.
She put out her hand and smiled, "You must be Jason, the new tenant. The property manager dropped by yesterday and told me about you. I'm Mary Hayes."
Her hand dwarfed mine. "Hi, Ms. Hayes," I said, taking her hand to shake it. To this day I have no idea why I called her Ms. Hayes instead of Mary. I guess it just seemed the "right" thing to do.
She got a comical look on her face. "Ms. Hayes?" She laughed. "I like that. You seem to be a very polite young man and that's a good thing -- I won't tolerate any loud parties or nonsense, Jason."
Her suddenly stern look caught me off-guard. I looked away and ran my hand through the warming water of the hot tub. I was looking forward to relaxing when it finally got hot.
"The new landlord had that delivered yesterday," she said, smiling. "That's a big difference from the previous owner. He never wanted to do anything nice around here."
After a bit of small talk, she left for an appointment that would "take a few hours" and I started to settle into my new place. I had my own garage with a washer and dryer. That was something I'd been looking forward to after using the community laundry room at my old apartment. I decided to strip down, put all of my clothes in the wash, and just wear my swimsuit since I was going to soak in the hot tub anyway.
But after putting everything in the wash, I couldn't find my swimsuit. It must have still been packed in one of the big boxes and I was too tired to look. I wrapped a towel around myself and waited for the first load to get done. After I threw it into the dryer, I figured I had an hour to kill.
Feeling a little mischievous and knowing Mary would be gone for a few hours, I went into the backyard, turned on the bubbles, hung up the towel and slipped completely naked into the hot water. With the high fence and thick trees no one could see into the back yard, so I felt pretty safe although I did get a slight thrill being naked outside. The hot tub had both seats in the corners and reclining areas on each side. I guess I was more tired than I thought because after leaning back into one of the reclining areas, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," I heard a voice say. "Don't you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep in a hot tub?"
I opened my eyes just in time to see Mary in a frilly, pink one piece swimsuit sliding into the water. I started to panic and then realized that the bubbles were keeping her from seeing that I wasn't wearing anything. She took off her glasses and laid them on the towel next to her.
"Um," I stammered, "what happened to your appointment?"
She laughed. "My friend had to cancel our shopping trip. She babysits her grandson and he threw a tantrum, so she didn't want to take him to the store with us."
I slid from the reclining spot to the seat furthest across from her and subconsciously put my hands over my bare crotch, even though I knew she couldn't see anything. "That's too bad he had to ruin your shopping trip."
"Kids these days," she sighed. "Instead of trying to be their friends, their parents and grandparents should spank their little bottoms so they learn to behave."
Hearing the word "spank" come out of her mouth, sent a shock through my body and caused me to clench my anus.
"A child's bottom was made for spanking," she continued. "There's nothing abusive about it. When my nieces and nephews were little, I didn't hesitate to spank their little bottoms when they threw temper tantrums. So, they cry for an hour and they can't sit comfortably for a couple of days, but in the end they learn to be respectful, courteous people."
More shocks. More clenching. My face felt flush. "A couple of days?"
"Sure, if what the child did was truly naughty, then a paddle or belt would be warranted." She smiled at me. "You were never spanked, were you?"
