A Project for Bethany

Matthew looked around the room. It was eight feet by ten feet in size, he estimated.

“Prisoners get more space, don’t they?” he thought.

But beggars can’t be choosers. With the reduction in operations at the factory where he’d been working, he got laid off as the new guy. Two years on the job and he was still the new guy. The job had paid well and he’d banked some savings, but it looked like the pandemic was going to delay any re-hiring for some time. Matthew had moved quickly to mitigate the inevitable cascade effect of the drop in income. He’d packed up his small apartment, arranged for his things to be shipped home for storage in his mother’s garage, and was now looking at a spare bedroom in the apartment of his sister’s friend.

“So, what do you think Matty,” Bethany said as she came down the hall past her own bedroom.

Matthew winced. No-one called him Matty. Well, one person did. That was his younger sister Janie, who’d learned early that he didn’t like it and had always used it to aggravate her big brother. Matthew took one more look before replying. The single bed against one wall, the desk across from it, and one well-used desk chair earned the label “furnished” for the room. With no closet, a flat-pack wardrobe stood in one corner beside the desk to offer the only storage. A modest window overlooked the park across the street and many floors below.

“Uh, it looks great Beth,” Matthew said as he turned toward her, “I’m so glad you let Janie know this was available and you would let me stay here. Hopefully, it won’t be too long before I get something going, and my savings will cover me for a while.”

Bethany was wearing the well-worn oversized t-shirt and black yoga pants she had on when she opened the apartment door. Like his sister, Bethany was two years younger than Matthew’s 24 years. Despite the masking effect of the loose shirt, Matthew couldn’t help but notice Bethany’s curves. At five feet eight inches, she was only a couple of inches shorter than Matthew. Where he had maintained the lithe build that had carried him through high school cross country running, her fit cheerleader’s body had filled out in so many delicious curvy ways. Matthew still ran occasionally, but without discipline. On Bethany, the effects of regular gym workouts were evident in every movement.

“She’s certainly no longer the skinny kid that hung out with my little sister,” Matthew thought as he followed Bethany back down the hall past the closed door to her own bedroom.

The length of the hallway tugged at Matthew’s curiosity. The small bedroom he was about to move into was barely large enough to call the apartment unit two-bedroom. With a small but fully appointed bathroom tucked in beside the second bedroom, after the living area, most of the apartment’s floor space was dedicated to what must be a very spacious master suite. With the upscale nature of the building and its marketing, as well as Matthew could recall, aimed at professional singles and young couples, he wasn’t surprised that the units were built around the idea of a large principal bedroom.

“I do have a few rules,” Bethany said as she stepped into the living room and turned to face Matthew.

Matthew, distracted by the sensuous rolling of Bethany’s hips after setting aside the idea of the apartment’s floorplan, almost ran into her. He dodged to one side, barely managing to avoid an embarrassing collision before he stopped. Matthew glanced around the living area, the furniture was tastefully arranged and left enough room near the windows for a stationary bike, some free weights, and a basic freestanding home gym. A long granite-topped counter separated the living room from a narrow galley kitchen.

Noticing Bethany’s expectant gaze, Matthew stammered, “Yeah, Janie said you’d be particular about some things.”

“No. 1,” Bethany began, “I never want to see a dirty dish, when you’re done in the kitchen, dishes are washed, dried, put away, and the counters are cleaned. No. 2, you’re welcome to use the living room, but it stays as clean after use as the kitchen. The bike is off-limits, I have it set for me and like it to stay that way. No. 3, you use the full bath along the hallway, but keep your things tucked away. I have the en-suite off my bedroom for myself. No. 4, stay out of my room. And No. 5, when I have a guest over, I expect you to be out of sight so I don’t have to explain that I’m not living alone.”

“So, to recap,” Matthew quipped as he indicated each area in turn, “it’s clean, clean, clean, keep out, and stay hidden. I can do that.”

Bethany’s tight smile might have indicated that she wasn’t certain Matthew was taking her seriously if he had noticed.

“Good. Some of that may seem like small things, but they will be deal-breakers.”

“No worries Beth,” Matthew said, “I need this and appreciate it, especially at the deal you’re offering me for rent. I will follow the rules.”

“I prefer Bethany,” she said as she turned toward her room, “I’ll let you bring your things in while I take care of a few things.”

Two nights later, Matthew was just finished showering after a slow workout on the fitness machine. His phone buzzed with a warning from Bethany that she was bringing someone home. The message didn’t need to detail what that meant for him, and he made a final check of the kitchen and living room, wiped off the weight machine one last time, and had settled into his room well before he heard the apartment door open.

Matthew had planned an early bedtime, which meant by midnight in his books. He was planning a full day drafting tailored letters of introduction for his resume in the morning and wanted a restful night. As he lay in bed that intention swiftly disappeared. Matthew had heard noises from Bethany’s room as she worked in the preceding days, but the new sounds were unmistakable.

Bethany’s headboard was against the wall beside Matthew’s bed. The rhythmic banging started off slow and low but built quickly into a jack-hammering that could only mean one thing. Of course, Bethany’s orgasmic cries of “Fuck me! Fuck me!” might have been another clue.

“Two days,” Matthew thought, “I lasted two days without overtly sexualizing my little sister’s friend, and now that’s all I’ll be doing.”

“Come on my tits, and then eat me until you’re ready to fuck me again” Matthew heard Bethany say.

Matthew’s hand wrapped around his own hard cock and matched the pounding of the headboard while he listened to Bethany announce her first orgasm. When the banging stopped he imagined the cock Bethany was enjoying spurting all over her rounded breasts and that’s when he lost his first load that night. Matthew soon recovered and stroked his way through listening to two more rounds of very loud and graphic sex between Bethany and her lover before he faded to sleep.

Waking with a raging hard-on brought the full range of memories and emotions surging back to Matthew as he opened his eyes at the first beeping of his phone’s alarm. After addressing that serious need to cum again, he cleaned up and was in the kitchen making toast and coffee when Bethany rounded the corner of the long counter.

“Morning Matty,” she said with a broad smile, “I hope Rick and I didn’t keep you awake last night.”

Matthew turned toward Bethany, his mouth opening to reply but no sound came out. And his mouth stayed open. Bethany wasn’t wearing her usual attire in the apartment of tasteful but loose sweats or yoga pants and a long t-shirt. In fact, she wasn’t wearing much at all.

Bethany smiled as Matthew’s gaze went from head to toe and back up again. Bethany was wearing boy shorts of sapphire blue lace and a matching push-up bra. On her legs were pearlescent white thigh-high stockings that didn’t need suspenders, so sheer that her shapely legs glimmered in the light from the apartment windows. On her feet were white ballet slippers, which explained her quiet approach.

Raising his gaze back upward to meet Bethany’s amused look, Matthew fought hard to not let his eyes linger on the pair of gorgeous rounded c-cups that almost had nipples exposed to his view over the lacy bra cups. Bethany’s make up was picture perfect for a night out rather than morning coffee at home, and her flowing strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a casual ponytail.

“Uh … morning,” Matthew managed to croak.

Through his shock, Matthew also realized that his own sweatpants had suddenly become taut at the crotch.

“I guess you weren’t expecting to see me dressed for work this early” Bethany said, “I have an early zoom meeting with a client a few time zones away, so I’m working on his schedule.”

“Dressed for work? … client? … huh?” Matthew repeated the words as he tried to process them.

Bethany laughed as she poured a cup of coffee. Relaxed and in control, her laugh was musical to Matthew’s ears but did little to alleviate his confusion.

“So,” Bethany said, “I take it Janie didn’t tell you what I do for a living.”

Matthew shook his head as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

“I entertain clients, either in person or, more frequently these days, over the internet.”

“So, a cam girl?” Matthew offered weakly.

“Oh, nothing so crude, Matty,” Bethany replied with a tinge of disgust, “my work is a little more upscale than that. I have a rather exclusive client list that I built while I was in university. It’s just a new way to provide the contact and experiences that my clients desire until I can travel again without risk to me or them.”

“Rick was a client?” Matthew asked.

“Not like you’re thinking my dear, he’s a good friend. Last night he was also a stunt cock to provide a scene for a paying client. If you’re lucky you may get to listen to us on his next visit when one is arranged. And before you ask, no, you cannot have a link to any of my material.”

“I wasn’t …,” Matthew began.

Bethany stepped close, her small hand wrapped around the head of Matthew’s throbbing erection through his sweat pants. She could feel the wet spot against her palm as she spoke again.

“Bullshit. You laid there listening, and probably stroking this the whole time. Was it good for you Matty? Did you cum when I did?”

Shocked and speechless again, Matthew didn’t even realize he was nodding slightly in response to Bethany’s questions.

“Looking and listening don’t bother me,” Bethany said as she wiped her palm on Matthew’s shirt, “but don’t get any ideas of more.”

Stepping back, Bethany noticed the clock on the stove.

“I have to go,” she said, but turned back with an innocent smile as she held up her coffee cup, “please be a dear Matty, and wash my cup with your own.”

Matthew obediently took the cup from Bethany’s hand. As he watched her go, he silently wondered if she knew how close he was to cumming in his sweats as she held the head of his cock.

Bethany smiled as she walked away and closed the door to her bedroom. Janie had told her that Matthew would be eating out of her palm if she wanted and now she knew that was true.

Without realizing how deeply he had fallen under her influence, Matthew’s schedule began to revolve around Bethany’s. He was up early making coffee each day, hoping to see a repeat of her “work clothes” appearance, and was occasionally rewarded for his efforts, enough to continue and create a routine. Bethany took advantage, demurely offering her coffee cup or other dishes for Matthew to wash for her, accentuating the unspoken request with smoky eyes or a softly bitten lip so Matthew just couldn’t say no. She extended her requests to having Matthew to wipe down the exercise equipment when his own workouts followed hers.

As Bethany noticed Matthew’s changing behavior towards her, she added to the distractions she presented. Her attire around the apartment changed, starting with occasionally letting Matthew see her in her work clothes, and wearing closer-fitting and increasingly minimal work-out clothes in the living room. She watched carefully as Matthew sneaked glances, noticed how his voice wavered more as she wore less, and how his cock grew behind the fabric of his sweat pants when she found him admiring her shapely form.

In return, Matthew quietly tracked Bethany’s schedule, always ready to be in his room if she was having a visitor. He also found that sometimes, at varying times of day and night, she performed solo for one of her clients. Bethany could be just as vocal with her Hitachi wand as she was with her lovers. Every few days, Matthew would get a warning text, giving him a timing, or sometimes just a few minutes’ warning, to be out of sight before Bethany arrived with a guest, or one showed up at the door for her. Each time, Matthew wound up naked in his own bed, listening intently and stroking in time with the sounds coming from Bethany’s room and Bethany’s bed.

Late one night, Matthew was laying in bed. His stomach was still covered in streaks of cum from having masturbated through one of Bethany’s sessions with a visiting stunt cock. He was fighting off the desire to just drift off to sleep, knowing he needed to clean up first, when the knock came at his door. Matthew swung his legs off the bed and rose to a sitting position, pulling a towel across his lap as the door opened to reveal Bethany. She was dressed in a white silk robe decorated with red outlines of large roses, and she did not look pleased.

“Matthew,” Bethany said, “Kitchen. Now.”

And she was gone as quickly as she had appeared.

“Shit,” thought Matthew as he threw on sweat pants and a t-shirt to follow.

Matthew was unsure of what the problem might be right up until he rounded the corner into the galley kitchen. He didn’t even need Bethany’s accusing finger to recall that he’d forgotten to clear all his dishes the previous evening and to wipe the counter down to her exacting standards.

“I’m sorry Betha…,” he started.

Bethany’s upheld hand halted the apology in mid-syllable.

“I think,” Bethany spoke clearly, “that with the rent I ask from you that you have a good thing going here. I have a few rules that you agreed to when you arrived. I promised your sister I would help and that is what I have been doing. All you need to do is what I have asked of you, and that you have demonstrated that you can achieve.”

“I’m sorry,” Matthew blurted, “it won’t happen again.”

“Rules are rules Matthew, non-compliance will have consequences, and the only leverage I have is for you to leave. Do not let this happen again.”

“I won’t,” Matthew replied apologetically.

“I expect to find a clean kitchen in the morning,” Bethany said as she walked back toward her room.

Matthew stood still for a moment, breathing deeply and thankful that he wasn’t already packing his bags. Desiring to make a better impression, he took time to diligently clean every surface in the kitchen, including the insides of the refrigerator and microwave, and making sure the floor was clean too. It was a few hours later that he collapsed back into his own bed, leaving a shower until the morning.

Striving to exceed Bethany’s expectations, Matthew continued to wake early each morning to prepare coffee. He took Bethany’s dishes to wash and tidied up after her in the living room without needing to be asked over batted eyelashes. Each time he moved through the apartment he watched for anything out of place that he could correct. Anything he could do to stay in Bethany’s good books was in his best interest and he found that he wanted to please her.

Matthew still carefully tracked Bethany’s appointment schedule. He took care of his own responsibilities when he knew she was out or engaged in quieter work. Matthew had few hopes that the depressed job market would result in an offer any time soon but felt that staying on top of the job search only helped to prove that he was a worthy roommate. His diligence was one way to show that he was the deserving beneficiary of Bethany’s promise to his sister.

When Mathew knew Bethany had a guest, either from her letting him know a guest was coming or because he received a warning text, he was in his room consumed with anticipation. Naked on his bed, with no sounds but what came through the wall, Matthew stroked and teased himself in concert with what he imagined was happening. Two, three, sometimes even four orgasms over an hours-long session left him drained in every sense of the word. Equally, it left him tense and nervous, wondering if Bethany’s visit would be repeated even when he knew there was no reason for it.

The second incident was worse. Matthew had thought Bethany was to be out all day and had put in a leisurely workout in the living room. He was in a half-doze on the sofa when the door opened suddenly and Bethany strode inside. She was wearing a dark blue leather jacket and mid-thigh length skirt with a white high-collared white blouse. On her feet were four-inch stiletto-heeled pumps, and she moved in them with grace and confidence that was inspiring. Or would have been if she wasn’t so clearly pissed off. She was fuming.

“What are you doing,” she hissed at Matthew.

Matthew knew instantly that he’d fucked up. The place was as untidy as he’d ever let it be when working out, and he’d left his phone in his room where he didn’t hear the chirp of an incoming text.

“My client will be here in five minutes,” Bethany said quietly, but with an edge on her voice that galvanized Matthew.

He lined the weights up as quickly as he could. Then he grabbed his towel and wiped down the fitness machine. Knowing it wasn’t enough, he retreated down the hallway and swung his bedroom door closed just as a knock sounded on the apartment’s entry door.

Angry at himself and distraught that he had let Bethany down, Matthew was at a loss. His brain told him that he might as well start packing. His cock had other plans as the low voices came through the wall to Bethany’s room. Female voices. Matthew groaned silently. As if on autopilot he stripped off his sweats and lay down. His balls seemed to be aching with an instant need to cum and he wrapped his hand around his throbbing cock. Matthew didn’t know who was submitting to who, and it seemed like he didn’t even have an imagined image of the scene in mind before his cock started spurting at the sound of spanking.

Not daring to make extra noise by heading to the bathroom, though it was never a restricted move, Matthew stayed in his room and cleaned up with the wet wipes he now kept on hand. Then he dressed in jeans and a collared shirt, very different from his usual casual sports attire around the apartment. Matthew sensed that he should probably be properly dressed for the upcoming conversation, no matter how it went.

Not long after, the call came from the living room, “Matthew Thomas!”

“Shit,” Matthew thought, “the only person who ever called me that was my mother when she was mad. I didn’t even think Bethany knew my middle name.”

He walked up the hall in slow time, already guilty and unable to make himself rush to sentencing. In the living room, Matthew faced Bethany. Now out of her heels, she was still wearing the skirt and leather jacket, though her blouse was also gone. Matthew was too concerned to be distracted by the white lace of her bra that could be seen between the lapels of her jacket.

“I thought we had this sorted,” Bethany said with a clipped tone.

Her upheld hand stopped Matthew before he could say anything.

“A few rules,” she continued, “in exchange for a small room with a proportionately small share of the rent. I don’t need that rent or the aggravation that comes with a roommate who can’t follow a few rules. I was doing this as a favor to Janie, but you have let us both down. Your sloppiness almost cost me my client, not just today, but for good. That is not acceptable.”

Matthew looked up to meet Bethany’s steady gaze before speaking.

Chastised, he begged, “I’m sorry Bethany, it was stupid of me. Please don’t toss me. I’ll do anything to keep our arrangement. The job hunt is getting nowhere. I need this. I really do.”

“I like you, Matthew. And I like your sister, a lot. I don’t want to disappoint her by having to kick you to the curb, but I will.”

“Please Bethany, anything you want. Please give me one more chance.”

Bethany was silent long enough to make Matthew uncomfortable as he waited for a reply. She walked to the windows and gazed out over the city, then turned back to face the man who was groveling for her. Matthew may have been on his feet, but he was still groveling.

“O.K. Matty,” Bethany’s tone immediately established that this was not a negotiation, “it’s obvious that you can behave when you want to or when you are effectively motivated. But it seems to wear off after a few weeks. We need a way to restore that motivation.”

“Uh … o.k.,” Matthew said, uncertain of where Bethany was going.

“When you were young, how did your mother discipline you.”

It was obvious that Bethany already knew the answer to her question.

“She spanked me, but it was only a few times,” Matthew’s voice was almost a whisper.

“Punitively, or was it the ritual and sense of humiliation for a growing young man that she depended upon for correction?”

“The ritual, she would never have hurt me,” Matthew admitted, avoiding the use of that other word. He now knew that Janie must have told Bethany everything.

“And what else,” Bethany pushed for more, needing Matthew to experience admitting to the details.

“Corner time, to reflect on my mistakes afterward,” Matthew’s voice was stronger with the admission of his past.

“Shall I try spanking you, Matthew? Will you submit to that correction whenever I deem it necessary? Or would you rather start packing this afternoon?”

Matthew knew he was cornered, with only one option that resulted in staying in the apartment.

“I will take your spankings, Bethany.”

“Good, Janie will be happy to know we’re trying to make this work. Now strip, we’ll do this with a bare ass.”

“Strip?” Matthew blurted, “but I never …”

Bethany cut him off, “Matty, it’s my house, and my rules, now strip or pack.”

Matthew obediently disrobed, thinking that the loss of protection from the material wouldn’t matter much with Bethany’s small hands. He folded each piece of clothing and placed them in a tidy stack at one end of the sofa. As he was finishing, Bethany spoke.

“Why don’t you put those in your room now, and come back here to see me.”

“Yes Bethany,” Matthew said quietly and carried his clothes to his room.

When Matthew returned to the living room he found Bethany sitting in one of the straight-backed wooden chairs from the dinette. She had also removed her jacket and was wearing only her skirt and bra. Matthew’s eyes widened when he saw that she held a thick wooden paddle. It didn’t have any bristles, but it looked a lot like the hairbrush he’d known at home. Apparently, Bethany knew everything. If this ever came up, it was going to be an interesting conversation with Janie.

Bethany pointed at a spot a few feet in front of her and Matthew moved to stand there. His hands covered his groin, and he thought his earlier ball-draining would have resulted in a somewhat less active response from his cock.

“Hands to your sides Matty.” Bethany directed calmly.

“Do you know why you are here?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am,” the form of address slipped out from reflexive memory, “because I need to be reminded to behave better and follow the rules.”

Bethany smiled at the slip. This was going to be fun after all.

“Very well Matthew, I accept your agreement to submit. If you are incapable of going on, you may use “Napoleon” as your safeword. I do not intend to force that to occur, but you may have it as an assurance. I am not going to tell you how many strokes I intend to apply. Nor will I make you count them. It will be enough that you contemplate the actions which got us to this point.”

“Yes m… Bethany,” Matthew corrected himself.

“That’s o.k. Matty, you may address me politely as ma’am when you feel it is appropriate.”

Bethany crooked her finger and patted her lap. Matthew knew what was expected of him and laid across her thighs, steadying himself with toes and fingertips still in contact with the carpet. He barely suppressed a soft moan as he felt his semi-hard cock slide between Bethany’s soft inner thighs.

Holding the paddle in her dominant left hand, Bethany placed her right hand on the middle of Matthew’s back. The first blows were almost sensuous as Bethany got a feel for her stroke and for Matthew’s reactions. Then they came with intent. By the time she had laid down twenty strong strokes, covering both cheeks, Matthew was gasping with each impact. At forty he was squirming, begging “Please” but not using his safeword. At fifty Bethany stopped. She kept her right hand on Matthew’s back. With her left hand, she dropped the paddle to the carpet beside the chair, then gently touched Matthew’s burning red cheeks, watching his reaction for any spots that might have received more than an equal share of impact stimulation. Satisfied that he was still OK, even if now glowed bright red from the spanking, she moved forward with her plan.

“Up Matty.”

He stood.

“Corner,” Bethany pointed to the one empty corner in the room, “feet spread, hands behind your head. I will let you know when it’s been long enough.”

“Yes ma’am,” Matthew whispered as he obeyed.

Thoroughly spanked and deeply chastised by the feelings of his own submission in not standing up to Bethany, Matthew was glad he’d milked his own balls so thoroughly while Bethany entertained her client. He hoped that she had noticed the spanking didn’t appear to turn him on and feel that the punishment was more than enough. But as she stood facing the corner, with the heat in his ass still burning and tingling, his own cock continued to betray him. Soon he was standing there with a rock hard erection, brought on by the combination of the eroticism of Bethany in control and so many complex layers of his own arousal.

Matthew flinched mentally at the first distinctive clicking of Bethany’s phone camera. Biting his lips, he held his posture as he heard her move around behind him and snap a variety of shots.

“Don’t worry Matty,” she said, “these are just for my personal entertainment.”

Bethany lounged on the sofa as she contemplated Matthew’s predicament and considered what she knew about him from her closeness with Janie. He needed the apartment share arrangement. He also wanted to be close to Bethany to continue enjoying seeing her and having his jack-off sessions as he listened to her client dates. Lastly, he hated the thought of being that boy who needs to be disciplined to behave. And all of that was complicated by the obvious effects the situation was having on him.

Matthew stood quietly, hands behind his head, and listened as Bethany made a call.

“Hi, Janie…”

“Oh shit,” Matthew thought, “what now.”

“Oh, I think Matty and I are working out our little problems. … He really wants to stay here and says he’ll do anything now. … I just wanted to call and thank you for all your advice, I’m sure we’re going to be doing much better. … Love you Janie, bye-bye.”

Bethany took one more photo of Matthew before putting her phone down.

“Janie said to tell you to be a good boy,” she said to Matthew.

Matthew suppressed a groan, “good boy” was one of those phrases his mother always used. There were obviously no secrets between Janie and Bethany.

Bethany moved to stand close behind Matthew. Her hands felt cool to Matthew as she cupped the red cheeks of his ass and murmured about how warm they still felt. Matthew nearly jumped forward at the touch but managed to maintain his posture. The pretty blonde next slid around Matthew’s body, ducking under his upraised bicep to lean one shoulder against the wall for support. Looking down, she smiled broadly.

“Well, well, what do we have here Matty, it looks like you’re actually enjoying yourself.”

With the slightest of touches, two neatly manicured fingertips stroked along the top of Matthew’s erection from base to head. The fingertips continued back along the bottom of Matthew’s shaft and ended when Bethany spread her hand to encircle his scrotum above his heavy balls.

Matthew bit back the moan caused by the stroking fingertips, but the gasp which came as Bethany’s hand tightened around his balls escaped, to her amusement.

“These are now mine, Matthew Thomas,” Bethany said in a voice that invited no questions, “We had rules before and now we know what happens when the rules are broken, don’t we?”

“Yes,” muttered Matthew.

The hand tightened.

“Yes what, Matty?”

“Yes, Miss Bethany,” Matthew groaned.

“Good boy, I like that, … Miss Bethany, … you should use that more often.”

“Yes, Miss Bethany,” Matthew said quickly as a flexing of Bethany’s hand inspired a response.

“And I like having you naked around the place, I think that can be your apartment uniform from now on, until I decide on something else,” Bethany said with another squeeze.

“Yes, Miss Bethany.”

“Good boy, now why don’t you go get cleaned up. I know you didn’t have a chance to shower after listening to my lunchtime appointment.”

Matthew blushed at the inference and stepped back to turn and head for a shower. Before he got out of the room, Bethany spoke again.

“One more thing Matty. Clean-shaven. Every day.”

Matthew paused and touched his chin, it was barely stubbly after a couple of days of growth since his last shave.

Bethany smiled and added, “Yes, your chin too.”

Matthew’s eyes widened slightly at the suggestion. He knew that Bethany’s new expectations were part of the cost of staying, so he nodding in acknowledgment of her expectations.

“Yes ma’am.”

As Matthew disappeared down the hall, Bethany picked up her phone again. With practiced keystrokes, she selected one of her most recent photos and sent it to Janie.

Over the next week, Matthew found himself quietly accepting Bethany’s dishes to wash for her, and wiping down the exercise equipment after she used it. Each time he hoped to hear her expressed approval, with a softly spoken “Good boy.” Accepting that she wanted him naked in the apartment at all times was a challenge. Bethany added to that challenge by becoming more casual about her own attire. Matthew often turned at the sound of her voice to find her in sexy lingerie or fetish wear, and sometimes just panties or nothing at all. She found a secret delight in seeing Matthew’s cock rise to erection each time she was close or wore something to stimulate his imagination.

Despite the sexual tension that permeated the apartment, Bethany gave Matthew no hint that there was anything between them other than the rules. And she expected those rules to be followed completely.

To add to Matthew’s constant sexual frustration, Bethany rewarded his good behavior with a gift of six photos. Glossy color five-by-seven images, each was taken from a photoshoot she had done for one of her clients. The first was a classic headshot, with dramatic evening makeup and a very sexy smile on her lips. In the second, she was posing bending away from the camera and looking back, her legs accentuated by white stockings and stilettos leading the observer’s eye upwards to the white lace panties she wore. In the third photo, Bethany was dressed as a high school cheerleader, with a shorter skirt and tighter top than any high school would have allowed. The fourth photo featured a naked Bethany, as seen from the point of view of the man whose cock she rode, which was buried deep in her pussy. She was also naked in the fifth photo, laying back on a bed with a heavy load of cum spread from her navel to her cleavage. And the last photo seemed to have been taken just for Matthew, in it Bethany wore her blue leather skirt and white lace bra, she was sitting on a straight-backed wooden chair, and holding her paddle in her hands.

When Bethany handed Matthew the envelope of photos she told him they were for him to look at while he listened to her client visits. He would not, she reminded him, be receiving any links or digital content. One common element ran through the images, the way Bethany directed her gaze at the camera with a knowing look. Matthew felt each one was a shot of her looking right at him. The result was a mixture of boyish guilt for touching himself while he looked at photos of his sister’s friend and an overwhelming sense of need to be a good boy for her so that he could stay in the apartment. Each time Matthew lay in his bed he went through the photos. Every time he was close to cumming, he found himself holding the image of Bethany with her paddle as he remembered the spanking and the feel of Bethany’s thighs and hands against his body. Reliving that moment was usually enough to trigger his orgasm.

After a session in her bedroom with a client or a stunt cock, Bethany might catch Matthew in the kitchen or hallway. Standing close, until his engorged cock was almost touching her midriff, she’d ask if it “had been good for him too.” Not letting Matthew escape until he admitted that it was with a whispered “yes, ma’am,” Bethany would laugh as she danced away and ask if he had come two, or three, times while listening to her date. Even the frequent masturbation sessions failed to take the edge off the erotic tension Matthew felt any time he was near Bethany.

It was a little more than a week after the spanking that Bethany called Matthew into the living room. Glad for the distraction from reading emails explaining that firms were not hiring or not accepting resumes at this time, Matthew padded up the hallway with his mind still in work search mode. He halted with a minor shock as he reached the living room and saw what awaited him.

Bethany was standing beside one of the wooden chairs which had been placed exactly where the spanking had taken place. She was again wearing her blue skirt and white lace bra. On the seat of the chair lay the paddle. Flashes of the photo flickered across Matthew’s mind as he took in all the same elements before him.

Matthew stood stock still, speechless, his mind furiously trying to recall if he had breached the rules.

Bethany smiled as she saw the confused look spread across his face.

“No Matty, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Bethany reassured the nervous man, “but we know from experience that you only last about two weeks before you start to lapse. Two weeks after accepting my rules and moving in was your first failure. Another two weeks after that we needed to correct your behavior.”

“I’ve been good,” Matthew said quietly.

“Yes Matty, you’ve been a very good boy. It is time, however, for us to be proactive and ensure you are reminded of our agreement before anything starts to slide again. I have decided that the best way to do this is with periodic maintenance spankings.”

Matthew’s wide-ranging internet searches, made in efforts to understand his reactions around Bethany and to the first spanking, had introduced him to that term. It had never occurred to him that they might be added to the apartment routine.

“This is to benefit both of us Matty, and really it’s for your own good. I enjoy having you around and you do want to stay, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Matthew said, barely above a whisper.

“Yes …,” Bethany returned with one arching eyebrow for emphasis.

“Yes Miss Bethany,” Matthew said in a tone that was still quiet but indicating surrender to Bethany’s will.

“Good boy,” Bethany said cheerily as she picked up the paddle and took her seat. Patting her lap with her free hand she looked at Matthew expectantly.

Matthew approached and obediently lowered himself over Bethany’s lap. Without the benefit of a couple of orgasms in the preceding hour, as he had with the previous spanking, he felt his cock grow even harder as it slipped between Bethany’s thighs.

Bethany placed one hand on Matthew’s back and held the paddle against his bottom. She paused to explain that the maintenance spanking would be less severe than a punishment, but would necessarily have to be strict enough to be a firm reminder. Confirming that Matthew understood and was willing to continue, she began.

With each sharp strike of the paddle, Matthew experienced conflicting sensations. The sting of the paddle and growing heat and pain in his asscheeks was expected. The sensual feel of the head of his cock against Bethany’s leg was not. His cock remained hard throughout the spanking, the head rubbing against the crease where the bottom of Bethany’s thigh met the top of her calf behind her bent knee. Matthew fiercely hoped the spanking would cancel out any encroaching need to cum, but both sets of sensations rapidly increased.

Bethany reached the thirtieth stroke on her way to an intended forty when she realized that Matthew was indeed, almost humping her leg.

“If you cum on my leg Matthew,” Bethany spoke with the paddle adding emphasis, “I will make you lick it off me.”

It was all too much. The apartment arrangement, the spanking scene, the way his mind had been primed with the photos, Matthew’s increasingly willing submission, and now Bethany’s stern warning.

Bethany closed her thighs, capturing Mathew’s cock between them. Matthew shuddered and groaned. Both of them felt his warm cum pumping out to coat the inside of her calves with his seed.

Pushing Matthew off her lap Bethany closed her eyes and breathed deeply and slowly. Keeping her lips pressed together, she worked to maintain her composure and not let the mischievous smile that wanted to break our appear on her lips. She also kept her knees tight together even though she could feel the stickiness of the cum between her calves.

Matthew lay on the floor. In the quiet moment after being unceremoniously dumped from Bethany’s lap, he pulled himself into a kneeling position in front of her. He waited his mind a confusion of possibilities over how Bethany might react and what could come next.

“You are a messy boy,” Bethany said as she looked down at Matthew.

“I am sorry Miss Bethany, I will get a cloth,” replied Matthew, unable to take his eyes off Bethany’s knees while knowing his offending cum coated her calves.

“No, you won’t. I told you what you would be doing if you came on me, didn’t I?”

“Yes ma’am,” Matthew whispered, his mind flashing the photo image of Bethany covered in cum.

Bethany slowly spread her knees.

“Get to work, slut boy, or would you rather be packing.”

Kinky behavior didn’t bother Matthew, but the thought of being sent away had grown to be his greatest fear. Obediently, he dropped to his hands and knees and moved his head between Bethany’s feet to start licking upwards on each leg from ankle to knee. Each swipe of his tongue picked up a little more of his cum and he worked at his task until he was lapping at the lower edge of Bethany’s thighs.

As Matthew’s tongue worked over her calves, Bethany’s level of arousal steadily built. Her roommate wasn’t the only one who had been held at an erotic simmer during the preceding weeks. She wasn’t sure if it was the spanking, or Matthew’s quiet acquiescence, that made her pussy so wet this time. By the time Matthew reached the end of his task, Bethany had slid her ass to the edge of the chair seat and her skirt had ridden up to allow her to spread her thighs widely.

Matthew settled back on his knees. When he raised his eyes, he found himself staring directly into Bethany’s smoothly-shaven and very open pussy. Instinctively, he licked his lips, tasting the traces of his own cum on them.

Bethany smiled at Matthew’s reaction. Then she raised one foot and placed it against the center of his chest. With one slow but firm push, she placed Matthew on his back in front of her. Bethany then rose, keeping her skirt high to give her legs a greater range of motion, and stepped forward over Matthew. Straddling his face, she lowered herself until her pussy was inches from his eager tongue.