A Study in Fragrance Pt. 03

"And, yet, I still don't have those." She got up, taking both glasses with her. "You good?" She hoped her heart would stop hammering before she fainted. What the fuckkkkk???? But her body was lit up.

You have no idea how good I am. "Mother-fucker," he muttered as he got up. "Okay. I think we can work out something."

"Phew," she exhaled in mock relief. "I don't know what I would have done. I've got holes I need filled."

Nasty. So young. So innocent. Kitten licking her paws. He just shook his head.

"So, you've suggested nine days of labor, let's round it up to 10 to be safe, I'll need to pay or play for. Right?" She waited for him to nod. "What constitutes a 'day?'"

Step 4. Terms and conditions. Here we go. He let her see he saw she was serious. "3:30 -- 7:30 is ½ a day. So, I work here until 3:30 for Mac. Our day starts at 3:30. I don't like to work past 7:30, too much danger of getting hurt. If Mac's job is going smoothly I don't work on the weekends. Happy to work here," he wiped his forehead. "10 hour days Sat/Sun, if we work every afternoon and two weekends we should get the thing done in two weeks, tops."

Fuck. Two weeks. I wonder what condition I'll be in when he's finished. Her body and well-being came first. She felt the black hole of worry, pen-tip size, but sure to grow if she fed it, beginning in her gut. "Two weeks. I'm here to help, work, do your dirty work...for two weeks. In return, you'll give me tips," she paused dramatically until he smiled, "and you'll not charge me for your labor unless I fail to satisfy. Do we have a deal?"

Five days tops of actual construction work, she's expecting 14 calendar days. A complete novice who's going to fuck things up, so 14 is probably right. She wants to use me to get experience, and is offering her virgin body for me to play with. He just shook his head, looking around the kitchen. His boss's client's daughter; she doesn't have a fucking clue what she's in for with me, and she'll be terrible at sex...except that hand job wasn't so bad. This is your chance dude. Ts and Cs.

"Almost. Do you have any idea what you're signing up for? You've seen how big I am. I'm going to give that to you in as many ways as I can. You understand?" Hit her with the hot, hard reality. Where will she draw the line?

She closed her eyes, imagining what he was saying. In your mouth, Em. Your ass. He's going to fuck you with that thing in your ass. Are you really ready to do that? And your vagina. Of course your vagina. What else might he be thinking? What else was there? She swallowed. "I figured," she said, her voice a little quieter than she'd have liked. "But you can't hurt me," she quickly recovered. "This is supposed to be fun. For both of us. If I'm in pain, that's not going to be fun."

Okay. She's going to let me have the full run of her body, as long as I'm respectful. Let's poke at the pain thing. He nodded. "That's fair. I like to have fun. I want you to have fun." He smiled like a shy doofus. "But you're an athlete, right?" He waited for her to nod. "Don't you believe in 'no pain, no gain?'" Bait. Wait.

She closed her eyes again and felt her stomach clench. Oh fuck. What does that mean??? "I don't know..." She could feel the tendril brightening, squeezing.

"Think of me as your coach," he began.

Her eyes shot open and she looked at him. "But you're not..."

He shook his head. "Right. Sorry. Wrong word. Think of me as you're trainer." He watched her eyes grow wide and her mouth open a little. Right the spot on. Bingo. "I'm agreeing to give you tips on construction and sex, you said it yourself. Sometimes it's going to hurt, a little. We're going to figure out how to get you through those tough spots."

Oh shit oh shit. What's he saying? "Like what, exactly?" She was barely able to squeeze out the words.

"Well, in a little while you're going to do some heavy lifting with me. That's the construction side. On the sex side, hmmm...you willing to try something...right now...to give you an idea?" He wanted to do nothing less than grab her and ravage her, but even this was pushing it. Let's see where curiosity brings the kitten.

"Fuckkk, Cos...you're fucking with me." But what she couldn't tell him was how much she wanted to know what he was talking about. Her body was lit up and she didn't know why. Trainer. He was offering to be her sex trainer. FUCK!!! "I..."

"It's about trust, Emily. You don't know where we're going, I don't know you, but you have a lawyer daddy who could fuck me up. We need to come to an agreement on both sides here: construction and getting you experience. Let's try to build some trust. K?"

She nodded, unsure what he had in mind.

"Say a word you want me to know means 'Stop!'"

She froze. "A safe word, you mean." oh no ohnohnohno. I can't go there...But her body was saying something else. Naughty. Wicked. Virgin sacrifice. No pain no gain. "Pomegranate," she said softly.

"Pomegranate. K...Whenever you aren't happy with what's going on, you say that word and I promise to stop." He watched her looking at him, worried, eyes wide, trying to find an out. "Say it five times and the entire deal is off. You pay me for the work and we're both off the hook for the sex. Got it?"

"Okayyyyy," long exhale, her heart jumping around. Who the fuck is he really? The thought that he was playing her shot into her head. She stared at him, seeing a sweet hairy muscular guy who was willing to give her experience. "What happens now?"

Nice. Let's do a trial run. "You looked scared, Emily. I don't want you to be scared. This is supposed to be fun. It's going to be fun. Let's just try one thing. So you aren't worried so much." He unsnapped his jeans and peeled them down, along with his boxers, exposing his cock, thick and lying on his thigh. He motioned for her to stand up. "Come over here," he pulled his chair away from the table so she could see him, "and lie down over my dick."

She saw what he was getting at and shook her head. "You...you want...to spank me?" She didn't know whether to laugh or run. The idea made her cringe. She hadn't been spanked since she was three years old. She knew people did that shit; she'd seen pictures and pieces of videos, but they weren't interesting to her. "I...that...," she stayed still, watching him, seeing his cock thicken a little. "Is that what you want to do to me?"

He stayed calm. "It's not that I want to do that to you, it's that you think it might be painful. But there's pain and there's pain, I want you to know you have the power to make it stop when it's not 'fun' pain." Fun. It's going to be fun.

She shook her head, the mood had gotten more serious than she had expected. His cock was thickening. He was getting off on this! FUCK! But she could feel her own arousal ticking up at the thought that simply talking about it was turning him on. "You sure...?" She looked at his face, searching for anything that didn't seem pure.

"That's what I'm talking about, Emily." He lightly patted the top of his thighs. "You and I need to trust each other. I promise to stop when it's too much for you. Spanking isn't only about pain. You can look it up." Keep it moving. Keep her off balance. His hand patted again.

"You...," she stepped next to him and gave in. "I'm going to so crush you if you aren't serious." What the fuck are you doing???? She felt silly, and childish, as she bent over his legs, her breasts brushing his thigh, the hairs tickling a little, her knees not quite reaching the floor. She could feel his cock, thick and hard against her abs, her channel so wet, the tendril tightening its hold; her embarrassment from offering herself to be spanked blossoming.

"Ten on each cheek, and maybe a surprise, just to keep you on your toes...so to speak. You can cry out, shout, curse, beg me to stop, but unless you say 'Pomegranate,' I'm going to keep going. Okay, Emily?" He was rubbing her cheeks, they were warm and tight, the skin smooth and unblemished. "Spread your legs a little so I can see your pussy."

God I hate that word. But she did as he instructed, holding her breath, her heart racing at how stupid she was being. She could feel his heartbeat in his penis, pulsing against her navel. It was thickening. She shook her head.

"FUCK!!!"

The slap wasn't painful as much as surprising. She jerked up, his hand gently pushing against her traps to keep her breasts pushed down against his thigh. And as the shock coronaed out from her butt cheek, he slapped her again on the other one. It felt much less intense this time.

His hand came down again on her left cheek, and her nerves lit up, but it didn't hurt for more than a second, and then her right.

Five slaps in and she could feel how warm her buns were getting. It didn't hurt at all at this point, more a warmth that grew through her center and up her stomach. And embarrassing. She saw herself draped across him, being spanked! She focused on his cock, hard now and pushing up against her ribs.

"I'm going to up it a little, Emily." And then a slap that felt like the first one, making her cry out. And another. And back again, and a fourth. She could feel these again, her ass cheeks were hot now, and she could feel herself dripping onto his leg.

"Jesus, Cos," she breathed out, the image of being stretched across his legs returning. The humiliation was worse than the sensation. "OUCH! FUCK! HOLY SHIT! STOPPPP!" He had spanked her hard on each cheek, her skin was on fire, and she needed him to stop. But he had already stopped. Was that 10? She'd lost count. Her head was spinning, her heart beating, and she was so wet, so much wetter than she'd been.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" He gently rubbed her cheeks, letting his thumb drift down to feel between her legs. He was so hard, but he could delay that. The moisture on his thigh was all he needed to know.

"Is it over?" She was gasping. "Was that it?" She just wanted to get up, she needed to get relief from the shame and the fact she was dripping on his leg.

"Two more, Emily..."

She moaned and protested, but she could take two more. Yes it was painful, but it was blossoming into a pleasure she hadn't expected. Between her legs. She curled her pelvis down a little, to defend her buns but also to rub her clit against his thigh. What...the..fuck? The whole thing was humiliating.

TWHACK! "FUCKKK! OW OW OW" and then she felt the rush of air and a pain she hadn't expected as his fingers slapped between her thighs against her lips, the momentum sending vibrations against her clit. And then a second one, not as intense as the first, her lips slightly numb. She cried out again, lifting up, squeezing her legs together, trapping his fingers against her opening. She stiffened and crooned, and, when he started to slip his fingers into her, she gasped, relaxing her legs, opening herself to him, begging him with her body to finger her. Two fingers separated her, his thumb pushed against her bottom hole and she inhaled feeling the tendril almost exploding with an inrush of shame and humiliation...and so much pleasure, his cock hard now, hot and silky. And then she felt her climax building, starting in her kidneys, her cheeks glowing, her insides like a star about to super-nova and he brushed a finger across her clit and she let go, liquid spilling out of her, her body tensing from shoulders to thighs, her buns squeezing against his thumb, the vibrations echoing up and down her spine. "FUCKKKKKK!" she cried out, dropping across his legs, her eyes closing, her mind a swirl, confused, waves moving through her. She thought she might black out, and remembered to breathe.

It was moments later, it was hours. She felt him lightly massaging her cheeks with one hand, her shoulders with another. He was saying something.

"Like that, Emily. Did that 'hurt' or was that 'fun?'"

She needed to get up, she wanted to just lie there. She was ashamed and embarrassed at what she'd let him do. She wanted him to make her cum like that again. Holy fuck. Holy holy fuck. She gently unfolded off of him, dropping back onto her knees, his cock poking up in front of her. She pushed away and sat back on her heels, staring at his penis, half-standing, pointing toward her. She could smell herself and saw where she'd made his legs wet. Her face burned from shame.

"You should get some aloe and vitamin E cream," he suggested. "That was medium, by the way. You won't see any bruising, but it will be very red tonight, and a little tender tomorrow or maybe tonight. You could get some Solarcaine lotion or spray if it's too uncomfortable." He watched her take it all in, imagining the feelings running through her. Her breathing was still faster than normal, she squirmed. "And if you're really uncomfortable, a couple of Advil or whatever you take for muscle pain." If that didn't scare her off, we're in.

She couldn't look him in the eye, the whole thing had been completely unexpected and outrageous. She had just been about to scream Pomegranate when it was over, and then she came. So fucking strong. He's so fucking strong. The humiliation and embarrassment was coming back, replacing the afterglow of her orgasm. I just came for a guy!!! But she struggled with the image of what he'd made her do. Does that turn me on?

"Both," she said, finally hearing what he'd asked her. "It hurt...but it was...fuck..." She looked up at him. "Do you do that a lot to the girls you date? Beat them?" She was irritated. Annoyed. Pissed. She wasn't sure why, since it felt so good. Still. She got up and moved to the chair, worried her buns would be tender. Pissed at how he'd humiliated her. How she'd let herself be humiliated. Even the warmth on her bottom against the chair felt good. But he'd manipulated her. It didn't feel right.

"Sorry," she said, asking forgiveness with her eyes, "I'm mad, but not at you. I...fuckkkk." She didn't know what she was mad at. Being made a fool. Humiliated. Treated like a three year old. The emotions welled up, the echoes of her orgasm still cascading through her. It was confusing.

"I understand," he said quietly. "Spanking can bring a lot of emotions out. It's a powerful tool. For training. You were amazing," he complemented her. "I don't do that with many women, no. But I thought you could take it...could enjoy it even. It felt like you enjoyed it..." He wiped his thigh and fingers, smiling at her sheepishly.

"Fuck you," she whispered, smiling. "You fucking asshole. Fuck." Her mind was all over the place, but mostly she felt the afterglow of an intense orgasm. Maybe the biggest she'd ever felt.

"So," she looked up after taking a long swallow of iced tea. "I hope you don't expect me to do that...a lot." She stared at the table, relaxed and tense in different places. It was actually starting to feel good. The spanking. She pressed her legs together. She shook her head.

"You want to be trained, right? I am ready to train you in basic construction, and maybe advanced sex. It depends on where you want to go. Remember, you have the control." He pulled up his briefs and jeans, but kept his shirt off.

She nodded, not looking him in the face, staring at his tats, trying to regain some amount of self-control. She didn't feel in control at all. Her heart rate was near normal, her breathing still a little whacky. Her buns hurt, sort of, like a sunburn or after a bumpy bike ride. Or both. "Okay," she felt herself returning to some kind of normal. "It just occurred to me: when you're...we're having fun, that's on the clock, right?"

Hah! God she's amazing. He looked at her like she was crazy. "How can that work? When I estimated the time, that assumed we'd both be working, not fucking around. No. The fun and games is separate."

"Okay, just so I understand." This part was getting her revved up. "If you suddenly ask me to get on my knees and give you a blow job," she tried to imagine how she could possibly do that, but didn't miss a beat, "the work clock stops?"

"Fuck, Emily! Yes. If we stop to give you a lesson in how to properly service a man, that's on your dime, not mine."

She scrunched her lips and nodded, the heat from her ass cheeks a constant reminder of what he'd just done, what he might mean. "Okay then. Let's seal that deal properly." She headed for the door. "Bring your phone."

It took them several takes. She'd grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat off her. If it was going to be on tape she wanted it to at least look good. She wore her boots. It added just the right touch and kept her feet from burning on the cobblestones. It was hot outside. So much for it being cooler today.

She was standing at the back hall entrance, he held his phone at first, but then they had to figure out a makeshift tripod; he was shaking too much. Naked, her house clearly in the background.

"I, Emily Anne Wafton Bronson, on June 6, 2018, of legal age in Essex County, Massachusetts, am recording this contract for Joseph Coswell Burnett, aka Cos, a professional carpenter in good legal standing. Cos will complete a variety of improvements to the second floor of the house in which I reside, 34 Spruce St., as detailed in sketches and conversations documented and signed separately. As of this recording, Cos estimates 80 hours of labor over the course of two weeks, assuming no changes, and no hidden conditions, with approximately four hours per day, weekends at 10 hours per day. I agree to reimburse Cos for all materials, assuming proper receipts are provided. In exchange for the cost of Cos's labor, I agree to allow Cos the use of my body, details to be negotiated separately, but based on mutual respect and consent, for the length of time necessary to complete aforementioned improvements but not to exceed two weeks unless agreed to by mutual consent."

He looked at her from the shadow of the garage and shook his head. Who the fuck are you? This is impressive. You have my attention.

It was all she could do to keep her face straight and not fidget, the pain from her spanking still swirling with the orgasm. She was staring at the camera, trying to ignore him pacing off to the side.

"Thanks for helping me out, Cos. I hope I don't disappoint." She stood still to give some margin and then walked to the phone to stop the recording.

"Come take a look and make sure it's what you heard." She watched over his arm as he brought up the video and listened to the contract. She looked cute: her pubic hair high contrast to her light skin, her hair pulled back, with the exception of one strand that kept catching in the wind. Her breasts poking straight out, her nipples dark against the lighter areole.

"I hope you know what you got yourself into," he looked at her with a mixture of distrust and admiration. "Or what I got myself into..."

"Not yet. You're not into me yet. But anyway, too late. It's done. Put me to work."

It was 5:30. They'd spent two hours "negotiating" and sealing the deal, but it felt like two days. Emily went back inside and pulled on her clothes, feeling her cotton briefs rubbing against the hot skin. "I assume it's 'safety first,' yeah?"

"Okay," he called to her in the kitchen. Either he hadn't heard her or didn't think it needed a response. "I need help carrying the table saw upstairs, and then some help with the wood."

They debated going up the back stairs; it was closer and less risky if something dropped, but it would have been difficult making the turns. The table saw was heavy, not so heavy she couldn't help, but it demanded different muscles from her usual. She could feel her traps compensating. And it was small, so they had to stand close together, his musk filling her nose, her eyes distracted by all that hair. She was sopping wet by the time they'd dragged everything up. 6:30. "All right," she stepped out into the hall to give him room. "What's up next?" She stared at his zipper. He'd been hard when he shoved his cock back in his underwear, before she recorded the contract. She assumed he was still turned on by what he'd done to her.