Odd Jobs

It was a fine Saturday afternoon and I was in a foul mood. No reason for it. I'd just woken up that morning feeling as though I wanted to kick the cat and for some reason my mood hadn't improved.

Maybe if I'd had something to do my mood might have improved, but I didn't. I didn't want to go out and I didn't want to stay home. The only reason I did stay home was that I was likely to dong some idiot for the crime of being an idiot. Perfectly reasonable thing to do in my opinion, but cops don't look at that way. They think you donging someone puts you in the idiot category.

So I stayed and home, sullen and morose. I almost smiled when the doorbell rang. A victim I could snarl at. Maybe someone who wants me to change power company. Perhaps a politician to whom I could explain everything that the politicians were doing wrong. I love explaining things to politicians. They have to stand and take it because they want your vote. Jehovah Witnesses were good, too. You can get them started, become distracted, and have then start again from scratch. It's amazing how long you can torment those people.

It was a young lady at the door. Eighteen, nineteen at the most. Quite an attractive young thing wearing yoga-pants and a form fitting top and that was quite a form that the top was fitting. It took me a few moments to recognise her. She was Miranda, the daughter of some people who live just down the road. I can't stand her parents.

I just stood there, glowering at her, which seemed to make her somewhat nervous. Seeing I didn't speak she finally had to.

"Ah, good afternoon, Mr Stafford," she mumbled. "Um, I'm looking for some work. Do you happen to have any odd jobs that I could do?"

"Do I look helpless?" I snarled. "Too old and feeble to do my own work?"

"Ah, no, sir," she said quickly. "Sorry, sir. I won't bother you again."

She was almost cringing as she backed up, all servile good manners. If she'd had any guts she should have snapped back at me.

"Hold it," I said as she started to turn tail and run.

She paused, all set to bolt for dear life.

I looked her over. She really did have a nice little figure.

"Tell you what," I said with an evil smile. "Fifty bucks to come inside and have me spank your bottom."

I expected her to bolt at that stage. Instead she stood there, looking shocked, her face going red and then pale. I thought I saw an edge of temper showing.

"You have got to be kidding?" she said.

"Why? I'm in the mood to spank someone and you're right here. You might have been sent here for just that reason."

"Do you seriously think I'd let you spank me?" she demanded.

"For fifty bucks? Highly likely," I said.

"You're crazy," she decided.

"And you're still standing there which shows that you're thinking about it," I pointed out.

Not only thinking about it but getting slightly excited at the idea. Her nipples had peaked, although I doubt she had noticed.

"Only because I was so shocked I couldn't believe my ears," she retorted.

"Well, to shock you a little more, the spanking will be on your bare bottom. You'll have to peel of those yogi bear pants you're wearing. Won't that be interesting?"

"Yoga pants. They're called yoga pants, not Yogi Bear."

"It'll be your bottom that will be bare," I agreed. "Not the pants."

"And even if I did agree to be spanked why would I take of my clothes? You'd probably try to rape me. I know your type."

"Really? Been spanked often have you? You'd have to take off your pants because it wouldn't be a real adult spanking if you didn't. It'd only be a child's smack on the bottom. As for rape, I wouldn't bother unless you asked me to. Of course, if you decide to seduce me you'll find me a pushover."

"I have no intention of seducing you," she snapped.

"Then there's no problem, is there," I said, opening the door wider and indicating she should come in.

She looked from me to the open door and back to me.

"What on earth makes you think I'm going to come in?" she wanted to know.

"Because you're curious," I said. "You're wondering what it will be like to be spanked. Forget your yoga pants. You're wondering what it will be like to take off your panties in front of me, knowing you'll be half naked and I'll be looking at you."

It was interesting watching her face. She wanted to deny what I'd said but she'd been thinking about it. I think the aura of disbelief I projected swung the decision in my favour. She wanted to show that she wasn't scared. Head high she marched past.

"Just remember, I'm only agreeing to a spanking. That's it," she insisted.

"Certainly," I agreed. "Just a spanking and only a mild one at that."

She looked at me suspiciously.

"What do you mean by that crack?" she wanted to know.

"I was assuming that you wouldn't be happy if the spanking left you seeking medical attention," I said. "Nor would you want to be in a position where you felt you had to show your bottom to your mother to make sure it wasn't broken. Ipso facto, that means a mild spanking."

"Ipso facto?" she scoffed.

"It's what people with pretentions to erudition say when they don't want to use a plebeian word like therefore. It makes us sound very learned and intelligent."

She just gave me a look and moved on into the house. Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly, and there she was.

I closed the door and moved in after her and sat down in a comfortable armchair.

"OK, you can start taking of your yogi pants any time now," I told her.

"Yoga. Yoga pants." She gave me a nasty look. I just smiled back at her.

"If you're feeling shy I don't mind helping," I offered, and received an even nastier look. Really, I was just trying to be helpful.

She slowly slid her yoga pants down, muttering to herself. She stepped out of them and threw me a look. After that she started sliding her panties down, turned away from me so I wouldn't see anything, and muttering even louder. I hoped that it wasn't me she was describing.

Naked from the waist down she faced me, hands crossed discretely in front of her groin. I laughed.

"Don't be silly," I said, reaching over and gently pushing her hands to her sides. "You're really very lovely standing there, even if you are half naked."

"I prefer the term nude," she grumbled.

"No," I said decisively. "You're too conscious of the fact that you're half naked. Nude is more a case for when your nudity is irrelevant. Naked is for when you're sexually aware that you have no clothes on."

"Actually," I said, "you'd probably be better off taking off your top as well."

"What? Why?"

"Half undressed like that you're coming across as a sexual tease, even though I'm sure you don't mean to. It's the way you'd dress when you want to drive your boyfriend wild. Taking off your top you'd probably be able to adjust your thinking to nude rather than naked and nudity isn't such a big turn on. Appreciated, by all means, but not nearly as lust arousing."

She only hesitated for a moment. Being told that you're a sexual tease and knowing you're half naked can make a girl nervous. It was easier to just go on with the undressing and being nude. She quickly stripped out of her top and bra, not looking at me while she did so.

Standing there naked (not nude, but naked) she didn't try to cover her breasts or groin. I guess she realised that I'd just make her shift her hands. She was breathing harder, her breasts heaving slightly, her nipples well and truly erect. She was highly aware of her own body right then. I was willing to bet that if she'd been standing with her legs parted a little more I'd see that her pudenda was swollen and her inner labia peeping out. Not that I mentioned any of that.

I didn't mind letting her see the appreciation I felt. She really was a lovely thing and it didn't hurt to let her know I thought so. I patted my knee, indicating where I wanted her. For a moment she didn't move and then she edged forward.

I eased her over my lap into a comfortable position. Well, as comfortable as any position can be when you know you're going to be spanked. She carefully kept her legs together, not that it helped her much. I could still see enough to see that I was right about the state of her pudenda.

My hand settled lightly on her bottom, gently rubbing across it, coming close to the gap at the top of her legs but not probing into it. Yet.

She squirmed a little restlessly, wanting to know why I hadn't started but not game to ask. After all, asking might cause the spanking to start. I finally delivered a nice little spank to her bottom. I popped her bottom, really, using a curved hand that resulted in a lot of noise but not much in the way of a spank. She jumped and squealed but then seemed to settle down as if embarrassed. I mean, really, squealing for a little pop like that?

With the ice broken I started spanking properly. Sort of. The spanking at this stage was more a series of hard pats, enough to let her know she was being spanked and a warning that things would get worse. After warming her bottom for a few moments, not even hard enough to deliver a flush to her cheeks, I upped the ante a little. The spanks would have been starting to sting. Not hard enough to make her protest, but stinging all the same. Now a flush was starting to develop.

I carried on like this, taking my time, waiting until she started trying to distract me from the spanking. Maybe she wouldn't do in consciously but I had no doubt as to what was going to happen.

Sure enough she relaxed her legs, letting them drift apart. When they were parted far enough I dropped a single smart slap onto her pudenda. She squealed and jerked her legs back together.

"I'll thank you to be a bit more careful about where you're placing your hand," she snapped.

"Eh?" I said. "Sorry." I moved my hand from where it had been resting on her back, sliding it under her to cup a breast.

"Not that hand," she choked out.

"Oh. Sorry again," I said. "You mean watch where I spank. OK. I'm on it."

I delivered a nice little spank to each cheek to show I was indeed, on it. I quite forgot to remove my hand from where it was cupping her breast, but it felt fine to me and she didn't complain again.

Her legs parted again and this time I waited for a few moments, watching her slowly relax. When she was relaxed enough another spank landed on her pudenda, making her gasp. The gasp I didn't mind, as she didn't accompany it with a protest and her legs stayed where they were.

From then on I interspersed little slaps to her pudenda with the spanks that landed on her bottom. Where her bottom was concerned no individual spank was hard enough to really hurt but combining them all together she now had a nice glow to her behind. I had to be careful as if I went much longer I might start to bruise her and I didn't want to do that. At the same time the slaps that happened to land on her mound were certainly enough to keep her arousal building. The flush on her mound had nothing to do with being spanked. It also seemed to me that I'd have to slow down my attention in that area or my hand might cause a small splash.

Miranda was starting to squirm about now, uncomfortable from the spanking, twice as uncomfortable from the arousal. Also, it appeared there was something digging into her side. Her hand came up to push it to one side, grabbed a hold, and then abandoned her prize with a startled gasp. Not wanting her to be uncomfortable I took a moment to unzip and adjust my cock so it was no longer digging into her.

Decisions, decisions. If I finished the spanking did I trust to luck that she'd want to seduce me? I thought not. I left her bottom alone, raining a series of quick spanks down on her pussy.

"What do you think you are you doing?" she demanded. "You stop that."

"Don't worry about it," I told her. "I'm just finishing things off."

Was I ever. A few more sharp slaps to her pudenda and she climaxed, kicking and squealing as she did so. As her climax died off she just sagged across my lap, totally boneless. I took her hand and gave her something firm to grasp and waited, continuing to idly rub her breast while I did so.

She slowly gathered her wits together, taking stock of her situation. I had no idea what sort of conclusions she would draw. Whatever they were, they weren't telling her to let go of my cock. Time to move things along, I decided.

"OK, Miranda, up we get," I urged, easing her off my lap and onto her feet. I did it slowly so she wouldn't feel required to release me. She stood in front of me, giving me a confused look.

"What did you just do to me?" she wanted to know, still breathing hard.

"Just a spanking," I said innocently. "That's what I said I was going to do."

My hands closed over her bottom and I pulled her closer to me. Now she did let go of me, but she was standing there straddling my legs.

"Just sit and relax for a moment," I told her and she started to do so.

Only started, because she suddenly found that my cock was rearing up between her legs, and was now pressing against her lips. Lips that didn't seem to have any problems reaching for me, I might add.

"You said spanking only," she managed to gasp out.

"I know. I also said that I'd permit you to seduce me if you wanted to as I'm a sucker for a lovely lady."

My hands were resting on her hips and I pressed down slightly, urging her to keep on moving. She hesitated for another moment and then she was sinking down, her lips parting and letting my cock past.

"But, but this isn't fair," she whined, sounding a little sorry for herself. Feeling sorry didn't seem to be hampering her ability to sit fully upon my offering, taking the full length with no problems.

"I know," I said unctuously, "but I'll forgive you."

She looked rather indignant at that, trying to give me a nasty look. She failed miserably, being too interested in what my cock was doing inside her. Now that she was nicely settled I shifted my hands from her hips to her breasts.

I didn't rush things at all, just waiting until she was ready. Seeing she was theoretically on top that put her in charge as she slowly worked out. If she didn't do something she might be sitting there for quite a while.

She started rocking, not moving far, just far enough for my cock to be rubbing against her. She kept at it, breathing slightly harder. I let her go. What she was doing was interesting and enjoyable. I didn't doubt that she'd start putting more bounce into it sooner or later.

It was later, it turned out. She just kept up that gentle rocking for a good five minutes, breathing hard and looking flushed and excited. Eventually lust started to win the day and she was bouncing sliding up and down me quite nicely but, I have to admit, not very fast. As a matter of fact, quite slowly.

The extended action continued for a while. I was starting to get a little frustrated. My cock was telling me to put some oomph into it, some drive. Let your own lustful passions loose and ravish the girl.

"I think it's only fair to warn you," I finally told her, "that very shortly I'm going to pick you up, bend you over the chair, and fuck you so hard your eyes will pop. Just thought I'd mention it."

Would you believe that the blasted girl had the gall to giggle? Not only that but she didn't increase the pace at which she was bouncing by as much as an extra bounce. She just kept slowly bouncing, apparently relishing the action. Or perhaps it was my increased frustration she was relishing.

As far as I was concerned she'd been warned. If this was the way she wanted to play it, sobeit. I'd given her a chance to pick it up a bit and was ignored. Let's see her ignore what follows.

I stood up, lifting her off my cock as I did so. She gave a startled shriek and another shriek when I spun her around and pushed her face down over the arm of the chair. Then I was behind her, driving in fiercely while she shrieked again.

After that things got a little exciting and a little noisy. I was driving in hard, all my frustrations catching up with me and coming out through my cock. Miranda was squealing and carrying on, her bottom bouncing up and down in fine style as she worked hard to keep up with me. Don't get me wrong. Her squeals and screams weren't protests but excitement, with her carrying on and giving her all. No reluctant maiden this.

She must have been deliberately holding herself just below the point where she would climax, using that slow bounce to maintain her heightened awareness. Now that I was pounding in hard and fast she had no more control, climaxing almost immediately. Not me, though. That slow bounce, while interesting, hadn't put me anywhere near ready. The frustration was now gone and I was driving hard for victory.

I kept right on going through her climax, thrusting happily away, slowly starting to get to a position where I could build up to a decent finish. She just lay there trembling for a few moments, then started moving with me again. She'd screamed when she'd climaxed and then shut up. Now she was starting to get vocal again, her bottom once more twitching eagerly as I pressed her hard.

Now I had a problem. Did I try to bring her to another climax, holding off on my own until she was ready, or did I go for broke? The decision was fairly easy. The hell with her. She'd already had two climaxes, so if she missed out on a third then bad luck.

I happily banged away, building up my own excitement, intend on enjoying myself. Miranda was with me every step of the way, her hips working overtime trying to keep up with me. I finally reached where I wanted to be and really cut loose. Miranda, curse her, screamed and climaxed, even as I was doing so, giving her three for the afternoon.

We separated and just sort of lay around for a short while. Then Miranda jumped to her feet, grabbed her clothes, and shot through to the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. Half an hour later she strolled out, calm as you like with not a hair out of place.

"You owe me fifty," she said calmly, "and you tricked me."

I fished for my wallet. I had promised fifty for the spanking.

"Tricked you how?" I asked.

She just looked at me and snorted. She wasn't going to get into that. She was guessing that I'd tie her up in semantics.

"If you're still looking for odd jobs tomorrow, feel free to drop past," I told her.

"Ha. I'll pass on any more spankings," she told me.

"Oh, please. I have no intention of repeating myself. I'll find you a genuine job, like washing the windows. After that I'll take off your clothes, tie you to the bed, and educate you in what happens to gullible young ladies."

"And that is supposed to encourage me to come back?"

"Well, we could scrap the window washing if you think that's going to be too hard."