Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: The Delivery Girl (MF, bond)
Date: 16 Nov 1995 05:12:12 GMT

			  The Delivery Girl
				  by
				 Garr

	Living on a large piece of property I felt it was time to
start fixing it up. My house was coming along and I must start the
yard. So with pen in hand I started my plans. It was still winter so I
had a month until the rains stopped a lot of time to figure. I would
need a lot of supplies, gravel, rock and top soil. Being long on
muscle and short on funds I made out a budget over the next three
years to enhance my land.

	The first step in the budget was to find out how much things
would cost, so I took a ride to the local supplier. I drove in the
yard and started to wonder around looking at the different rock and
dirt and up walked the cutest little lady, she looked like a doll. She
was about thirty years old, five foot tall with the most beauty blue
eyes, smooth peach skin and blond hair braided and put up. She was
wearing very tight blue jeans and a tight sweat shirt. She asked me if
I needed help and I explained to her what I was going to do, where I
lived, and I was getting prices only at this time.

	She introduced herself, said her name was Carol, as we walked
around she told me the prices of the different material. I followed
and I noticed she had the cutest shaped bottom. I thanked her and went
on my way. I fantasized about turning her over my knee all the way
home.

	About a month later the weather broke and I started my
projects. I order my first load and was surprised to see Carol driving
the dump truck. I showed her where to dump it and was even more
surprised when she jumped out of the cab in a pair of short shorts.
She dumped the load and I started talking with her and she was very
interested in what I was doing so I showed her around. I asked her if
she did all the deliveries and she said no, but the other driver was
gone for the afternoon and she filled in.

	She spent about twenty minutes and then she suddenly said she
had to go. As she jumped back in the truck, she kept talking and I
didn't know if she was selling more material or if she was the overly
friendly type. But it was enjoyable to watch her climb in the cab.

	I ordered material several more times that year and it was
always Carol who delivered it. She always spent a while talking and
wanting to look around and I always obliged. But the time the rains
came I was well on my way. The yard looked good and I had many
fantasies about my delivery girl.

	The second year came and I called for my first load of the
year. Nobody was there and I left my order on their answering machine.
That afternoon I heard the truck and I was dismayed to see a guy
driving the truck. I showed him where to dump it and he was on his
way. He spoke about two words the whole time. It was good while it
lasted I thought and I figured she was gone and that was that.

	About a month later I called to order some top soil and was
delighted when Carol answered. She knew me instantly and said she
would bring it right out.

	When she arrived I showed her where to dump it and we started
talking and I asked her who the man was that delivered the load last
time. She said, "I didn't know you ordered? I must of been out that
afternoon, oh that guy was the owner."

	I asked if he was always so gruff and she said, "no, only when
he has to work." Again we ended up chatting for about twenty minutes
and she was again interested in what I was doing. I ordered from her
three or four more times and was surprised to get a couple phone calls
from her advertising specials or asking how it was going. The year
ended and the rains came. I had a lot done but I was wishing I could
order and do more.

	That winter I ran into Carol in the market a few times. It was
just a short hello and off. I told her the upcoming year was going to
be the hardest. I was going to build a road on my place.

	The spring came and I started my road. I ordered some shale
and out came Carol with a load. I showed her where to drop it and
where to spread it too. She checked it out and backed the truck up and
dumped it. She had trouble getting it into gear and dropped the whole
load at one spot. She jumped out and was very apologetic and said she
blew it. I was a little mad and I told her that it would make a lot of
work for me!

	She said, "It won't happen again," and I said, "If it does we will
have a little chat!" She said that's what her dad used to say when she
was in trouble. I said she was in trouble with me, and she started
acting very demure. She asked me not to call her boss and that she
would bring me extra next time, and leave off the delivery charge. I
agreed and told her next time I will not be so easy on her. I could
tell she was a little turned on. I pointed over to a bundle of
switches I have recently trimmed. She was not at all put off by it but
said, "Yes sir, that's just like my dad, too."

	She left and I went to work on my road but I could not get her
response out of my mind. Should I've tried then to spank her for her
misdeed. Should I've even said anything. It's a small town and it was
a risk, but it did turn out o.k., I hoped.

	I needed another load a couple days later and I called in the
order. Carol answered and she was giving me this, "yes sir, no sir," the
whole time on the phone. She said they were backed up and could not
get there until 4:30 but would bring me a little extra. I hung up and
had a feeling that something was going on in her mind. 4:30 came and
went and she was not there and I was wondering what was happening. She
was always on time and did not ever run late.

	Finally at 5:15 she showed up. I pointed to where I wanted the
shale dumped and she never got out of the truck. She backed up the
truck and I pointed where I wanted her to spread the shale. She opened
the flap and down came the rock. All in one pile! She jumped out and
said, "I couldn't get it going. I'm sorry sir." I said, "that won't work
this time." "Yes sir, I guess you'll have to reprimand me for my
mistake." "Yes I will." She asked if she should go get a switch and I
told her yes.

	She walked over to the stack of switches and pulled out one
that was about thirty inches long and returned with it. She handed it
to me and turned toward her truck. She was wearing a pair of shorts
and she pulled them down and her panties came with them. I was glad I
lived in the country and had no neighbors. She bent over the dump
lever and said, "I'm sorry sir, I know I have earned a dozen and I am
sorry that I have made you whip me."

	I took on the role of daddy right away and started to
lecture her on her unsatisfactory ways. She just stood there with
her bottom up in the air. I lined up the switch and let go a moderate
swing. She let out a slight ouch and not much more, the second stripe
was a little harder, whack! She jumped and cried out. The third was a
little harder yet and left a welt. I could tell she was enjoying it
and I put a little more sting into each swing and each after that left
a slight welt. Whack, "Owww, please sir," she responded. Whack, oww.

	After each cut she would shoot up and rub her bottom.

	After about eight she started wiggling after each spank of the
switch as she stood. I was so turned on and I could tell she was too.
I swing for the twelve time and she screamed, rubbed her bottom and
promised to be more careful in the future.

	I asked her if she wanted to come in for a while as she pulled
up her shorts and she said she had to get the truck back but would
like to come back up in about an hour. I said, "yes, that would work
out fine, be on time!" "Yes sir," she replied.

	An hour and a half passed and I was sure she was backing out
when I heard a car in the drive. It was Carol in an old '65 mustang. I
watched her get out and start toward the house and I was staggered by
what she was wearing. I could not see that well because of the dark
but it looked like she was wearing a cheerleader outfit. I had
showered and put on something more relaxed. I quickly pulled off my
shirt and put on something more like my dad would of worn in the
evening. I yelled for her to walk in, and found her in the kitchen. I
looked at her and she checked me out and said

	"Dad, I'm sorry I am late but the principal wanted to see me."

	I fell into the role at once.

	"You are suppose to call when you're late!"

	"I'm sorry dad but I should tell you, well here." Carol handed
me a note from some made up principal. The note said that Carol was
caught smoking and cutting class. I looked over the top of the note
and Carol was standing there. The cheerleader outfit fit her
perfectly, a short little skirt that hit about mid-thigh and a tight
sweater. Her makeup, her hair in ponytails and her tennis shoes with
knee sox, she look like a teenager.

	"Carol, I told you the next time you get in trouble I'm going
to take you over my knee, I've had enough of your spoiled ways."

	"Please dad, I'm to old to spank."

	"No you're not young lady, not as long as you act like a little
spoiled brat!"

	With that said I grabbed her by the arm and escorted her into
the dining room. I pulled out a chair, sat down and said to her "you
will get punished for each digression separately. First, an hand
spanking for being late and not calling. Then I am going to put you in
the corner for twenty minutes.

	Next a spanking with the hair brush for cutting class and
after another twenty minutes in the corner, sixteen stingers (one for
each year of your age) with the cane for smoking." I looked her in the
eye the whole time to see if I would get any message that it was to
much and she just stayed with the guise.

	"Carol, come here."

	I pointed to a spot right next to my left side. She slowly
moved to the spot. I grabbed her arm again and guided her over my
knee. She was so small it was like having a teenager over my knee. I
pulled her skirt up and pulled her panties down. Her bottom had
recovered from the switching earlier. I must not of hit as hard as I
thought I did. I then lectured her as I spanked her bottom. Spank
after spank landed on her bottom and she cried and wiggled and played
the part. I must of spanked her about fifty times when I tucked her
skirt in and stood her up. I directed her to a corner and got the
kitchen timer and set it to twenty minutes. I told her to stand here
while I fetch the hair brush.

	I took my time finding the hair brush and came back into the
room quietly and watched her standing there, with her panties around
her ankles and her skirt tucked up. The timer was ticking away and she
was rubbing her bottom with both hands.

	DING went the timer and I said, "Carol get over her now and
take off those panties." She did as I commanded and I placed her back
over my knee and she started crying as soon as she was over.

	I told her that won't work that she was going to get thirty
with the hair brush and I started. Whack, owwww Whack, Owww Carol
cried and she started kicking and I gave her a couple quick swats on
the backs of her legs and warned her about further kicking and the
swats did not count. She cried and squirmed and when I was done with
the hair brush I sent her back to the corner and told her to remove
her skirt, and I set the timer and went to get the cane.

	I stood in the doorway and watched her in the corner. She had
one hand rubbing her bottom and the other working her twat. I let her
be for a couple minutes, then I entered the room loudly.

	As I did the timer sounded and I told her to lay over the arm
of the sofa in the living room. She moved slowly and was crying and
rubbing her bottom the whole time.

	After guiding her to the right position I stepped back and
really enjoyed what I saw. A small, firm girl with a real tight red
bottom. Knee sox and tennis shoes laying over the arm of an
overstuffed couch waiting for the cane from dad. I lined up the cane
and told her SHE was to count the sixteen strokes. With that said I
pulled back and let one go. She cried out, I whacked her much harder
then I did this afternoon and it left a very apparent welt. Owww ONE!
she cried, I lined up the cane again and came down with the second
stinger. "Owwww," she cried. The third one brought her up rubbing and
moaning. I took my time with the sixteen cuts sometimes waiting a
minute or two between cuts and when I was finished she was crying and
rubbing her bottom. I said, "Give dad a hug," and she was all over me,
thanking me and thanking me and well, thanking me for the
chastisement. That was a night to remember and I hope to have many
more like it soon.