When I decided to list my vacation home for sale, June did a great job of selling herself as a professional realtor who would sell my home quickly and for a top price. It didn't hurt that she was gorgeous, so when I hesitated to list my home with her, she offered herself to me. I took her up on the offer, of course, fucked her, and then hired her. That was almost two months ago, and I've had no offers on the home, so I decided to check on what she was doing to market my vacation house.
I found out she had done nothing more than put the house in the listing database that other realtors see. She'd had no open houses and put no advertising in the newspaper or the real estate magazines. Essentially, she'd done almost nothing. I called her and insisted that she have an open house that weekend. She resisted, but when I threatened to cancel our contract, she agreed.
+ + +
Unknown to her, I planned to come to the open house and see her selling it in person. When I got there, I saw no signs for an open house at the entrance to the resort area. I didn't even see a sign for the open house in the front yard. But I did see her expensive sports car in the drive.
I stormed into the house to confront her for her lack of effort in selling my vacation home. And there she was, sitting on a chair, listening to music on my stereo, dressed to the nines, with her legs crossed to reveal a good amount of thigh, and a sexy look of arrogance with a seductive 'Have you got an hour to spare, mister?' look on her face.
"Oh! Mister Jones, I wasn't expecting you," she cooed from her throne.
"Okay, June. What gives? You haven't advertised my place, and this is the first open house... and that's only because I insisted. You didn't even advertise it! There have been no flyers, no flags, no signs. The only way anyone would even know it's for sale is the small paper 'For Sale' sign in the window. Just what have you been doing to sell this house?"
"Well, it's been a busy time, Mr. Jones, but I always have time for you," she told me in a calm voice.
"I'm sure you do, but you need to sell this place. I expected advertising, open houses, flyers... all of it, and you've done nothing."
"I'll work harder, Mr. Jones. I promise. But for now, won't you let me relax you a bit? How about a drink?"
"I don't want a drink. I want you to sell this house!" I nearly hollered at her.
"I can see you're tense, Mr. Jones. Maybe you'd let me give you a massage or a blow job?"
"A blow job. Are you crazy? You're supposed to be a realtor, not a hooker!"
"But I can be both for you, Mr. Jones," she countered, again with the calmest voice.
"Really! Then I'll tell you what you can do. You can get that dress off and let me take you over my knee!"
"Whatever you want, Mr. Jones," she said with a velvety tone. "And if you like, I have a couple of items you might want to use on me sitting by the dining table. I brought them in case I had any gentlemen buyers come by today."
I locked the front door to prevent any house hunter interruptions, not that anyone would even know it was for sale. Then June got up from her chair and undid her dress, sliding it off her shapely body, being nice and slow for my benefit. I watched her, and my anger with her lack of effort on my home turned to a combination of arousal at seeing her in panties, bra, and stockings, and more anger at how she was trying to trick me with sex again.
"Let's lose the bra, panties, and heels, too!" I ordered.
"Yes, sir," she replied, and she undid her bra and took it off, followed by slipping her shoes off and sliding her panties down and kicking them away.
I looked at the items she left in the dining room: a vibrator, a spreader bar, handcuffs, plus a small flogger. I brought them with me when I pulled a straight, armless chair from the dining table, along with a long-handled wooden spoon and a towel from the kitchen. I lashed the spreader bar to her ankles and left the other things under the chair, then placed the towel on my lap as I sat down. She waddled over (due to the spreader bar) and laid across my lap with her rear high in the air.
After June had wiggled a bit to get comfortable, I put my hand on her rear and caressed her smooth skin. She was certainly an attractive woman, and she knew just how to wrap men around her finger and get them to do whatever she wanted... just as she had done with me to get my home listing. But I was wise to her ways now and about to get even.
I grasped the spoon by the handle and gave her a hard smack on one cheek, then the other. She flinched and let out an 'Ouch!' as the impact registered with her. I smacked her again on each cheek, just as hard, and she yelped again. Spanking her with the bowl end of the spoon meant the strikes were rather like a rounded paddle, prone to hurt and redden rather than leave a welt. I continued for several minutes, hitting her hard to make my point that I was not happy with her effort as my realtor. She was squirming in pain after a while, with many a sigh of 'Ouch!' as her ass was getting red, and my strikes were as hard as ever.
"Enough of that. Now I'll give some needed attention to your cunt, you lazy con artist. Are you ready?" I asked, adding a little insult for her lack of a work ethic.
"Yes, sir," she answered.
June's legs were wide open due to the spreader bar, exposing her cunt for my exploration. I reached between her legs and found her slit, already quite wet from the spoon spanking, which must have aroused her despite the pain. Running my fingers down her slit, I found and caressed her clit and swirled her most sensitive nub to further arouse her before inserting my thumb into her vagina, while keeping my fingers on her clit. I thumb-fucked her as she squirmed in delight at the pleasure she was feeling from my fingers on her clit, rubbing it with each in-and-out thumb stroke. I meant to arouse her and get her ready for my final payback for her way of using sex to distract and con men like me. I continued to thumb-fuck her and rub her clit, and drove her to the edge of an orgasm before I stopped, making sure she was nicely engorged and ready for the next part of my wrath.
"Oh, don't stop, Mr. Jones. It feels so good, and I'm so close," she begged.
"Ah, but I'm just getting started, my dear! Now I'm going to cane your clit with the spoon handle " I announced.
"Am I supposed to be afraid of that? Because I'm not," she countered.
"We'll just see about that because I'm sure it's going to hurt!" I told her.
"Really... well do your worst, Mr. Jones!" June dared me.
So, I held the spoon on the bowl end and ran the wooden handle up and down her slit, rubbing against her tender pinkness and over her swollen clit. She squirmed again at the incursion on her most delicate and now super-sensitive nub. She moaned at the arousal it caused, letting out an 'Ah' of restrained delight at the feel of the hard wooden handle against her soft and vulnerable clit. I pulled the spoon handle away momentarily, then began to tap on her clit with it. June jerked at the sudden discomfort before the inevitable pleasure that the taps caused.
Using the long spoon handle as a mini cane, I began to smack her clit with it, softly at first, then harder. She sighed in pain when she realized how much it hurt.
"On my God, that hurts! Well done, Mr. Jones! You've made your point, so you can stop now," she said.
"Are you afraid of more, Miss Lazy?" I countered. "You have it coming for your lack of effort to sell my house!"
"No, I just wanted to save you the effort because you won't break me!" she stated emphatically.
Given her resolve to stand up to me, I continued to strike her clit with the spoon handle, and she started to squirm and scream. Over and over, I hit her clit hard enough to make it hurt a lot, and even more since it was already swollen from my earlier clit play. She continued to squirm on my lap and tried to close her legs, but it was no use with the spreader bar holding them wide apart. The pain at her clit obviously hurt, but as it is with June, the pain also meant some measure of pleasure somehow seeped in between strikes, and she was getting turned on.
I continued to 'cane' her clit with the long wooden handle, and she continued to squirm to get try to get away from it, screaming at her futility. But being June, she was also too proud to just yield and let me win, so she renewed her air of determination to withstand it. She became stoic and stopped being vocal, but simply absorbed each strike with a jerk and squirm, determined to show me I couldn't break her. She would let her anger at my attempts fuel her tenacity to withstand it. Tears ran from her eyes as she took the painful hits to her clit, but she refused to scream again. After minutes of painful strikes to her engorged clit, I yielded. She withstood my worst, and I saw that she would not allow me any more satisfaction. My anger had been replaced with some sympathy for this beautiful woman whom I had been trying, but unable, to break.
I withdrew the 'caning' spoon and caressed her rear while slipping a finger back to her slit. Massaging her tender folds, I traced my fingers lightly up and down her, and the pleasure that had been sparked during the caning returned. She reacted with a moan of delight at my soft touch and whimpered quietly as her tears subsided. Meanwhile, I wondered how a woman could be so strong of will to withstand such pain and yet not do her day job. Seeing her ruthless determination when she applied herself, I decided to give her another chance. While I caressed her cheeks, I spoke.
"You've withstood my worst, June, and your stoic stance speaks volumes about what you can do when you apply yourself. Won't you apply that same determination to selling my house?"
"I will, Mr. Jones. I promise," she replied with a sense of thankfulness that her torment was over.
Using my fingers, I moved my caresses to her clit and softly swirled around her nub. She jerked at my touch on her still sensitive clit, then relaxed as I continued to rekindle the flame of desire that had started with the caning. Soon, desire outweighed her soreness, and she began to squirm in delight. Before long, she was gasping, her clit now alive with a slow growing but intense need for release.
"Oh, make me cum, Mr. Jones. Please!"
"As you wish, my dear."
My fingers constituted instruments of pleasure, giving her the impetus to climax as I continued to swirl and stimulate her clit. She moaned and wiggled on my lap, her libido overtaking her, and she jerked and spasmed with her first orgasmic shock. Soon, she was out of control, all vestiges of pain replaced with pleasure as she came repeatedly, gushing with her juices and all of her energy being released. When she jerked with her last spasm and squirted the last of her juices onto the towel, she fell lifeless on my lap, spent.
I massaged her rear gently, soothingly, while she recovered. When she regained her alertness, I helped her stand and removed the spreader bar from her ankles.
"Will you let me thank you now, Mr. Jones?" she asked, as she stood before me.
"As you like, my dear," I replied.
June undid my slacks and let them fall to my ankles, then pulled my briefs down. She got on her knees in front of me, took my penis in her hands and caressed it, causing it to engorge as she did, swelling toward a fine erection. Then she put her mouth on it, surrounding my cock with her soft lips, swiping at the tip with her tongue, and beginning to suck on my rigid member. She took me into her, then released me to withdraw a bit before drawing me back in, taking me deeper each time. The feeling was heaven for me as she put all her skill into driving me wild with desire. I soon reached my climax, and the uncontrollable urge came as it always does when a man cannot stop what has started. I groaned and spasmed, shooting a rope of semen into her waiting mouth. Over and over, I squirted into her, and she accepted my load. When I shot my last remnant of spunk and was sated, she swallowed it all and then licked me clean.
"Thank you, June. That was wonderful, as are you when you want to be."
"It was good for me, too. The spoon handle hurt, but it also got my arousal started, and you gave me my release when I needed."
"Glad to help. And on selling my house, do we have an understanding that you will work harder to sell it?"
"Yes, sir, we do. I'll get it sold for you, I promise."
I dressed and left, feeling that maybe June would do as she promised and work harder to sell my house. But I knew June pretty well and suspected her carnal desires would always trump work. Still, there was hope.
+ + +
You can imagine my surprise and happiness when a week later June called to say she had a great offer to present to me. She had kept her word and did what it took to sell the home!
She came over to my place that evening to go over the offer details and sign the papers, and I was pleased to hear her ask, "So, maybe we could celebrate the sale, Mr. Jones? I know just how!"
