Gossip

On the outskirts of any big city you will find a few scattered small towns not yet gobbled up by the ravenous metropolis. They tend to be away from the major highways, which is probably the reason they haven't been overwhelmed. But with the big city just there, a lot of people drift from the small towns to the city itself. Shops that used to support the small town just can't compete with the big city malls and close down.

Unfortunate, but a fact of life, and an intelligent person will take advantage of this fact. If you have decent transport, why not save money by renting one of those empty places in those little towns? Rent's a lot cheaper and the commute is probably the same.

That's what I was currently doing. I'd found an old general store that had to close down. It had some nice living quarters attached, and the actual shop area made for one very large room. I just stuck up blinds over the large windows and made that front room a combination games room and garage for my motor-bike. And the rental was dirt cheap. The owner was just happy to have someone paying something rather than see his investment die.

So here I was, living in the equivalent of a small village, with all the mod cons of a big city just a short bike ride away. The only drawback to the place was that there was a bit of that small town mentality prevalent. Things ignored in the big city would be frowned upon here, but that didn't really worry me, as I wasn't doing anything that would bring the locals down on me.

At least, I didn't know I was. The first inkling I had that I might have a problem was when a couple of the town council members dropped around to see me. They were very firm in telling me that if I took drugs then they would have to ask me to vacate their town and not sully it with my unsavoury habits.

I was a little at a loss. I don't do drugs. Never really wanted to. Seems a silly idea to me. I politely told them that and asked them where on earth they got the idea that I did drugs.

Local gossip suggest it, they explained, and they felt they had to take a stance right from the word go. I agreed that they had the right idea and assured them that they had my full support in this area. I also delicately enquired as to who the local gossip was.

They wouldn't tell me, of course. Confidentiality and all that. I waved them goodbye and as they wandered off I saw them being intercepted by a young lady who lived nearby. I saw the senior member of the council shaking his head and practically patting hers, and I could take a fair guess at their informant.

The young lady was Isabel. I'd seen her around a few times. A few discrete inquiries had let me know that she was single, over eighteen and still lived with her parents. She was always dressed most demurely and had the reputation of being a good girl, but a trifle shy. In my opinion there is often a big difference between a reputation and the actuality. I resolved to keep an eye on that young lass.

My next unexpected visitor was Isabel's mother. She fronted up one Saturday morning. She was, she informed me a member of MADD. I looked confused. Mothers Against Drink Driving, she told me. OK. Was she collecting for them or something?

No such luck. She was there to lecture me about my reprehensible habit of riding on my motor-bike while intoxicated. She'd already informed the police that I did so, and she demanded that I cease it immediately.

I now had the reason I'd been pulled over and breathalysed three times in the previous week. The cops had been specifically waiting for me, tipped off by this idiot.

I explained that I didn't drink and ride as I had no intention of committing suicide. She explained that I couldn't hide it. Isabel had seen me early in the week, so intoxicated that I couldn't even walk properly after I got off my bike. The reason I stumbled the other day was because I tripped on a broken step, I explained, which I was in the middle of repairing, she might notice. She still stood their lecturing me about the evils of drinking and driving while I silently fumed and fixed the damn step.

I took the time that afternoon to intercept dear sweet Isabel and have a little chat with her. I suggested, politely, that she should have better things to do with her time than to go around spreading scurrilous rumours about me. I didn't like it and I would appreciate it if she would cease and desist.

She smirked and said she had no idea what I was talking about. It wasn't her fault if other people misinterpreted what she said.

"It bloody well is your fault when you deliberately toss nasty little bits of gossip around with not a shred of evidence but your fertile imagination," I snapped. "Now, please don't think I'm threatening you, but if you keep it up you will regret it."

"Sounds like a threat to me," she said. "I'll take your advice under consideration. I'm sure you'll find you're making a lot of to-do about nothing."

Maybe, but I would lay any money down on that being the case. I returned home, just knowing that the little wretch would come up with some other item of gossip with which to entangle me.

Didn't take long. There was a pounding on my door that evening and when I answered it Joe Hamperry was standing there. He and his wife live a few doors up. Joe's a big man, run to fat now. His wife on the other hand started out fat and has since got fatter. Joe got straight to the point.

"I hear you've been sniffing around my wife, and I won't have it, you hear?" he yelled as soon as I answered the door. "She's a good wife to me and I'm not going to have some city slicker hanging around and trying to lure her away."

He had to be joking. I'd as soon fuck a rancid nanny goat as try to get it on with his wife. Sooner! The nanny goat would probably have a smaller beard and would smell sweeter. Isabel had outdone herself this time.

"Hey, take it easy, Joe," I said softly, placing a hand gently on his chest. "I'm not trying to take your sweet wife away from you. What makes you think I'd be interested in her, you silly man."

I ran my free hand up and down his arm, smiling nicely.

"Why don't you came in and we can discuss this. I'm sure you'll quickly realise I mean no harm. I wouldn't want to upset a man as nice as you. You look awfully strong. I bet you've got some real nice muscles under this shirt."

While talking I brushed my hand lightly across his chest, trying to smile as sweetly as possible. Poor Joe went white and looked a little sick.

"My mistake," he said hastily. "Knew it couldn't be true. Got to run."

He turned and bolted before I could drag him into my lair.

I really was going to have to do something about our little malicious gossip. Heaven knew what else she might come up with. And why was she picking on me anyway? Just because I was new in the area? Not that it made much difference. I still had to shut her down.

One of the advantages of renting an old shop as a place to live is that you have a front door right on the footpath. I kept one eye out for Isabel and when I saw her coming I opened the door and waited. As soon as she drew level I just reached out, took her arm and hoicked her inside.

She gave a startled yelp and glared at me, but I don't think anyone else even noticed.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" she snapped at me. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Just the question I was going to ask," I observed. "You almost got me a black eye."

"What did I do," she asked giving me an all innocent butter wouldn't melt in my mouth look.

"Joe Hamperry," I said. "All fire and fury because someone told him I was chasing after his wife."

Isabel started giggling at that.

"God," she finally managed to gasp out. "I couldn't believe he'd go for that line. He's always been jealous of her, but really. It was even funnier when he found out you were gay. He now thinks you're after him. You could have warned me you were gay."

"Why? Do you want to spread a rumour that I have AIDS and no-one should come too close to me? Or are you just anti-gay?"

"I wouldn't spread those kind of rumours," she protested, "and of course I'm not anti-gay. I couldn't care less about anyone's sexual preferences."

"No. You're just spreading the type of rumour that could get me evicted, arrested for doing drugs, arrested for drink-driving or beaten to a pulp by an angry husband."

"But it's only a bit of fun," she protested. "None of those things actually happened, now did they?"

"Not through any fault of yours," I pointed out, "and I'm sure the cat thinks it's only having a bit of fun. The mouse probably thinks otherwise."

Isabel flushed slightly at that crack, but I doubted it really hit home.

"I warned you to cut out the gossip and trouble making," I reminded her. "I did mention that there'd be repercussions if you didn't?"

"So what are the grand repercussions going to be?" Isabel asked. "Are you going to yell at me? Tell my parents. I'm so scared. Please tell me what you plan to do."

"Now why would I yell or tell your parents? That would achieve exactly nothing. No, I was tossing up between a couple of different options. At first I thought I'd just put you over my knee and spank you. Then I thought that it might be a lot more fun to ravish you. I finally decided that I really should go for broke. Spank you and then ravish you."

That woke her up a bit. She straightened up and glared at me.

"You wouldn't dare. If you laid a finger on me I'd have you arrested."

"For a spanking? I'd tell the cops it was just a lovers tiff and they'd probably just give me a warning. Especially after they examine your bottom and find it's only been paddled."

"They won't be quite that lenient if I charge you with rape."

"No. Probably not. But the court will take the special circumstances into consideration and, seeing how remorseful I am that I got carried away the way I did, I'd probably get a very lenient sentence. No prison time. Probably some community service."

"What special circumstances?" Isabel demanded. "Rape is rape. There aren't any special circumstances to rape."

"Well there just might be in this case. According to the gossip that's going around, you're trying to help cure my gayness by showing me what a real woman is like. So if in the course of my treatment I get carried away, who could blame me? Not the courts, I think."

"There's no such gossip going around," Isabel snapped.

"Actually, I think you'll find there is," I said softly. "Two people can play the gossip game, you know."

Isabel was now looking a little nervous, and I saw her glance at the door, wondering if she could make it if she ran. I could practically see her mind churning, trying to find the flaw in what I intended. She finally spotted it and smirked. If I was gay, I wouldn't really want to have sex with her.

"So when do you intend to start this little punishment of yours," she asked, still smirking.

"Oh, I thought right now would be a good time. Why put it off?"

I moved towards her, herding her in the direction of the main living quarters. She moved along readily enough.

"Why not put off the spanking until after the ravishment?" she asked. "I'd just as soon not be spanked."

"But the idea of being ravished doesn't bother you? You're actually agreeing to have sex?"

"Why not? It'll be interesting. I've never had sex with a gay man before."

"I'll take your agreement as blanket consent," I said affably. "Oh, and you'll find that you still won't have had sex with a gay man," I added, as I shepherded her into the bedroom.

That gave her a jolt.

"Are you saying you're not gay?" she demanded, looking shocked. "Joe swears that you are. Fruitier than Mabel's fruit cake, is the way he described you."

"And where Joe and his beloved wife are concerned, I'll remain gay. But between you, me, and that nice comfortable bed, no, I'm not."

Isabel looked around, seeming quite disconcerted.

"Um, you're not seriously thinking that you can have sex with me are you?" she asked, her new found nervousness plain in her voice.

"Why don't we discuss that after the spanking?" I suggested.

"But I don't want a spanking either," she protested.

"That's OK. I didn't want to be hassled by police and councillors and outraged husbands and MADD mothers. But when I was, I coped. I'm sure you'll cope when you find yourself being spanked. Now I'm a firm believer in spanking a young lady on a bare bottom. It adds that je ne sais quoi, don't you think?"

"I am not taking off my panties for you to spank me. End of story."

"I was thinking more along the lines of total nudity rather than just panties," I explained. "I enjoy looking at the female figure and I suspect that you've probably got a good one under those shapeless clothes you wear. Why do you wear things like that, anyway?"

"My mother insists on buying my clothes," Isabel muttered. "She has old fashioned tastes. And I am definitely not taking them off for you."

"I haven't asked you to. I'm quite capable of undressing a young lady - even if she doesn't want to get undressed. You never know, you may enjoy the experience."

That was the point at which Isabel's nerve broke. She turned and tried to run for the door. I picked her up before she completed the first step and tossed her onto the bed, following close behind. I then proceeded to demonstrate that I wasn't boasting when I said I was capable of undressing a young lady despite her objections.

It was quite interesting. Isabel was very vocal in her objections, and her struggles were arousing me nicely. I did notice, though, that while she protested and squeaked and squealed and struggled gamely, she never actually screamed. It was always possible, even probable, that a loud scream would be heard outside, and I'm quite sure she would have realised that.

It didn't take long and Isabel was naked, crouched on the bed and trying to hide her charms. I just stood back from the bed and stripped, watching her watching me. Her eyes opened very wide when my shorts came off and she saw my arousal.

"The question now," I told Isabel, "is do you want the spanking to be separate from the ravishment or do you want the spanking to be arousing and lead on to a natural seduction?"

Isabel looked blank. I sighed.

"You haven't got the faintest idea as to what I'm talking about, have you?"

She blushed and looked pointedly away.

"God save me from virgins," I muttered. "Proper sex education would see the girls being dragged off and ravished for a day so that they know what happens."

"I never said I was a virgin," snapped Isabel, glaring at me.

"But you are," I pointed out. "Never mind. It's a curable condition. At least it lets me know how to proceed."

I sat on the side of the bed.

"Now be a good girl and bend over my knee as though you are really sorry for the trouble you've been causing. We both know you're not, but you can pretend."

"And if I don't?"

"You still finish up over my knee, but the spanking may go on for a bit longer."

There was a fair amount of muttering under her breath, but Isabel did as requested, bending across my knee. There was also a bit of wriggling involved once she was there as she was trying to avoid contact with my erection. The wriggling didn't help as I just adjusted her position until my erection was wedged firmly between our bodies, pressing hard against her.

I ran my hand lightly over her bottom, feeling her squirm slightly at my touch. I continued giving her a gentle massage, up one cheek and down the other, before probing gently at the edge of the cleft between her legs.

"Spread your legs a little more."

"Why?" came the reply, which was answered with the first spank.

"Because I said so," I replied after the squeal had died down.

Again I ran my hand over her bottom, this time being able to slide my hand between her legs and gently squeeze her mound. Isabel promptly bucked and protested, and I just as promptly delivered another spank.

It went on like that for a few minutes. I explored Isabel's body and met every protest with a firm spank. Isabel very quickly learnt not to protest. Finally I decided that the spanking could get under way properly. My free hand reached around to cup a very nice breast and I warned her to hold still for the spanking.

She squirmed a little, but didn't try to resist and my hand came down very firmly on her bottom. While I spanked I explained to Isabel what I considered to be shortcomings in her behaviour. She squealed and protested and apologised, and I gave her the spanking her parent should have given her years ago.

Satisfied that she'd got the message I moved onto phase two. I brought my hand down firmly but instead of landing on her bottom I delivered a sharp slap to her pussy, cupping her mound neatly. It was noisy and would have smarted a little but didn't really do much more than encourage her mound to smarten up, because there was more coming.

Isabel gave a shocked gasp, followed by a loud squeal when another slap landed in the same manner.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she wailed.

"Spanking you," I pointed out, my hand landing on her bottom. "I thought you realised that."

"That's not my bottom," she furiously informed me when another light spank landed on her mound.

"I never said I would restrict the spanking to your bottom," I pointed out, landing another inappropriate spank.

"Have you an objection to me spanking here?" I asked, leaving my hand cupping her mound. While waiting for her to decide what to say I gently squeezed her mound and started rubbing my hand around in circles, inadvertently dragging her lips apart when my hand ran across them.

"You're not supposed to be touching me there," Isabel finally managed to say.

"If you come right down to it," I observed, "I probably shouldn't be spanking you at all. And I'm quite sure I'm not supposed to ravish you when the spanking is finished, but I'm going to do that, too. Do you want me to finish the spanking now?"

A fine choice for her. Stop the spanking and the ravishment starts. Continue the spanking and I was doing naughty things to her pussy. While she made up her mind I continued playing.

I never did know which way she was going to go. I think she was about to tell me at the same time that I slipped a finger inside her and started exploring. Whatever she had been about to say was lost in a startled squeal.

Isabel started writhing slowly, and I could feel her pussy pressing up against my hand, urging my finger deeper. She was muttering something under her breath, but damned if I knew what. I don't know about mentally, but her body was certainly ready for what was to come. She was hot and so wet that her lips were starting to dribble.

I leaned back onto the bed, rolling over and taking Isabel with me. Before she fully caught on to what was happening she was flat on her back with me leaning over her, mouth sucking lightly on a nipple. Her hands clutched my hair, presumably to pull my head away from her breasts, but they just stayed there, entangled in my hair while I tasted her breasts.

While doing this my hand was still down between her legs, keeping the suspense and excitement building. I reared up, poised above her. Isabel was looking down between our bodies to where my erection was resting on her mons.

"Move your legs further apart and lift your knees," I advised. "It will make it easier for you to take me."

She didn't say a word, just kept staring down at my cock, but her legs moved wide and her knees lifted high, ready for me.

"Now ease your lips apart for me," I murmured, moving my hands away from her mound.

She did, her hand going down and spreading her lips. Not very far, but the intent was there.

"Now steer me into place," I commanded.