When I woke up the sun was just coming up. It was going to be another fine day. I could hear a bird singing its heart out just outside my window. Probably what woke me up - an early bird after the worm. I hoped the worm was big enough to wrap itself around the freaking bird's throat and strangle it, the noisy little bugger. I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to doze off again.
It was no use. Now that I was awake I was really awake. Grumbling to myself I dragged myself out of bed and headed towards the kitchen and coffee, giving Mike a kick as I got out of bed. If I wasn't sleeping in then neither was he. Anyway, he had to go to work.
I was, for the interim, out of a job. The firm I'd been with had folded, unable to compete with the big boys selling things over the internet. I was looking, but work was scarce.
Then I remembered that today was the day I had to go and clean George's house. George is a neighbour. A single man in his thirties who hates housework. Since I was currently unemployed I'd offered to do his housework once a week. Just the general stuff, mopping, vacuuming, sweeping, dusting, the things that a man has no clue on. For this arduous work he granted me a pittance, but it was better than having no money at all.
Still, remembering that I had to get out there and work did not improve my mood. Neither did running out of milk and having to drink black coffee. Mike didn't help at all when he complained about his breakfast and complained about us having no milk. It wasn't me who forgot to buy it on his way home last night.
What with one thing and another, the bad mood I'd been in when that damned bird began its morning serenade had morphed into a mood that would send rabid dogs fleeing from me. That was the mood I was in when I headed over to George's place to do the housework.
Of course, my mood was improved no end to find that today George was working from home. Why today? I did not need some man looking over my shoulder while I worked. OK, I knew that he would be on the computer the entire time I was there but it would feel like he was watching me and criticising. Oh, yes, having George there to supervise did wonders for my mood.
I crashed around the house doing the cleaning. The only time I slowed down was when I dusted off various ornaments. I could just see them getting knocked over. The way things were today I'd probably be able to lay one gently on a pillow and have it break, so I was cautious. Floors, on the other hand, are renowned for not breaking, no matter how rough you treat them. That was fortunate for George's floors.
I will concede that I may have been a bit curt when I asked George to move away from his computer so I could dust and vacuum around it, but I'm sure I wasn't actually rude. Fairly sure, anyway.
With that out of the way I was back to doing the rest of the house. George promptly irritated me by deciding to go into my nice clean kitchen and make himself some coffee.
"That floor is wet, you know," I pointed out. I was going to have to mop his footprints off again, wasn't I?
"Bit snarky this morning, aren't you?" he asked.
"No, I'm not," I snapped.
"Could have fooled me," he said. "I'd say it was that time of the month but you had that last week."
How dared he.
"Fuck you," I said, giving him a baleful look.
"Hum. Is this your way to working up to tell me that you're quitting and won't be doing my housework anymore?"
"What? No. However, if you're unhappy with my work. . ." I left it at that, furious with myself. It wasn't that I really needed the job but the extra money did come in handy. Mike was a bit tight at times.
"No. Your work's fine. Your attitude right now could be a tad better. Perhaps your husband should apply a small beating or some vigorous loving to help get you into the right frame of mind."
My baleful look returned. He was laughing at me. How dare he?
"Mike wouldn't dare," I said through gritted teeth.
"Perhaps he should learn to," the uncouth brute suggested. "For two cents I'd put you across my knee and spank you myself."
Oh, wow, the masterful man, beating his chest and demonstrating his manliness. I didn't take my eyes off him as I reached for my purse. It just so happened I had two cents in my purse. I took it out and slapped it on the counter in front of him.
George looked at the two cents and started laughing. To my surprise he picked it up and stuck it in his pocket. I thought what the hell and then found out exactly what the hell.
He swung a chair out from the kitchen table and sat on it and at the same time he took hold of my arm and pulled. He was a rather large man and I was rather petite, so when he pulled I moved. Maybe not willingly, but I moved, finishing up lying across his lap.
He wouldn't dare, I thought, and he promptly proved me wrong. He flicked my dress up and my panties down and my bare bottom was now right there in front of him. I didn't even get a chance to ask him what he thought he was playing at when his hand came down firmly upon my poor bottom.
I shrieked and started struggling and a lot of use that was. Neither the shrieking nor the struggling made any difference, except, perhaps, to make him laugh harder. He just bounced his hand off my bottom and his hand was hard while my bottom was soft and you can guess which one came out the winner.
I yelled at him and it was quite possible I used a few unladylike words to describe him and his character, going back five generations. His reaction?
"Language, please," he said, bouncing an extra hard spank off my bottom.
The whole thing was dreadful. I'd never been spanked like that in my life. You can guess how relieved I was when he swung me back on my feet.
"That's all you get for two cents," he said cheerfully. "If you want more you'll need to make another payment."
I just stood there, hands clutching my poor bottom, finding it hard to believe he'd just done that.
"You. . . You. . ." I stuttered and he just smiled and said, "Yeees?"
"How dare you do that," I managed to say, pleased to find I wasn't just shrieking incoherently. "And to pull down my panties? How dare you?"
