I suppose you could say it was my own fault. I was on holiday and I suppose I let my hair down a bit. You know how it is. School's over for the year. You're eighteen and away from home. Nothing to do but have a good time. And that's what I was doing. That's all. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Not really.
On this particular day I'd hired a moped and gone for a drive. I was just another teenager buzzing around on this little bike. It was fun. I headed along the coast road for a while, hoping to find a beach that wasn't crowded. Beaches are funny places at times. You'll find one where it's packed and, a mile down the road, same water, same sand, but no people.
I actually found a nice beach. There were people around, but it wasn't a crush. I parked and went down to the beach and relaxed for a while. I had on a sun-dress with my bikini under it. It took one second flat to shed the sun-dress and then I hit the water for a while.
Coming out of the water I wanted a drink and something to eat, and then found out why this beach was under-used. No shops or snack bars available. I just couldn't be bothered going in search of one, so I went for a stroll along the beach. Firstly putting on my sun-dress. Sunburn I did not need.
There were few houses around. A couple of nice holiday homes and that was about it. Then I came across this older place. It was a bit weather beaten and I thought it was deserted. It sure gave that impression. I figured it to be someone's holiday shack, only used when they wanted to rough it for a while.
Now I was starting to feel thirsty again, so I took a stroll around this old place in case they had an outside tap. They didn't, but I did notice one window was broken. Someone had just stuck in a piece of cardboard to block the hole.
I knew I shouldn't, but what the hell? It was only an old shack, after all. I took out the bit of cardboard, reached in and unlocked the window. Pushing it up, I had easy access.
Climbing in I found I'd made a slight error. It wasn't an old shack inside. It was really quite nice. It also had a lived in look and, if I'd had any sense, I'd have got out right then and there. But I was still thirsty.
I looked around and found the kitchen. Very nice. All mod cons. Checking the fridge I found a bottle of cold water, scavenged a glass from the cupboards and had a drink. I also had this little accident. When I went to put the glass in the sink I slipped. Or the glass slipped, anyway. Out of my hand and onto the tiled floor and it just seemed to explode. I was lucky I wasn't cut.
There was nothing I could do about the broken glass. The owner would just have to wear it. It was a cheap glass anyway. Time, I decided, to be on my way.
I was turning to depart when I got this most horrible shock.
"Aren't you going to clean up your mess?" says this deep voice.
Deep? It sounded like a very large dog growling. I turned around and there was this guy leaning against the door, between me and freedom, you might say.
"Brush and shovel in there," he said, pointing to a cupboard. "You'll also find dome old newspapers in there to wrap up the broken glass and a small bin to put the rubbish in.
Now I was not going to try to defy this guy. He'd caught me red-handed, so to speak, and I was in deep shit if he wanted to get nasty. And he was a big man. Over six foot and I'd hate to try and estimate his weight. Let's just say he was big and it wasn't fat.
I meekly got the brush and shovel and cleaned up the glass. I was very apologetic, saying sorry at least a dozen times, explained about being thirsty, and apologised some more. And he just leaned against the door and looked at me as if I was some sort of bug.
Finished with the clean-up I turned to him.
"Um, sorry about that. Didn't mean to. I was just getting a drink. I'll be on my way, shall I?"
"Breaking and entering, theft, vandalism," he said softly. "and you just want to walk away? Yes, I suppose you do."
"It wasn't breaking and entering," I protested. "And I didn't steal anything or do any damage to your place."
"Removing my temporary patch counts as breaking. You entered through the window. You stole some of my water. You smashed one of my glasses. Who knows what more you would have done if I hadn't been here."
Stole his water? That was a bit rich, wasn't it?
"I only wanted a drink of water," I said. "The glass was an accident and I apologised. I was stupid, that's all."
"So dumb I'm surprised you're not blonde," he said, sounding very snarky. "You're a real pain, you know. And such a little thing, too. If you were a fish, I'd throw you back."
Feel free to throw me out, anytime you like. Right now would be good. I thought it, but had enough sense not to say it. I just hung my head and tried to look ashamed instead of angry.
"Well, I don't think you're worth bothering the cops with," he said, and I mentally jumped in the air, shouting "yes". I landed with a nasty mental jolt when he continued.
"I guess I'll just put you across my knee and paddle your backside and then send you on your way."
"Like fuck you will" I thought indignantly. He wouldn't dare.
"You wouldn't dare," I said. "I'd have you charged."
"I'd love to see you explaining it to the police. I can just hear you. Well, officer, this man caught me while I was burglarising his house and he smacked me on the bottom."
The swine gave me an amused look, and I could see his point. I might actually be able to charge him with assault, but I was the one more likely to finish up in a cell.
He straightened up and he suddenly looked even bigger and taller.
"Are you going to cooperate with this spanking," he asked. "Not that it matters. It won't make any difference to the quality of the spanking."
In that case I saw no reason to cooperate. He reached for one of the chairs at the kitchen table to pull it out and I took the chance to try to dodge past him. He didn't even take his hand off the chair. His other hand just shot out and caught my arm and that was it.
He turned the chair around and sat down while I wriggled and tried to pry his hand off my arm. He flipped me across his knee as though I was a child and easily held me there with one hand. I found my dress being lifted and his hand came down hard on my bottom.
I shrieked. Well, wouldn't you with some Neanderthal slapping you around? I had one hand gripping the leg of the chair tightly, while my other hand was trying to fend his hand away from my bottom. That spank had hurt. So did the next one. He was just ignoring my frantically waving hand and I finished up using it to try to cover my bottom. By this time I'd already received four good wallops.
He took hold of my hand and pushed it away from my bottom. I flailed about for a moment and then grabbed one of the back rails of the chair and hung on hard. A couple more spanks and would you believe what the rotten sod did then? He pushed my bikini bottom down so my bottom was bare. Not a little down. Right down to my knees so he could see everything. Rotten swine.
Then he resumed beating me. And while this was going on this little voice is yelling at me, trying to get my attention. I was doing something wrong, but damned if I knew what. Then I twigged, and this time my scream wasn't for the spanking. It was a case of me suddenly asked myself how the fuck I could be holding the back rail of the chair when he was sitting on it. As soon as I asked myself that I just knew what I was gripping so tightly.
You'd think it was a poisonous snake, I let go so fast. That got his attention. He stopped spanking for a moment, his hand relaxed on my poor bottom while he drummed his fingers lightly against my pussy. I couldn't believe his gall. How dare he do that? What he said was worse.
"I don't recall telling you to let go."
