[MasterBilly]

Gardener/Handyman Wanted
Leaving school was easy, the hard bit was trying to get a job. I never really excelled in anything at school, so I did not exactly have a stack of GCSE’s under my belt. Life was tough at home, dad had long since done a runner and mum either couldn’t or wouldn’t work. So there wasn’t a lot of money to throw around and all the local job opportunities were aimed at people with experience. As a 16 year old virgin with no money and fewer friends life seemed pretty bleak, but that life was about to change by a chance visit to a local newsagent. The note in the window read:

GARDENER/HANDYMAN
WANTED

ENTHUSIASM MORE IMPORTANT
THAN EXPERIENCE
REASONABLE RATES OF PAY
TEL 01234 567890



It was a couple of miles from home, on the edge of a fairly wealthy area, being borderline desperate and with nothing to lose I duly noted the number and that afternoon I gave it a call.

The phone was answered by an obviously refined lady who, after a brief discussion, invited me to an interview the following Monday at 9 am.

The interview went well, Mrs Jordan lived in a large house on a posh estate and was a ‘city widow’, she saw her husband for an hour each evening before bed and at weekends, the work involved mainly gardening or weeding and any general cleaning jobs that she needed doing, the pay was not brilliant, but was as much as I could expect as a 16 year old school leaver. She seemed particularly interested in my girlfriends and my experience with girls. I had none but obviously could not admit it. I stumbled through the question claiming that I had a bit of experience but not much and was currently between girlfriends.

“How much experience,” she asked.

“Oh the usual,” I replied going red.

She smiled at me with raised eyebrows and the conversation stopped as I went brighter red and shrivelled up in my seat. Eventually and to my relief she moved onto another subject.

I was offered the job on a temporary basis, to start immediately and cash in hand. Mrs Jordan led me into a spare downstairs room and told me to change into shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops so that I didn’t dirty my own clothes.

My first job was some general tidying in the garden and after about an hour I sat down with Mrs Jordan for a cup of tea and a chat. I say a chat, I did very little talking, mainly ‘yes’ and ‘no’, but she did seem to want to talk about sex a lot, which I found strange.

After my tea break I went back to work until dinner time, we had chicken sandwiches and I noticed that the bread was a lot nicer than we had at home, Mrs Jordan talked more and more about herself and sex in general. By now the sun had come out so after dinner I was tasked with weeding the garden whilst my boss lay on a sun bed, sunbathing in the middle of the lawn. She came out wearing a red bikini, but very quickly the top came off as she lay there soaking up the rays.

I tried concentrating on the weeding but it was difficult, I was trying to garden only feet away from an attractive woman wearing nothing but a skimpy red bikini bottom, my erection was massive. She was about 27 or 28, her husband was about 10 years older and was a big shot in the city. I could believe it, this was a 6 bedroomed detached house with a large secluded garden. A Mercedes Benz and a BMW were both parked on the drive and the inside of the house just stank of money.

“Ahem,” I heard a slight cough from behind me, I looked around at Mrs Jordan. “Tony dear, would you be a saint and rub some sun cream on my back for me?” she smiled and rolled onto her front.

I got up and self consciously made my way towards her. I was wearing cheap baggy boxers and a pair of baggy shorts. I wasn’t exactly ‘tenting’ but there was a clear bulge in front of me. Lingering slowly I rubbed the cream into her back, enjoying every second, this was as intimate as I had ever been with a female. I stopped when I felt that I could not spend any more time without being labelled a pervert and watched as she pushed her red waistband down slightly revealing about an inch of the crack of her bum.

“Just rub a little more cream on that bit please, I hate an obvious bikini line.”

‘Wow’ I thought to myself ‘this really is not happening’ as I covered the area required with more cream.

“Why don’t you join me on the other sunbed, you’ve been working too hard today,” Mrs Jordan said after I had finished.

“Er no,” I stumbled, confused.”Er ... I’m here to garden ... if your husband ... I mean ...” I got up and started to make my way back to the gardening.

“Stop,” she looked at me from her side on position, this was the first time that she had spoken sharply to me all day.

“I’m paying your wages so you will do as I say, my husband will not be back until 9 O’clock tonight, I enjoy your company so take your top off, lie on the next sunbed and sunbathe,” she scolded.

Not really knowing how to get out of this possibly embarrassing situation I hesitated before removing my top, stepping out of my flip-flops and laying down on the next sunbed. Mrs Jordan told me to put some suncream on, which I did and then laid back and tried to relax. After about 15 minutes I started to enjoy my new job, to think that I was actually getting paid for this, when Mrs Jordan started talking again.

“So when did you actually finish with your last girlfriend then Tony?”

“Er ... erm ... er ... about ... about 3 months ago,” I lied.

“So you’ve gone 3 months without sex?”

“Er ... yes Mrs Jordan,” I felt uncomfortable calling her Mrs Jordan in this environment, but she had not said that I could use her Christian name, I did not even know what it was. To be honest, despite her being overfriendly towards me I think that she enjoyed watching me squirm a little as I addressed her as Mrs Jordan.

“So you have had no casual relationships in the last 3 months,” she enquired.

“No.”

“Oh, you poor boy, that’s without any form of sex whatsoever, oral or vaginal.”

“Yes Mrs Jordan.”

“You have had oral sex then?” she asked.

“Er ...,” I thought about lying but decided to come clean. “No, Mrs Jordan.”

“You poor boy, 16 years old and you’ve never had a blow job.”

She got up and knelt down beside my sunbed, her boobs looked beautiful, especially her nipples; my cock was rock solid, she placed her hand on my bared lower leg.

“Would you like a blow job now?” she asked softly.

I might have been sexually naive, backward you might say. But even I couldn’t get this question wrong.

I nodded my head. “Yes,” I whispered, before remembering my manners. “Please.”

She smiled at me before unfastening my shorts and tugging them to mid thigh. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of my red and white stripped boxers and started pulling those down as well, my bottom naturally raised itself to assist her. She took hold of my erect knob and kissed the end, before looking me in the eyes and smiling. Opening her mouth she went about half way down before sucking her way back up.

I was overjoyed, at last it had happened; at long, long last my sex life had started. Alright it wasn’t vaginal sex, but it was a blow job and it was happening to me!

It was wonderful, she was sucking so hard, I didn’t know it then but my cock was in the mouth of an expert, her teeth combined with her saliva were doing magical things, especially around the tip. Wanking usually took me about 5 or 6 minutes, but Mrs Jordan’s mouth had me cumming in less than half that time. She sucked every last drop out of me before yanking my pants and shorts off my legs, picking up my t-shirt she marched off to the house with her mouth closed.

So she wanted me naked did she, well after what I had been through that was fair enough. I lay there enjoying the sun, contemplating life, staring at Mrs Jordan’s bikini top. I picked it up and inspected it, suddenly feeling like a pervert I quickly put it back down, looking around nobody had seen me.

Presently Mrs Jordan came out with a tray of two cups of coffee and some biscuits, still topless she placed it on the patio table, came across to me and disappointingly put her bikini top back on and invited me to join her for coffee on the patio.

“Er, can I have my shorts back,” I asked.

She raised her eyebrows and starred at me with a half smile.

“Please,” I asked again.

“Come on Tony, coffee,” she ruffled my hair and walked towards the patio.

I looked at the flip-flops, thought about putting them on and the decided that it would be pointless and made my way across to the patio.

Feeling completely self-conscious I sat there naked, listening to Mrs Jordan ramble on. I kept making furtive glances towards the house, wondering where exactly my clothes were, I wanted to ask but didn’t. Mrs Jordan was obviously getting some sick pleasure out of having an embarrassed naked boy in her garden.

She kept talking until the coffee was finished and then she got up, stretched off her legs, picked up the tray and turned to me.

“I’m just going to tidy this lot up Tony, I’d like you to go back to gardening please.”

“I’ll need some clothes,” I said trying to sound forceful.

“No Tony,” she replied shaking her head and smiling. “Naked is good.”

“No!” I said emphatically, enough was enough. “I am not going to do anymore work for you without clothes. You must give me my clothes back now.” I felt that I had good reason to get angry, okay she was my boss, she had given me extended tea and lunch breaks, allowed me to sit around on the lounger, not to mention the trifling matter of a blow job. But forcing me to work naked was still a form of sexual abuse.

Disappointingly Mrs Jordan did not seem to take my anger seriously, she simply raised her eyebrows and smiled at me.

“Mrs Jordan give me my clothes back now,” I said standing up and raising my voice.

Her eyes dropped to my cock, eyebrows still raised, smile still on her face, I moved my hands in front of me, blocking her view.

“Tony go back to gardening now,” she said quietly.

“No Mrs Jordan, I will not do any more work for you until you return my clothes.” I was nearly shouting now, anybody in the nearby gardens must have heard, but I didn’t ever have to come back here, if the neighbours knew that there was a naked boy in Mrs Jordan’s garden then it surely must be more embarrassing for her.

“Really,” she replied. “So how do you intend to get home without any clothing?”

She had a point, there was no way that I could run 2 miles home stark naked. I realised that I had overplayed my aggressive stance, she really could leave me naked in her garden for as long as she wanted. I tried another approach.

“Please,” I asked calmly.

“Put your hands on your head Tony,” she instructed.

I did as I was told and she studied my nether regions for a short while.

“Would you like another blow job this afternoon Tony?” she asked. Silly question, it may be wrong to make me work naked, but I was not going to refuse another blow job was I.

“Yes,” I replied softly.

“Then return to your gardening,” she told me before walking back to the house with the tray.

With the depressing feeling that comes with losing an argument I turned and walked naked back to the flowerbed and returned to my weeding, trying to console myself that I had been promised another blow job. It is the way the human brain works I suppose, but after a short while I had convinced myself that my stance had forced Mrs Jordan to either return my clothes or give me another blow job, she could not return my clothes because she would lose face, her only way out was to agree to give me another blow job. In other words I had forced Mrs Jordan into giving me another blow job; well maybe, at least that train of thought made me feel better. It was about 4:30 when I was told to tidy up and then come into the house for a shower. The Jordan’s had a big house and actually had a shower downstairs, next to their utility room; there was, however, no towel to dry myself.

“You go ahead and take your shower, I will go and fetch a bath towel from upstairs,” Mrs Jordan informed me. Again I had nothing to protect my modesty and I noticed that there was no lock on the door to the shower room, Mrs Jordan or anybody else for that matter could just walk in and see me naked. It seemed to be a recurring theme in working for Mrs Jordan. I showered off and dripping wet cracked the door open slightly.

“Mrs Jordan I’ve finished, could you bring me the towel please,” I called out.

“It’s here in the parlour, I’m a little busy could you come and get it yourself.”

“I’m dripping wet, I’ll get water on all your carpets,” I replied, desperate not to have to do a streak though her house.

“It doesn’t matter, they will soon dry,” she answered.

So she wanted me to parade naked around her house did she. With a sigh I opened the door and walked towards where her voice had come from, avoiding the temptation to run, trying not to give the impression that I was totally humiliated.

Predictably she wasn’t busy at all, when I found her she was just sitting down with a large towel draped over the side of her armchair.

“Stand there with your legs apart and I will dry you off,” indicating a spot just in front of her.

Hell fire this woman really was a pervert, I knew that there was no point in arguing, so I did as she wanted. She did dry me off as well, starting with my head she worked her way down my body, she even dried under my foreskin, though she didn’t spend any more time down there than she needed to. When she had finished she sat back down with her knees very much together, patted her lap and spoke.

“Right Tony, bend over my knees,” she commanded.

“Why?” I asked, suspiciously.

“Because I told you to, now do it,” she growled sternly.

With a shrug and knowing that I was unlikely to win any argument with Mrs Jordan I bent over her knee displaying my fresh bottom to her. She took hold of my right arm forcing it up my back.

“Right, don’t you dare move a muscle young man or I will rip your arm right off,” she shouted at me, putting the fear of God into me.

With that she proceeded to spank my bottom, a 16 year old teenager and I was being spanked like a young child! For what? I hadn’t actually done anything wrong. In fairness the spanking didn’t really hurt, it was light, the humiliation was the worst. Though when I got up I did feel a rosy glow about my face, more than on my bum. I also had a semi, it was strange, impossible to describe, but this attractive woman had spanked my bare bottom and I think that I actually enjoyed it.

“That was for arguing with me when I told you to garden naked Tony. From now on if you are going to work for me you are to do what I say, when I say it, no questions asked, do you understand?”

“Yes Mrs Jordan.”

With that she knelt before me and put my semi erect cock in her mouth, true to her word she gave me another blow job. Daringly I put my hand on her head and stroked her, looking up she seemed to smile with her eyes before returning to the job in hand, or job in mouth.

I lasted a little longer this time, but again when I blew my load into her mouth she sucked every drop out of me before disappearing to the kitchen, presumably to spit it out.

Returning she sat down on the sofa and invited me to sit next to her, as I did she placed her hand on my knee.

“How many times have you really had sex Tony, honestly?” she asked me.

I looked at my feet shyly, biting my bottom lip I looked at Mrs Jordan before speaking.

“None,” I whispered.

“So you are a virgin?” she asked in confirmation.

“Yes,” whispering again.

“Yes what?” she asked sternly demanding an answer.

“Yes I am,” I replied looking down at my feet.

“Yes you are what?” her voice demanded.

“Yes I am a ..... a vir ..... yes I am a virgin,” I stuttered looking her in the eye again with tears of humiliation starting to form in the corner of my own eyes.

She reached across and cradled my scrotum. “Tony dear there is nothing wrong with being a virgin, we were all virgins once, by the end of this week I intend to claim your virginity, is that okay?”

“Yes Mrs Jordan,” I murmured.

“And if you carry on working for me this summer I will see if I can get a couple of girls more your own age for you to fuck. Would you like that?” Mrs Jordan had a very refined accent, but when she said ‘fuck’ it sounded really dirty. I could feel my eyes sparkling as I replied.

“Yes Mrs Jordan.”

“Good boy, now here are you wages for today, now go home and I will see you at 9 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning, do not be late Tony, I will not tolerate tardiness,” with that she let go of my scrotum, handed me £65 in cash before leading me out of the room towards the front door, I began to panic.

“Er, Mrs Jordan please can I have some clothes to walk home, please?”

“It’s alright Tony, your clothes are in the porch,” she replied laughing, holding the door open for me she deliberately watched me as I got dressed into my own clothes that I had arrived in that morning. I finished tying my shoelaces, nodded a quick goodbye to my new boss and grabbed the outside door handle to leave.

“Just one last thing Tony,” I turned and faced her. “Remember from now on I expect you to obey my exact word instantly and without question, there was far too much backchat from you today, I don’t want to have to smack your bottom, but I am prepared to and can do it a lot harder. You are to obey my every word instantly and without question, is that clear?”

“Yes Mrs Jordan,” I replied before heading out into the street. That evening I thought a lot, had I been abused? Well yes I had, being made to work naked in her garden was abuse, alright, there were mitigating circumstances, but she still took all my clothes, hid them and told me, as my employer, that I had to work naked in her garden, that was sexual abuse! Before giving me my clothes back she told me to bend over her knee, she smacked my bottom and told me it was a punishment, that was sexual abuse! Alright, it wasn’t very hard and it did give me a semi, but that is not the point, it was sexual abuse.

That said, was I going to do anything; if I did then I would have to do it now. I could hardly work naked in her house for 3 weeks when I was being paid cash-in-hand every day and happily going back the day after, and the day after that; then suddenly complain of abuse after 3 weeks. I would be laughed out of court. I looked at the £65 at the side of my bed, I thought about Mrs Jordan’s promise to let me shag her this week and the promise to shag other girls in the future. No, I convinced myself, being made to garden naked was not really sexual abuse, it was just a bit of adult fun that was all, I was becoming an adult now. I thought more about Mrs Jordan making me work naked in her garden, I was getting another semi just thinking about it.