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Karma is a bitch, but that’s OK. So was Lauren, at least, in my opinion. That was why I was heading outside to give karma a helping hand.
Now I suppose that there are those who consider Lauren to be a very nice young woman and think that I’m a bit of a bastard, but they’ve never lived with her. I guess I should give you a bit of background.
I’ve been doing a double degree at university and I’m in my last year. Now, when I started my course I had to look around for a convenient place to live. I lucked out in that search. A group of students had taken a lease on a large house. Unfortunately for one of them, he had a run-in with the police about his habit of selling drugs, leaving the place with one free room, which I managed to get.
It was a nice place with five bedrooms and three bathrooms. Where rent was concerned each bedroom paid twenty percent, plus twenty percent of any utility bills. (Whether a bedroom had one or two occupants was strictly up to the official occupant.) There was a nice back yard, complete with in-ground swimming pool. The pool and surrounds took up most of the yard so yard work was minimal.
The initial occupants were three men and two women, one of whom was Lauren. Lauren was quite a comfortable house-mate. She paid her share and did any chores that she was rostered to do quietly and efficiently. So why did I dislike her?
It was not because we were sexually incompatible. I made a subtle pass at the start of the tenancy and was given an equally subtle brush off. Thanks, but no thanks. That was OK. I was quite capable of chasing down a girlfriend elsewhere. Probably better not to get involved with a housemate.
For the past five years Lauren has been my housemate. She and I are the only two of the original inhabitants still in the house and we’ll both be moving on at the end of this year.
So why do I consider her a bitch? She’s a thief.
Every person who has stayed in the house has lost something to her. Never anything of any importance or value; just things that you wouldn’t notice are missing until you need them, then they’re gone.
When I first noticed the pattern of things going missing I mentioned it to the group and was generally cried down, the others refusing to believe that one of them might be light-fingered, Lauren scornfully leading the charge. After that I stayed quiet, took my personal precautions and observed.
By the end of the year I was almost sure that Lauren was the culprit but with no proof there was no way I was going to accuse her. I tried dropping a subtle hint that I was onto her, only to get a very sweet smile and a very unsubtle “Get fucked, loser.” Subsequently I kept an even closer watch on my things.
So the years passed and my diploma got closer and Lauren continued her thieving ways. Part of my irritation was the sheer senselessness of what she was doing. Her choice of items tended to indicate she only did it for the fun of it. I also heartily disliked the way she commiserated with her victims, suggesting that maybe they lost the item at class or down the street. I thought she might be a kleptomaniac and it wasn’t really her fault, but as far as I knew she just confined her activities to annoying her housemates. I finally decided she did it because she was a bitch.
Finally I lost another item. A nice little black bikini was stolen from my room. Seeing that I’m not going to wear a woman’s bikini Lauren probably thought it was a safe thing to take. I might never miss it and might not even know I had it. I was assuming that Lauren probably thought that one of my girlfriends had left it behind at some stage.
Now things were going my way. It was a beautiful spring day. The first really hot day of the month. The only ones currently at home were myself and Lauren, and Lauren was currently sitting out next to the pool, sunning herself in a very fetching black bikini. I wandered out to the pool, smiling, karma walking with me.
“Lauren,” I said smiling, nodding in greeting.
“Steve,” she acknowledged, not smiling. She knew what I thought of her.
“Nice bikini,” I said.
“Looks just like the one I bought for a friend,” I observed airily. “I seem to have lost that one somehow.”
“Yeah, well this isn’t it,” Lauren was quick to reply, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me I’m going swimming.”
With that she turned and jumped in the pool. I’d rather thought she might, wanting to avoid any insinuations I might come up with. I watched her swim the length and back.
“You know, I don’t really think that that is the bikini I lost,” I told her. “I mean, it’s not as though you’d risk going swimming in the one I had.”
Lauren had been in the pendik escort act of turning to swim back down the pool but now she paused, trying to decipher what I meant.
“Ah, what was wrong with the bikini you lost?” she asked cautiously.
“Oh, there was nothing wrong with it. After all, the warning was quite clearly printed on the package.”
Lauren hesitated, not wanting to ask, but needing to. While she hesitated, I continued.
“Ah. Now that I consider it, I think I took the bikini out of its package. Maybe whoever found it didn’t notice the warning,” I said thoughtfully. “I do hope they don’t go swimming in it.”
“What? There was something dangerous about your bikini?”
“Not dangerous,” I said. “More embarrassing. I mean, what girl would want to find that she’s gone swimming in a soluble bikini.”
“That’s right. I bought it for a friend who wanted to prank his girlfriend. I had to go and get another one. Very irritating, losing the first one.”
“By soluble, you mean it dissolves in water?”
“That is the accepted meaning of soluble,” I said, smiling genially.
For some reason Lauren decided it was time to hop out of the water. That’s when she found that I was holding her towel.
“My towel, please?” she requested, holding out her hand.
“In a moment. Ah, your top seems to be sagging.”
Lauren glanced down at the top half of the bikini that did seem to be sort of sagging down away from her breasts. She hastily grabbed a cup and pulled it back into place, or I assume that was what she intended to do. What she actually did was pull the cup right off, leaving her breast exposed.
She gave a squeak, dropped the bit of bikini and slapped her hand over her breast. I picked up the scrap of material and gently tugged at it, finding it just split apart at the first little tug. Still smiling I reached over and gave a little tug on her other cup, laughing as it came apart. Lauren was now holding her arms folded across her breasts, blushing and glaring at me.
“Give me my towel,” she said, biting off each word.
“Give me my bikini,” I said in reply, and this time I reached down and hooked a finger under the waistband of the bikini. Tried to, anyway. The sodden material just split apart, dropping away from her.
“I do believe that I’ve caught you red-handed with stolen goods,” I said amiably. “Or perhaps I should say, red-faced.”
“My towel,” Lauren pleaded, blushing and trying to cover up.
“Lauren, my love,” I said softly. “You don’t seem to be getting the message. You are a sneaky little thief and I finally have proof. Now it’s a case of what the penalty will be.”
“You can’t prove a thing,” Lauren snapped. “It’ll just be your word against mine. Now give me my bloody towel.”
“You don’t seriously expect to be able to lie your way out of this?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow as a sign of disbelief.
“No-one will believe you,” Lauren insisted. “I’ll just say you’re making accusation because I won’t go out with you.”
“We’ll see. Why do you take things, anyway? It’s just garbage that you seem to nick.”
“It’s fun. It shows that I can. Now, my towel.”
“So you’re saying it boils down to your word against mine. Plus my witness.”
I held up my witness, bringing it to her attention. Her blush went pale as she saw my smart phone was filming everything, including her nudity and her confession. I ostentatiously pushed the power button, shutting down the phone, and put it in my pocket.
One does not argue with a woman. You either arrange things so that you’re in a position to lay down the law or you accept defeat. I was now in the right position.
“Why don’t you step back into the pool and wash the rest of that bikini off and then we’ll go inside and have a little discussion.”
To emphasize that I was serious I moved closer, easing her towards the pool and then giving her a helping hand. She hit with a splash and came up spluttering. She did have the sense, however, to wash off the sticky black mess that had been her purloined bikini.
“My towel, now, please,” she said, climbing back out of the pool.
“Don’t be in such a rush,” I chided her. “Come along and we’ll talk about this.”
I led the way back inside, leaving her no choice but to follow. I couldn’t really see her staying in the yard, naked. As soon as we were in the house Lauren pushed past me, heading for her room.
“Hold it,” I said, capturing her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get some clothes on,” she hissed at me. “Can’t you see I’m naked?”
“Oh, yes,” I said with a big smile. “With both eyes and a good memory, but I think we should have our little maltepe escort chat first.”
With that I headed for the front room, the one we all used as a common room, towing Lauren along behind me. She came, unwilling and fuming, but she came.
“In my opinion,” I informed her, “you’re a bitch and a thief. Now while I could cause you some embarrassment with the others you’d probably cry and say sorry and show a lot of repentance and point out that you never took anything of importance or anything that had real value. While Suzy might be a bit snarky over it you’d probably have the boys apologising for upsetting you.
I could cause you a lot of embarrassment by posting a certain video on the web but that’s sort of a permanent thing to do and I’d rather not.
I’ll make you a deal. I’ll deliver what I think is a fitting punishment. After that you’ll knock off the light-fingered work and I’ll delete the video.”
Lauren stood there, glaring at me. She wasn’t trying to hide her charms any longer but still seemed incensed that I was admiring them.
“Let me guess,” she snapped. “You want me to have sex with you.”
“No such thing,” I said indignantly. “If I want sex I’m quite capable of finding a willing partner. Coercing you into having sex because of this would be the equivalent of rape, and I’ll pass, thank you very much.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Well, your attitude about this has been very childish so I thought I’d deliver a childish punishment. I’m going to put you over my knee and spank you. Isn’t it fortunate that you lost the bikini. You’re appropriately dressed for what I have in mind.”
I sat on the couch and indicated that she should bend over my knee. She looked at me incredulously.
“You can’t be fucking serious. Do you really think I’m going to bend over your knee and let you spank me?”
“Do you want me to tell the others what you’ve been up to and show them my proof?”
She quickly shook her head.
“Do you want the video posted on Youtube?”
“No, damn you.”
“Then I suggest you stop stuffing around and bend over my knee. In case it hasn’t registered with you, I’m seriously pissed off. And you will note that I haven’t demanded repayment for the cost of the bikini you destroyed.”
She had to ask.
“Just how much did that stupid thing cost, anyway?”
“Five dollars,” I admitted, “but it was my five dollars. Enough stuffing around. Come here.”
I put a bit of a bark into my voice at the end and Lauren was moving closer before she caught on to what she was doing. By the time she stopped she was in reach and I’d reached out and caught her arm. I could tell she was trying to think of an acceptable alternative but she’d run out of time.
Reluctantly she came across my knee, rudely muttering that a sandwich cost five dollars and why was I whining about five fucking dollars.
“It’s not the money. It’s the principle,” I pointed out. “Comfortable?”
“No,” she snapped.
“Good,” I replied, hand coming down hard on her bottom.
She yowled like a cat that had its tail caught in a wringer. I don’t think she believed I’d spank her until that first spank landed. She gave another yowl when the next spank landed, then started to protest.
“Stop it,” she howled at me. “You can’t do this. What if one of the others gets home?”
“I’ll invite them to join in,” I said cheerfully, delivering another firm spank.
Even though she was protesting, Lauren wasn’t struggling. Her legs were flailing up and down, but not too energetically. What was interesting was that they were parting, letting me see her pussy, effectively presenting herself as a distraction.
Now I had said that I wasn’t going to make her have sex but there was nothing that said I couldn’t drop the occasional slap on her pussy, seeing that she exposed it so thoughtfully, offering it up as a target. After a few more spanks I slapped my hand down quite firmly, cupping her mound neatly. As far as I could tell the sounds of her squeals and protests didn’t change one iota. Something else did, though.
Her labia started to flush and seemed to be swelling and parting. After a couple more spanks had landed on her mound during the course of the spanking it was plain to see that her pussy had flowered, her lips swollen and parted, her inner lips puffy and protruding.
I left it at that, not wanting to overdo it. I concentrated on completing the spanking, giving her bottom a nice red glow, trying to ignore the fact that her lips were not only parted but almost dribbling with wetness.
Finally satisfied with my results I abruptly swung Lauren back onto her feet. She just stood there, looking kartal escort shocked. She also looked very aroused. Her nipples were prominent, her lips were parted and she was breathing harder than could be justified by a simple spanking.
I took my smart phone out of my pocket, brought up the videos and, turning the phone so that Lauren could see it, deleted the video.
“This matter is now closed. You will refrain from pinching things in future and we’ll all get along splendidly. OK?”
Lauren blinked and nodded.
“So you’re agreed that the matter is now closed?”
Lauren nodded again.
“Alright. Moving on to the next topic. I want you to march down that hallway and go to my room. Once there you will get on my bed and wait for me to come.”
“Wh-what? Why would I do that?”
“Are you arguing? I don’t believe I said arguments would be considered. Seeing you choose to defy even a simple little command like go to my room I guess I’ll have to change it slightly. Turn around and bend over the end of the couch.”
I stood up as I spoke, frowning.
“Sorry, sorry,” gasped Lauren. “I didn’t mean to argue.”
She hastily moved over and leaned over the couch.
My, my. Lauren was a submissive who got excited from a little spanking. Who’d have guessed it?
I unzipped, bringing my erection out into the light. Lauren, I noticed, was watching me, breathing even harder.
“You know what I’m going to do?” I asked, receiving a hesitant nod in return.
“Are you going to object?”
“No,” came the soft reply.
“No, sir,” I said, pushing it.
“No, sir,” came the hurried correction.
I didn’t worry about foreplay, just moving up behind her and driving in hard and fast, being met with a groan of relief. When I imply there was no foreplay, that’s not quite right. The whole spanking had served as foreplay, even though I hadn’t realised it at first. Even the abrupt nudity had contributed, putting me in the dominant position. As it was, Lauren was well and truly ready for my attentions.
Even as I was pushing in with that initial thrust she was pushing back against me, doing her best to take me as deep as possible. I started pounding into her, hard and fast, almost brutal in my possession of her, any worries about being too rough alleviated by the enthusiastic way in which she responded.
I’d never had a sexual experience quite like this. Normally I’d start slowly, coaxing my lover along, both of us slowly building until we got down to some hot and heavy action. With Lauren, we started hot and heavy and went on from there.
Damn, but it was a very physical encounter. They say sex can burn up some calories but a workout such as I was getting with Lauren was burning up a lot more than some. I hammered into her, enjoying the feel of her, enjoying her response to my taking of her, enjoying the gasps and cries of appreciation (and lust) that she was giving.
My hands had automatically taken hold of her breasts, and I was also enjoying the feel of them, massaging them, rubbing and squeezing.
The whole thing was too frenetic to last for long. I was banging in with a will and my balls were almost bursting, begging for relief. Fortunately, as far as I could tell, Lauren was in the same condition, already hovering on the verge of a climax and needing that last little push to get her over the edge.
I gave her that push. Rather, I delivered a hearty spank to her bottom just as I came, and she shrieked and climaxed. I’m just not sure if it was me climaxing that did it or the slap on the bottom. A bit of both, I suspect.
I was sitting back on the lounge, nice and relaxed, when Lauren finally got herself together. She took one look at me and groaned.
“Oh, god. I can’t believe I let you do that,” she muttered.
I just smiled. What could I say? Lauren got to her feet and turned to leave.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.
“To get dressed,” she snapped at me. “You do realize that I’m still naked, don’t you?”
“Don’t take that tone of voice with me,” I snapped right back, “or you could find yourself back across my knee. Or is that what you want?”
She blushed and looked at the floor.
“Sorry. May I go and get dressed now?”
“Unfortunately, I suppose you’d better. The others may be home soon.”
I walked with her down to her room and she made no protest when I entered her room. I indicated her en suite.
“I think a nice warm shower wouldn’t hurt,” I said softly. “Come along and I’ll wash your back for you.”
I strolled into the little en suite and Lauren followed meekly behind. I stripped while she turned on the shower, and she was blushing as I stepped under the water with her.
I started massaging her breasts lightly. Her hands dropped and she was massaging an erection that had returned, long and hard. I don’t know how long she’d stay submissive, but damn, I was going to enjoy it while she did.
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