Goaded by the New 'Brat' Next Door

This story is in the 'non-consent' genre because it involves spanking. It might have been in one of many other genres, but to be safe it's here, I will tag it with the other content.

It's set in two neighbouring houses in the midlands in the UK, as a lot of my other stories are.

It's a fantasy story written from a male viewpoint. I believe a lot of my readers may be men, but to the women who read it I apologise for possibly 'getting it wrong in places!' we men often do! (Ironic pause!)

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Living on my own for the last three years I wondered what the new neighbours would be like. I knew it was a mother and daughter, Ruth and Mike Jones, the people who were moving out, had told me so.

On the Tuesday when they moved in I took them a bottle of wine and introduced myself.

"Hi, I'm Jack Nicholls from next door, I thought I'd welcome you. If I can help, or you need anything just ask please, absolutely anytime."

Sarah Gibbs, as she introduced herself, was very attractive, even in the rather disheveled state that she was in. Trying to pull her hair into place, and tuck her t-shirt back into her jeans it was obvious to me that my new neighbour had a very shapely body, and the blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes hit you straight away.

The daughter, Emma, was a different matter. Less than five feet tall, so tiny, so slim, quite flat chested, she had short cropped hair which was dyed black, and a ring through the side of one nostril. She was, as I understood it, a goth. She didn't have any tattoos as far as I could see, but she had very full lips which she had coloured in bright red lipstick.

"Oh, that's so nice of you, you really shouldn't have," she said with a smile, "thank you so much, I'm Sarah, and this is Emma my daughter."

Emma sort of grunted a "Hi."

"Well I won't stop you getting on," I added, "but please do ask if you want any information, I'd better tell you bin day is Thursday."

"Yes I did get that... I looked at the council website, but yes I will ask if I want to know anything."

I left them to it, and went back home to have my morning coffee. It was later in the afternoon that the music started.

I made an assumption that while they were rearranging the house, and presumably storing stuff away, they were letting their hair down a bit, no doubt celebrating! It was about seven 'o clock that Sarah rang my doorbell. The music had quietened a bit, but it was still playing.

She looked concerned, "I've come to apologise Jack, I'm sorry."

It didn't seem right to talk on the doorstep so I gestured with my hand, "Come on in Sarah, what are you sorry about?"

"The noise, the music. Emma's being difficult, as she usually is. I think I ought to explain."

"Lets go into the kitchen, sit down... please Sarah." Hesitating I added, "would you like a glass of wine, I've just opened a bottle?"

Sarah looked preoccupied, " Oh go on then, I think I need it."

I poured a glass of Pinot Grigio and handed it to her, sitting opposite her on the stools at the breakfast bar, "So tell me, what's up?"

Sarah's face looked downcast.

"Since I got divorced, Emma has been really difficult. It was three years ago when she was fifteen, which is an awkward age anyway. I thought she'd improve, but she left school before her 'A' levels and for the last year has been absolutely rudderless."

"Can I tell you something," I interrupted, "Before I took early retirement I was a teacher for many years, I've taught quite a few girls like Emma, I do know it's a difficult thing to manage and I wasn't even their parent!"

Sarah reached across and gripped my arm, her face seemed to throw off it's foreboding.

"Jack, you don't know how good that sounds, someone who understands the problem just a little. Emma has upset so many of my friends, I'm always apologising for her."

I put my hand on top of hers by way of reassurance, "So the apologising, at least to me, stops now. I can put up with the music, I'm sure she's seen how you're bothered by it upsetting me, and she's probably playing up to that."

We both seemed to relax a bit, and when we'd finished the wine Sarah got up saying that she must get back.

"I'm glad we've had this talk, you seem to understand it more than most."

She leaned forward and kissed my cheek to say goodbye, "I'm sorry I've burdened you with my problems when we've only just met, but I'm hoping things will settle down when I start my new job on Monday."

"You concentrate on that," I said, "but if you need anything, anything at all, just ask."

Over the next couple of days Sarah did come and ask a few things, about local shops, chemists, cheap fuel, and suchlike. It led us to exchanging mobile numbers and on the Sunday I invited her into the garden for a morning coffee.

Emma came too, dressed in an incredibly short mini skirt which she allowed to 'ride up' whenever the opportunity arose. I actually engaged her in a reasonably sensible conversation about goths and teen culture, but there was always an 'edge' to it. Some sort of challenge based upon me being an old dinosaur.

Sarah laughed, we discovered that I was only twenty years older than her. I must have made some sarcastic remark because Emma then accused both of us of flirting. Sarah blushed, and I knew straightaway that it was Emma's attempt to stir up trouble.

After they'd gone I got a text message from Sarah apologising yet again.

I replied with one word, 'Stop!' and added a smiley face and the obligatory 'x.'

To my surprise I got two in return, 'xx.'

When Monday arrived I got out of bed at eight 'o clock and parted the curtains to see Sarah drive off to her new job. It was no surprise that by the time I'd showered and dressed, the music had begun. I sat at the breakfast bar eating my toast, and drinking my orange juice, wondering how long it would be before my lack of reaction would prompt something from Emma.

It took longer than expected, and the dark music was becoming monotonous. Finally it stopped, and a few minutes later a face appeared at the kitchen window. Tapping the glass I went to open the kitchen door.

"Please Mr Nicholls, I can't turn off the bathroom tap, it won't stop!"

Emma was now contrite, needing help, and looking less angry.

"You mean it's stuck?... just hang on..," I said quickly, "let me get my tools."

I had a small bag of essential tools in the cupboard under the stairs. I grabbed them and followed Emma out of my side gate and in through hers, entering her house by the kitchen door.

In a hurry I followed her upstairs, trying desperately to avoid looking up at her panties that were on view, and the very cute ass under her extremely short skirt. Whether she was aware of that I'm not sure, but we entered the bathroom where the tap on the wash basin was gushing water.

"It's jammed or something," she said, "I didn't know what to do, except come to you."

It only took a few minutes to gently ease it with a spanner, and Emma looked decidedly relieved.

"It's got jammed because it's hard water here," I explained, "it needs cleaning or replacing, try not to open it up completely until your mum can get a plumber."

"Phew," Emma's relief was apparent, "mum's having a new bathroom soon anyway, it's the first thing we're having done."

"No damage done then, I'll leave you to it, and just turn the volume down a bit!"

I turned to go downstairs as Emma disappeared inside what was her bedroom. In seconds the music was playing, but at a very much lower volume. When she came out, she smiled, "Okay?"

I grinned too, "Okay! but don't let it creep up."

At the bottom of the stairs she thanked me again, "Can I get you coffee?"

I must have stuttered a bit, I wanted to say 'yes,' but I was thinking it was inappropriate to be alone with a young girl so I refused. My teacher training had been ingrained.

"I'd better not," I said.

"Why?" she asked, and I saw a mischievous smile flicker across her face.

"Because your mum might think it odd, me an older man, who neither of you know, having coffee with her daughter."

"I wouldn't tell her, go on stop."

Emma could see I was conflicted, and I wavered.

"I'll tell her you fixed the tap, that's all." She sounded convincing.

The logic persuaded me, and I took her at face value, a mistake that I should have avoided.

"Ok, just a quick cup."

I followed her into the kitchen, a very similar one to mine with stools at a breakfast bar. I put my tool bag down and sat on one of the stools, watching Emma put the kettle on. When she went to the fridge to get some milk I should have realised her strategy.

I watched as she bent over, clearly giving me a view up her short skirt. I looked away as she turned back, but not quite quick enough to avoid letting her know that I'd been looking.

The next remark confirmed I should have given the coffee a miss.

"Are you going to screw my mum?"

My face must have looked aghast, and I felt myself going red.

"Emma! you can't come out with stuff like that, now you're just trying to embarrass me."

"Well you are embarrassed, and you've both been flirting a bit!"

"No, I'm not going to screw your mum, as you so delicately put it! I think I ought to forget this coffee if you're gonna talk like this."

"No... stay... but I think she probably would with you, she likes older men, and she's had a few 'one nighters' since dad."

"Emma, I don't need to know that."

I actually wanted to know exactly that, Sarah was quite the sexy woman.

I carried on, "And you're being quite provocative, you know you're embarrassing me... some people might call you a 'brat."

"Oooh I like being called that." Her face lit up.

I got up to go, "Look I'm going, I'll tell your mum that I got you out of trouble with the tap if she asks."

"Hmmmm," Emma looked thoughtful, and even more mischievous, "okay if you really have to, thanks for fixing it, but I'll put a good word in for you with mum!"

"Don't!" I said, "you're stirring it!" before I left by the kitchen door.

It was only twenty minutes after Sarah arrived home that she tapped on the kitchen door herself.

"Thanks for fixing the tap for Emma, she told me what happened. I'm going to have a new bathroom soon, so I'll tell her to be careful."

"That's okay, come on in, she was panicking a bit I guess.... glass of wine?"

"No, I'd better not," she smiled, "not because I wouldn't love to, but it's my first day, I've got some work to do, we'll have one soon though, I promise."

When she'd left I heard Emma turn her music on, and Sarah shout to 'turn it down.' She did and I settled in for an evening of tv.

In bed that night I couldn't settle, the episode with Emma and what she'd said about her mum brought all sorts of images to my mind. I found myself with an erection, imagining Sarah naked, astride me, fucking for all she was worth. Inevitably I masturbated, and only then could I relax and go to sleep. Living alone brought needs that often required satisfying.

Next morning came the voice again, "Mr Nicholls, can you help?"

I took a deep breath. I was out on my patio, it was a warm September day and I was spraying some roses. Emma's call came over the fence.

"What's up Emma?"

"I can't seem to get the lid off this jar."

Sensing a little bit of mischief I replied, "Pass it over the fence, I'll do it."

However, in moments she appeared through my side gate, again with a ridiculously short skirt and a t-shirt that seemed to accentuate her flat chest. With her tiny frame still struggling with the jar I took it from her, and with the slightest twist opened it.

"You can have your marmalade now."

Expecting her to thank me and return home she just stood there.

"Aren't you going to make me coffee now Mr Nicholls?"

I pulled a face, "You know what I'm going to say don't you."

She giggled, "Yes I know, I'm a brat! I loved it when you called me that."

"Well you are, and don't keep calling me Mr Nicholls, it's Jack, and for god's sake don't tell your mum I called you a brat!"

She giggled again, "So no coffee then?"

I said 'no' at first, then when she called me 'chicken,' I stupidly relented, my inner instincts and old advice ignored, "Alright, but no tricks, no embarrassing conversation."

"Promise," she replied, and entered the kitchen ahead of me.

"You can sit down if you want," I said, pointing to a stool.

"Yes, okay, but I want to look around first."

Without waiting she put the jar of marmalade on the breakfast bar, and wandered into the lounge. I should have stopped her, but I continued to percolate the coffee.

"Is this where you work?" she shouted.

I went to the doorway and saw her looking at my desk in the window, my laptop was there.

"Do you watch porn? I bet you do... all men do."

"I told you, no embarrassing conversations, but yes, that's where I work, or at least write emails and edit photos."

"Photography, you into that?"

"Yes, it's one of my hobbies." I replied.

"I just use my phone, you know selfies and stuff. You ever take naughty stuff?"

"Emma stop! I told you, you're going into brat mode again."

She giggled the infectious laugh again, casually opening my laptop, bending over my desk and twerking her ass at me.

I stepped forward towards her, reaching to close it, "Emma, I shouldn't have asked you in."

"I'm enjoying being a brat," she replied arrogantly.

As I shut the laptop she turned, and standing in the middle of the room, half bending over, she wiggled her ass at me again.

I really don't know what came over me, I knew I was being goaded, but somehow I lost all logic. On the desk beside my laptop was a photographic magazine. I picked it up, folded it longways and smacked Emma across the backside.

"OHH," she exclaimed, "Mr Nicholls!"

It was a huge mistake and I reacted quickly, "Fuck, Emma, I'm so sorry... god, I shouldn't have done that."

I was hot all over.

She stood up, turning to face me with an expression which was a mixture of triumph and a knowledge of her advantage.

"That was naughty Jack, wasn't it, I wonder what mum would say about that!"

I sank back onto my office chair, aware of my possible future appearance in court! All those years of doing things by the book had been forgotten. This diminutive girl stood gloating at my indiscretion.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," I repeated.

"Did you do that to girls when you were a teacher?"

"Jesus, no, of course I didn't."

"Hmmmm, well if I'm a brat perhaps I need it."

Now Emma was smirking, and I was a mess.

"Please Emma, forgive me, your mum needn't know."

"I'll have to think about it," she replied, and casually turned, wandering back into the kitchen. I followed at a distance, seeing her pick up the marmalade and exit the side door, "we'll discuss it tomorrow, I'll come for coffee again."

As I stood there, my heart was thumping. How the hell had I got into this position? The day went from bad to worse as Emma turned up the music once again. I was dreading Sarah coming home, I clung to the hope that Emma wouldn't say anything, at least until the next morning.

And so it transpired, Sarah didn't appear, and the evening passed without event. I didn't sleep very well, and was up, showered and dressed by eight 'o clock. I watched Sarah walk to her car looking exquisitely sexy in a dark suit with a tight pencil skirt. I wondered how she could have such a 'slight' daughter and such a manipulative one.

As I suspected I didn't have long to wait. There was no music, just a tap on the kitchen door.

I unlocked it and let her in, bouncy, bubbly, exuding mischief.

"Bet you didn't sleep?"

I watched her go directly to the fridge and take out a carton of orange juice, swigging several mouth fulls from it.

"No, I didn't," I replied.

With a chuckle she walked into the lounge and over to my desk. Opening my laptop she casually asked, "Watch any porn last night?"

"NO!" I said forcefully.

It felt ridiculous that this tiny, impish girl was now seemingly wandering around at will, with me almost at a loss as to what to do.

"Look Emma, this is crazy, are you going to tell your mum or not?"

At that moment my mobile rang and I turned my back, walking back into the kitchen. It was the garage making sure I was still bringing my car in for service the next day. Returning to see what Emma was up to, I put the phone down on a side table.

Like a small cat pouncing on its prey, Emma picked it up.

"You still fancy mum?" she asked.

I went to grab the phone back from her, but she was too quick, moving behind the sofa.

"EMMA! Give me that," I shouted loudly, "and no, I don't fancy her, I just... what are you doing... please give it here!"

Emma was typing rapidly, like youngsters do on their phones. Then from the other side of the sofa she held it up in front of me to show me.

'Do you fancy older guys?' she'd typed.

Before I could say anything she giggled and pressed the screen. The telltale 'whoosh' told me the message was sent. I knew it was to her mum.

"Fuck! now give it here."

Emma reached over and handed it back

"Jesus, you're such a fucking brat!"

I couldn't help myself, I was so angry. Then before any time had passed the phone rang. I almost dropped it in surprise, but it was Sarah.

"Jack... did you mean to send that text?"

My only excuse was to actually blame Emma and admit she was there.

"No, sorry Sarah, it was your lovely daughter messing about!"

I said it sarcastically.

"What's she doing with you?" adding, "the little mischief maker."

I had to think quickly, I'd seen her with a bike in the garden so I just said, "She came round wanting me to check her bike over."

"Hmmmm, sounds like one of her tricks, put her on to me."

I offered the phone to Emma and heard a 'yes' and a few 'no's' before the phone was passed back.

"Just send her packing Jack, otherwise she'll get up to no good, if she wants the bike looking at, I'll bring it round to you, now I've gotta get on, it's madness here."

I said goodbye, and looked at Emma still standing behind the sofa. I repeated what Sarah had said.

"Your mum said you should go."

She smiled, "But I don't want to, I like talking to you."

As she said it she leapt like a deer, up and over the sofa, landing sitting upright facing me.

In resignation I sat down in my chair at the desk wondering what my next move was. My phone pinged and I must have blushed as I read the text.

'And I do! 😉'

It was from Sarah, and Emma knew it.

"Oooh secret texts, what does it say?"

"Nothing," I said guiltily, this time locking my phone before I put it down.

"That means you are going to screw her!" she said triumphantly.

I decided to try reasoning.

"Look Emma, if me and your mum were to get together would that matter to you?"

For a moment she looked a bit puzzled, "No, but I might tell her about you smacking my ass, that would mess things up!"

Trying to keep calm I replied, "Yes, but why would you want to 'mess things up?"

"Because that's what I do."

I had no answer to that, and sat for a moment.

"You really are a brat!"

It brought a broad smile and Emma leapt up, "I love it when you call me that Mr Nicholls," then goading once again, she turned herself around and wiggled her backside towards me like before.

"Stop it Emma, you're not going to get me annoyed again."

"What if I tell mum that you did something really bad?"

I could see where this was going and it wasn't a good place. I was again reminded of not being left alone with young girls.

"Then it would be my word against yours, who would she believe?"

Even I wasn't sure, but I was trying to bluff my way out.

"I wonder," she replied, stepping backwards towards me, even closer this time, and bending over to wiggle her ass yet again.