Spying on a Spoiled Brat

While Olivia, who had dated guys but did not have a boyfriend at present, clearly had designs on Luke getting into her panties, poor Luke didn't know quite what to make of this. He was obviously flattered by the attention and taken by Olivia's good looks and fine teenage body, but he was very much aware he was working here and that this flirty little rich girl was my much younger sister-in-law with her father also my wife's father. Screwing around with his boss's family members probably wasn't a great thing to be doing, but if the teenagers had let their desires get the better of them snuck away for a quick fuck I would have turned a blind eye.

On the Thursday morning, Melbourne dawned bright and sunny. I kissed Vicki goodbye and headed out for my van when my phone rang. It was Barry, and he sounded terrible.

"Mate, I'm really sorry but I won't be able to come in today," he apologized with a croaky, congested voice. "It's this flu, my missus had it, our kids had it and my sister had it, now I've got it."

"It's not a problem mate, you sound really sick, best you rest," I assured Barry. He sounded more like he had the flu in 1918 rather than in 2019, and I definitely did not want to catch it.

I drove my van down to Brighton, admiring the early morning sunlight reflecting off the tall blue Rialto building, silver Eureka Tower, the distinctive black Melbourne Central skyscraper and the other tall Melbourne buildings in the CBD as I passed the city to the east, and also looked at the inviting blue waters of Port Phillip Bay as I arrived in bayside Melbourne.

When I reached Cliff and Simona's house, Luke pulled in a few seconds behind me. "Barry's sick with the flu, so it's just us today," I explained to my apprentice.

"He said he had a bit of a sore throat yesterday," said Luke. "I hope he feels better soon."

As Luke and I walked up the path to the front door of the mansion, we passed Rose, the live-in house keeper, a middle aged woman from the Philippines who was heading out for her day off, seemingly glad to be away from her employers if only for a few hours.

We rang the doorbell, and it was answered by Tatiana, the young woman wearing a white blouse and a pair of jeans so tight that they would have pushed her knickers so far up her vagina they would have ended up in her birth canal.

"Come in." Tatiana's greeting was devoid of any warmth, any welcome and her frosty expression showed this.

The rest of the family were in the living room, Cliff and Simona along with Tatiana's boyfriend Tyrone. Simona like Tatiana wore a white blouse and super tight jeans that her knickers and vaginas might have objected to if they had a say on the subject and their long brown hair loose on their shoulders, the mother and daughter often dressing and styling their hair similarly.

Tyrone was always a strange one, a chubby young man with red hair and little personality who mainly sat there and said nothing, probably because he could think of nothing to say. Tyrone and Tatiana always seemed an odd pair given the differences in looks, Tatiana a 10 and Tyrone a 2 at best, but maybe it was because Tyrone could be so easily controlled by Tatiana that was his appeal to her?

As for Cliff, he was well and truly showing his 74 years and looked much out of place with a hot 50-year-old wife who looked young for her age, a 22-year-old stepdaughter and an 18-year-old daughter.

"You're going out today, Cliff?" I asked my father-in-law conversationally.

"Yes, we are going out to the Mornington Peninsula for the day, and Cliff is really looking forward to it, aren't you Cliff?" asked Simona. Despite emigrating to Australia way back in 1991, the passage of 28 years had done nothing to reduce Simona's Romanian accent and she may as well have stepped off a plane from Bucharest the day before.

"Yes honey," Cliff agreed, staring vacantly out the window. Vicki and Bart often worried that their Dad was showing early signs of Alzheimer's, and the way he spaced out and stared like that did nothing to allay these concerns. But as long as the money was plentiful, the gravy train uninterrupted and their meal tickets remained, I don't think it bothered Simona, her daughters, nor hanger-on Tyrone.

Simona and Tatiana then engaged in a conversation in Romanian, of which nobody else understood one word. They often talked in their native tongue in front of others who could not speak Romanian, knowing that few people understood what they were discussing. Olivia could also speak Romanian, but was not as fluent as her mother and sister and did not use it as frequently.

However, Olivia was not in sight this morning, and I think Luke was relaxing, thinking maybe this Thursday would be one where he was not flirted with or teased by a girl who was clearly off limits. This was to be short-lived, and Olivia soon made her appearance when she realized the object of her affections had arrived.

Olivia was dressed in a flowery top that left her shoulders bare, and gave plenty of views of the valley of her C-cup breasts and her firm mid riff and naval. Olivia's skirt was also a matching floral design and short, so very short, barely covering her panties and showing her shapely legs, Olivia's feet also displayed by white strappy sandals. Unlike her mother and sister, whose hair was loose, Olivia's long brown hair was tied up in a high pony-tail this morning.

"Hi Luke," gushed Olivia. "How are you today?" The young girl adjusted her knickers through her skirt. Perhaps her undies were just uncomfortable, or perhaps it was a subconscious desire as to where she wished Luke to be?

"Oh hi Olivia, good thanks, how are you?" Luke asked, looking at the little flirt most uncertainly. It was obvious what the young man wanted to do, but obviously could not act on his desires.

"Hi Olivia," I said, giving my much younger sister-in-law a wave.

"Hi," said Olivia dismissively, her brown eyes regarding me like a peasant who had dared address a princess in her palace.

"We had better be going, are you sure you don't want to come Oliva?" Simona asked.

"No thanks Mum," said Olivia. "I'm good here." She hugged her father. "Bye Daddy."

"Have a nice day, Princess," Cliff said to the apple of his eye in response.

"Come along Cliff," said Simona, noticing that her husband was doing his space cadet thing and had not accompanied her, Tatiana and Tyrone.

Cliff as always followed his wife's instructions, and went out with Simona, Tatiana and Tyrone. As Luke and I went to get some ladders and other equipment, it was clear they were travelling in Tatiana's car, an expensive four wheel drive. Tatiana got into the driver's seat, Tyrone in the front seat and Simona and Cliff in the back and Tatiana backed down the driveway, before driving away up the street heading for the Nepean freeway that would take them to the Mornington Peninsula for the day.

Now it was just Olivia, Luke and I at the house and Luke and I began to get organized for the day's work. It was not a day where we would be doing much painting, most of it would be fiddly and time consuming prep work. Olivia hung around of course, flirting with Luke while I was pointedly ignored.

We had been going around 20 minutes or so, when Luke got a call on his mobile phone. "Hello," he said, and his face grew serious and concerned. "No Mum it's okay, calm down. When did they last see Grandma?"

Luke walked further away down the corridor, and I could hear from his conversation and see by his worried expression that his grandmother, who lived in Geelong had escaped from her nursing home and gone wandering off. If Vicki and Bart worried about their father showing early symptoms of Alzheimer's disease, then Luke's grandma was a clear example of what he would become like in a few years' time. She had done this a few times before she was placed in care Luke had said.

"Okay Mum, I'll just talk to my boss," said Luke, ending the call looking most stressed.

"Is everything okay Luke?" Olivia asked.

"My grandma again," said Luke. He turned to me. "Steve, as you probably heard my grandma's done a vanishing act in Geelong. Mum still can't drive after an operation a few weeks ago, Dad's in Sydney for work, my sister still hasn't got her license yet and the rest of the family aren't around ..."

"Luke, you need to help your family," I assured my apprentice. "Go and drive your Mum and sister down to Geelong."

Luke looked worried. "I don't want to leave you on your own today, I know we're busy ..."

Luke was one of the best apprentices I had ever had, and I knew that he was a good worker who would never lie to get out of work for the day. "Luke it's okay, go and help your Mum. I'll be fine here."

"Thanks Steve, and I'll be back tomorrow," said Luke.

"I hope your grandma is okay," I said as Luke hurried out to his car.

"Yes Luke, sorry about your grandmother, I hope everything is okay," said Olivia, who was standing a short distance away.

Luke drove away, and now it was just Olivia and I in the house together. I could see how disappointed she was that the good looking young man was gone for the day. I probably shouldn't have done so, but I could not resist asking her, "So Olivia, how about I get you a coat and you can help me with some of the prep work?"

Olivia's brown eyes gave me a look that was a combination of, "I'd rather die,", "How could you be so stupid as to ask me that?" and, "Go and fuck yourself, Steve."

Her phone was more interesting to Olivia than I was, and the girl began to mindlessly scroll through it. "Why don't you get the fat guy to help you?"

"Barry? He's sick today."

Olivia was completely zoned out now and absorbed in her phone. If a water buffalo appeared in the hallway in front of her, I doubt she would have noticed it. I decided to test the teenager. "Barry has cancer, he needed to have a chemotherapy session today at the hospital."

Olivia was completely oblivious. "That's nice," she said. The teen then looked at her nails both those on her fingers and her toes, which looked fine to me. "I need to get my nails done."

I considered pointing out to Olivia that the things she needed in life were food, water and shelter, but I doubt that the pampered teen would have paid any attention, and if she did it would have gone over her head.

"You have the spare keys?" she asked me as she collected her purse and car keys.

"Yes," I said. "Enjoy your morning, Olivia."

My sister-in-law said nothing more and simply walked away talking on her phone, clearly organizing a time at an expensive nail salon in Prahran. I looked out the window as Olivia reversed her small car with P plates displayed out of the driveway. Olivia's car was not a sports car or a luxury car, but was an expensive make and model nonetheless. Another pricey thing Daddy had purchased for his princess.

I tried to concentrate on my work. It was quiet and I was alone in the house so no distractions, but my mind was not on the job. I just kept thinking over and over about what a spoiled and self-absorbed brat Olivia was. While my comment about Barry having cancer was of course a lie, he was sick with the flu, that Olivia showed no reaction at all and was more interested in her phone was somewhat disturbing.

Mid-morning I knew I was becoming obsessed with Olivia and her pampered life, thinking about her over and over again and tried to think about other things, but I could not. Around 11 am, I took a break and did something I thought I would never do. I put down my tools and walking like a robot, went upstairs towards Olivia's bedroom. I knew what I was planning to do -- snooping around Olivia's bedroom -- was wrong, yet still I kept right on my path. It was like I was outside of my body watching myself.

Opening Olivia's bedroom door, I entered into pink walls and mainly pink décor. Olivia was definitely a girly girl that was for sure. I opened her walk in wardrobe, my eyes taking in the many designer and expensive brand clothes, shoes and bags. I had heard Olivia saying to my daughter that she had another whole bedroom to store more clothes, shoes and accessories, so this was just the tip of the iceberg of indulgence.

Olivia had all the modern technology I noted as I explored more, and she even had professional photos framed on her wall -- of herself. The word 'narcissist' flashed before my mind. There was nothing sexual in my exploration of Olivia's bedroom, it wasn't like I was rifling through her underwear drawer, just me getting more and more outraged about things the rich bitch had on tap.

I went into Olivia's ensuite bathroom, and found a bath tub, a shower, a vanity with a sink and closet, a toilet and next to the toilet was a bidet. A bidet! How many teenage girls had a personal bidet? There was nearly a full roll of toilet paper on the roll holder next to the toilet, and a spare roll on the cistern. I reached out and felt how soft and absorbent Olivia's loo paper was, triple-ply with a quilted cover. Opening the small closet under the sink, I immediately saw the other toilet rolls in their packet, and of course it was the most expensive brand of toilet tissue on the market. Heaven help it if Olivia had to wipe her pampered little bottom with anything but the best toilet paper.

My conscience was nagging me as I stepped out of the bathroom and back into Olivia's bedroom. Olivia may well have been a spoiled princess, but this was how she was raised by her parents. On the scale of bad people, I was far worse. I was a 43-year-old married man and the father of two teenagers who instead of doing work he was billing customers for was going into an 18-year-old girl's bedroom and prying into her personal things that were none of my business was far worse, a total invasion of her privacy even though there was no sexual motive for my voyeurism.

I was about to leave the bedroom and go back downstairs and have lunch, when a sound outside caused me to stop dead. My feelings of outrage and guilt were placed with a new one -- panic. The sound I heard was a young female voice -- Olivia's voice as she walked up the hallway. Shit! Time had flown by, she was back and now I was in a place I should not be -- her bedroom. I had no possible explanation for being in here, we weren't painting these bedrooms.

My heart pounding, I had to find a solution to my problem -- and fast. I looked at Olivia's bed, which had a fair bit of space underneath -- enough for a tall but slim middle-aged man to hide? I hoped so, as I frantically dived underneath the bed, concealing myself just in time as the bedroom door opened and Olivia entered her room then closing the door behind herself, me seeing her feet clad in white sandals.

It wasn't comfortable under the bed but I could fit, unlike Barry or Tatiana's boyfriend Tyrone neither of whom would have been able to fit under there at all. I reminded myself that I had nobody to blame but myself for being in this predicament, and hoped Olivia was just making a quick visit to her bedroom so I could sneak out again sooner than later.

Oliva walked over to her wardrobe, gossiping to one of her school friends on her phone as she did so, the girl's name Caitlyn. Olivia held in her hand a shopping bag from an expensive boutique in Prahran, the teenager taking a pink top out and putting it on one of the wardrobe shelves, then put her phone to face-time and on speaker and went and sat in a chair near her bed, kicking off her white sandals so she was now completely barefoot, her toenails and fingernails now sporting a new bright pink coating.

"So, is that really hot guy Luke still there?" I heard Caitlyn ask, her voice faint thanks to her being on a phone.

"No, could today be any worse?" the dramatic Olivia lamented. "He turned up, but there was a problem with his grandma in Geelong and he had to go. So now I'm stuck in the house with my boring older sister Vicki's even more boring husband Steve, you know the one who makes all those stupid jokes, and he's just about the world's biggest fuckhead."

"Charming," I thought to myself. I actually had no idea what a fuckhead was, what one looked like, did or said, but apparently I was the world's biggest one. But maybe in some bizarre way maybe Olivia was right. Only a fuckhead would go around snooping through teenage girls' bedrooms, then get stuck under the bed when she returned unexpectedly with no idea how he was going to get out.

"You want Luke to get into your knickers, Olivia," laughed Caitlyn.

"Yeah, and like you don't," laughed Olivia. She grimaced on her chair, and massaged her tummy. "But even if Luke was here, I couldn't let him get into my knickers unless he wanted a nasty surprise. My parents have got the painters in, and I've got the painters in too."

I went rigid under the bed. The expression 'having the painters in' was a slightly outdated expression for having a period, and more commonly used in England than Australia. It wasn't the sort of thing an 18-year-old Australian girl would frequently say, but regardless Olivia had said it so I now knew she was menstruating. Great, now I wouldn't be able to look at her the right way.

"You've still got menstrual cramps?" Caitlyn asked, seeing Olivia's discomfort.

"Yeah," said Olivia. She paused. "Actually Caitlyn, I'll have to call you back, I have to, well, you'll see."

Olivia pressed some buttons on her phone, and a few seconds later I heard Caitlyn exclaim, "Ew, gross, too much information Olivia, why would I want to know you need to have a period shit?"

I could see Olivia's phone screen as the girls giggled, and the two emoji's that Olivia had sent her friend, one a period emoji, the other a poop emoji.

"You don't want to stay and talk to me while I'm on the toilet?" Olivia asked.

"No, definitely not, you're on your own for that," Caitlyn assured her friend.

"I'll call you when I'm done in the bathroom," said Olivia, the teenager standing up but as she did so she accidentally farted, the sound echoing between the cheeks of her bum. She blushed and giggled, and I could hear Caitlyn giggling too.

"Olivia!" exclaimed Caitlyn.

"Sorry, excuse me, it slipped out, I couldn't hold it," laughed Olivia. "Blame it on my period. I'll call you back soon. As you heard by that, I really need to be sitting on the loo."

Olivia finished her call, but held her phone in one hand and her purse in the other as she walked to the bathroom on her bare feet. I had a bit of a problem; I could try and make my escape while Olivia was on the toilet, but even with her bathroom door closed would she hear me open her bedroom door?

Unfortunately for me, this issue proved moot. Olivia stepped into her ensuite bathroom and turned on the light and exhaust fan, but did not close the door behind herself. She left her bathroom door wide open, and made a beeline for the toilet, setting down the phone on the top of the toilet cistern and her bag on the vanity. With the door wide open, I had a grandstand view of the toilet, the bidet and the vanity and sink from under Olivia's bed. I told myself to look away, but something seemed to have gone wrong with my body and I was frozen and could not stop staring into the bathroom. It was like I was having an out of body experience, and I could feel and hear my heart racing in my chest.

In the bathroom, Olivia reached into her bag and she extricated a small pink box. I knew what the box contained even before the teenager reached inside and pulled out a tampon, me seeing the white cylindrical object wrapped in plastic in Olivia's nimble fingers.

Olivia placed her new tampon on the edge of the vanity for later, stood in front of the toilet then took a facial tissue from a box next to the sink. I watched with wide eyes as Olivia hitched up her short floral skirt, showing that underneath she was wearing white cotton bikini-style panties with pink and purple flowers on them. Olivia hooked her thumbs into the elastic waistband of her knickers, and pulled them down to her ankles.