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"I wonder what she's up to?" Ray mused as he noticed the young girl walk slowly passed the wall at the road end of his front garden for the fourth time. He called it a front garden but at the moment it was a waist high wilderness of grass and weeds; a wilderness he was trying to reduce to a manageable length using an old fashioned scythe hired locally. "When it's short enough, I'll use the ride-on rotary mower to keep it under control and eventually restore it to some semblance of a lawn," he told himself. "Why does she keep looking this way and then turns her head whenever I look at her? The other children have all gone by to catch the school bus. Is she playing truant?" The church clock, less than a hundred metres away in the compact little village, chimed nine.

Only three days previously he'd moved into the old, mid-nineteenth century, school building, and with sorting out the interior to make it reasonably habitable, this was the first morning he'd been able to work outside. The grounds hadn't been touched since the previous autumn and now in mid-May, everything had put on its springtime spurt of lush green growth. Grass, nettles, brambles and a host of sturdy weeds all competed for the available space. The previous owner, Jack Barham, had grandiose designs for the place but only completed the living quarters before ill health and death overcame him. Since then the windows had been boarded up to prevent vandalism that occasionally occurred even in this sleepy village, and for the last few days Ray opened all the available doors and windows to rid the place of a musty smell. On Jack's death he bequeathed the building to his two brothers and sister but the squabble between them over what to do with the place took months to settle before agreement was finally made to sell and, had the building not been a grade one listed property, developers would have snapped it up, however, access to the old school field behind the building which formed part of the property, was limited to the narrow driveway alongside. With the timber frame cottages on either side also listed, together with the church, they formed the historic core of the village. Because of the access problems and with restrictions from English Heritage as to what alterations could be made, he was able to purchase the property at a reasonable price. Money was not a problem. Royalties from his three best-sellers and selling the film rights to one of them, ensured Ray was financially well off for a thirty-one year old man.

However, his reason for wanting it was twofold; he needed a quiet place to write and he envisaged setting up a small gym where he could keep fit and overcome some of the unwanted side effects of long hours spent at his computer without having to go into town. It was something of a necessity as well as a hobby that helped him to relax and sometimes to overcome 'writers block'.

The picturesque building, with its knapped flint walls and tall, many paned, windows, had two front entrances with arched stone lintels and ornate strapped ironwork hinges fastened to green painted doors. Into the lintels were incised, "Boys' over the left hand one and 'Girls' over the right but nowadays the Boys entrance led to a cloakroom and the main hall and the Girls to the living accommodation. Between the road and the building lay about 30 metres of what was grass and, similarly, at the back, were another fifty metres of grass, which originally served as a playing field but his predecessor had converted some of it to a vegetable garden. All now looked wild and overgrown. It was the front 'lawn' that he now attacked with the scythe and having started nearer the school than the road, he could watch the girl's movements from behind almost a hedge of weeds.

Hesitating several times as though making up her mind what to do, she moved off only to return ten minutes later and, after peeking at him several more times, finally plucked up enough courage to enter the squeaky wrought-iron gate. Pausing for a few moments on the driveway, she gave a little startled cry when the gate sprung shut with a loud bang, and, on recovering, with uncertain steps continued slowly towards the man. Ray stopped working, leaned on the scythe handle and waited for her to approach.

"Good... morning... Sir," she stuttered in a whisper, "Mother told me... to come... and see if you wanted some help... if you could... could give me a job."

Now he could see her clearly, Ray recognised the girl as having been with her mother in front of him in the supermarket check-out queue the previous day. Probably he wouldn't have paid them much attention had not the mother continually berated the girl for her slowness in bagging the items and generally treating her like a five-year-old child. The mother, a large woman with an overbearing manner, never lifted a finger to help and he'd taken an instant dislike to her when, without a word of apology, she pushed his trolley back against his legs to give her a few inches more room at the PIN machine. At the time Ray felt a little sorry for the girl but never expected to meet her again. Now seeing her close-to, he realised that she was more of a young woman than a girl and being very short, about five feet, and thin, she could easily pass for a child. Again he felt sorry for her standing, almost cowering in fear a good three metres away from him. Clearly she was being forced to come and ask for work.

Indeed that was the case. Myra, the mother, stopped in the supermarket car park to speak with her friends Ethel and Rita, "That's the man who bought the old school," Ethel indicated Ray who was now loading his car, "He must have pots of money to afford to buy a place like that." "And it will need a fortune spent on it after it's been neglected for so long. No one seems to know much about him yet. Doesn't have a wife as far as we know." "Perhaps his manhood is as small as he is." Amid giggles the women gossiped and speculated on the new resident in the village. Meanwhile, the girl stood silently and waited but Myra's thoughts turned to the possibility of getting her hands on some of the man's wealth.

"Come closer girl so I can hear what you are saying and introduce yourself. Head up so I can see your face." Ray spoke in his usual calm, confident way. Reluctantly she took a few steps closer. Standing, she was not much shorter than his five feet three but her stooping posture made her appear much shorter. He noticed her rather drab, but workable clothes, her neck length straight hair and lack of make-up, all of which added to her very plain and ordinary appearance.

"I'm Mary Sir... Mary Stevens."

"Well good morning Mary Stevens, I'm Ray Shipton. What sort of work can you do?"

"I don't know Sir. Mother said..."

"What jobs have you had?" he interrupted. Tears started to spill from her eyes and he noticed a slight shaking in her body. "She seems terrified to come and speak to me and to ask for work. I guess that her bully of a mother is forcing her to get a job," he thought as he waited for a reply.

"I've had a few office jobs... and done some waitressing... worked in a records office... nothing lasted long. Mother said to..."

Intending to shock her and perhaps break her reserve a little, impishly he asked, "What would your mother say if I offered you a job warming my bed at night?" It had some of the desired effect but now she seemed ready to take flight. Indeed she nearly did.

Her face showed an expression of horror. "I couldn't do... that... Sir."

"I didn't offer you the job, I asked what your mother would say if I did."

For a second there was a hint of a smile. "I expect she would ask about the pay Sir."

Ray grinned at that; it indicated that there was some life behind the oppressed mind. "I'm more interested in what you say and what you can do. Could you cut this grass?" His hand swept a wide arc indicating the forest of weeds. Startled again, her eyes opened wide but before she could say no, he took hold of her hands and placed them on the scythe. "You hold it like this and swing it from the waist." Gently he moved her arms and body to get her into the swing. "Now you carry on." Flustered by the feel of his hands on her body as much as by the feel of the heavy tool, she didn't make a very good job of it but neither did he at first. At least she attempted it.

"I think I'd better carry on before someone loses their legs," Ray laughed, "You can rake the rubbish into heaps to dry."

It was with a sigh of relief, she asked, "Are you really giving me a job Sir?"

"Only if you stop calling me Sir and I find other things that you can do. Raking weeds or even grass won't keep you employed for long."

After half an hour Ray undid his shirt and pulled the tails from his trousers. Normally at this time of year he would wear shorts but with the rampant growth of nettles and brambles he decided on discretion to save his bare legs. Mary sweated profusely too. "You ought to take that woolly jumper off Mary," he suggested. Hesitantly she complied and in doing so lifted her blouse a little. What he saw shocked him. The small amount of flesh he glimpsed was badly bruised. "Surely these days, no one beats a girl like that. I bet it was that bitch mother." He didn't voice his thoughts to her but carried on working while his mind debated what to do. From what he'd seen at the supermarket, her mother was the prime suspect but maybe it was her father although she hadn't mentioned him yet. As was his style, he decided to confront her. "Time for a cuppa Mary. Let's go into the kitchen." While they sat drinking he tried to get her to talk about the jobs she'd done and her life at home but she was very reticent. Eventually she openly admitted that her shyness prevented her taking jobs where she had to interact with customers and didn't help her mix with other members of staff. From her remarks and from her submissive nature, Ray surmised he would get the best results by giving her clear direct orders. Definite, unequivocal orders like she received from her mother but he would deliver them in a quieter, kindly way."

"Stand up Mary please." Questioningly she did so. He walked behind her and suddenly pulled her blouse from her trousers. The bruising on her back was extensive and covered much of her back.

"NO!" she protested and started to struggle when he reached around and undid the top button, opened the trouser zip and pulled them down. Although her bottom remained covered by plain white cotton knickers, he saw the bruising extended well over her buttocks and down her thighs. She'd been spanked and spanked hard by what, he guessed, was a strap of some sort.

"Did your mother do this?" She nodded. "What did you do to deserve it?"

For a long while she refused to answer but with a little gentle prodding, finally she answered, "I said that I wouldn't come here and ask for a job."

"But that wasn't the only time, was it? Some of the bruises are older." He tried questioning her further but she clammed up and only relaxed when he said, "Well if I'm paying you, we'd better get back to work."

Working steadily, by midday they'd managed to get the front area cut and the weeds carted to a site at the back where he thought they could safely have a bonfire when the material dried a little more. By then it was obvious Mary was physically tired and both of them were soaked with sweat. Sweat soaked her blouse until it was almost transparent and the outline of the bra covering her small breasts, showed clearly. "She really could pass for a child, but I know from the little she's told me, that she is at least 22 years old," Ray mused. He was pleased with the way she stubbornly kept working even though it taxed her reserves of strength and he could see the fatigue in her body movements and guessed the physical movements of her body aggravated the bruising of her strapping. Most of the time they worked in near silence and he liked that too. Unlike a couple of his ex-girlfriends whose chatter irritated him and no doubt led to the break up of the relationships, Mary worked quietly and only spoke when she needed instructions or was asked a question.

"Lunchtime," Ray announced when he locked the tools into an outhouse that had once served as the girls lavatory, "You've done well today Mary. Thanks." Giving her a hug produced a startled cry and for a second she tried to pull away. Obviously she wasn't used to receiving praise or any sign of affection. "We'll have a shower and then make some sandwiches." Again the look of conflict and apprehension, but trying to forestall any objections, he went on, "You can wear one of my karate robes while we wash what you're wearing. They'll dry in no time in this heat. I guess you didn't expect to start work immediately and I wasn't anticipating getting any help."

Jack Barham, was a large man and grossly overweight, hence the shower cubicle he installed was large too. "Put your dirty clothes in the basket and I'll set the machine going while we shower." Ray already liked the girl well enough to want to see if her sexuality was as repressed as her shyness suggested and decided to put it to the test.

"No... no... You don't mean... I can't do that, not with you... I'd better go..." The thought of showering with a man, being naked with a man in the confines of a shower cubicle, filled her with fear. Ray pressed the issue.

"What? Go home and get another hiding for losing the job you've only had for a couple of hours? Showering with me will not hurt you and you will not be raped, that I promise you. You might even find it a pleasant experience. Now remove those sweaty clothes." His voice gave the command quietly and forcibly and in a tone indicating he expected her to obey. Still she hesitated. "Do it!" he barked. This time she followed his order and, blushing profusely, took off her blouse. With a strange admixture of anticipation and dread, Mary watched as Ray removed his shirt and tossed it into the basket but she turned away, embarrassed, when he lowered his trousers and underwear. "Now the bra and knickers, you don't normally shower with them on do you?" Blushing furiously and trembling at the thought of him seeing her naked, her fingers fumbled ineffectually with the clasp, Ray quickly came to her aid and unsnapped the hooks and threw her bra in the basket. Still blushing and facing away from him, her knickers followed and for a few moments she tried ineffectually to hide her breasts and sex with her arms and hands. The full extent of the bruising her body now revealed appalled Ray, but for the moment he didn't remark on it. "Good girl," he praised her and gave her another hug and felt her shiver when their naked bodies touched. He couldn't tell if it was excitement or fear.

Mary's mind though was in turmoil. For the first time in her life she saw an adult man's prick and wondered what it would feel like inside her. Set against that was the fear he would have intercourse with her and perhaps make her pregnant. He said she would not be raped but could she believe someone she'd known for only a few hours? "How did I get into a situation where I am naked with a man I met such a short time ago?" she asked herself but she knew well enough that it was the fear of another beating from her mother that stopped her running away. So far at least, with him she hadn't been hurt.

"Use the loo if you need to. I'll take these down and start the machine going and then we can wash the filth off our bodies." She was still on the loo when he returned but pretending not to notice, Ray set the shower going. Fortunately the shower room was large enough not to need doors so when she stood up he motioned her inside, and, knowing she was fearful as to what might happen to her in the next few minutes especially as his prick was beginning to rise, in an effort to reassure her, he spoke quietly. "Mary, I know this nudity is all very new to you and especially as we're strangers alone together in the shower but nothing will happen to you except that we will wash each other and afterwards I will put witch hazel on those welts. I will play with you a little but I won't do anything that will hurt. Just try and relax and enjoy being with a man for the first time." His words did little to ease her worries and she had no idea what he meant about playing with her. To emphasise this was to be considered a fairly normal situation, Ray took a flannel from the hook, added shower gel and proceeded to carefully wash her back and in doing so, noticed areas where her clothing had chafed the welted skin. "I'll put some salve on the places that have been rubbed raw and witch hazel on the bruises. That should ease the soreness a little and make it a bit more comfortable for you," he told her.

Some of her confidence slowly appeared to return but she still tried to resist when he started on her front. The nipples on her very small breasts, half tennis balls at best and certainly not needing a bra for support, hardened when Ray washed them a little more than necessary and tweaked them between his thumb and forefinger. "Is this what he means by playing with me?" she wondered. Ray too, wondered what she was thinking, but she just stood still and only opened her legs a few inches when he washed her mound and tried to rub her clit. Ignoring her lack of cooperation, he handed her the flannel to wash his back. "Pretend you're a nurse giving a patient a bed bath," he told her and when finally she did his front and got to his prick, it pleased him that she actually lightly took hold of the shaft and washed it.

"Before you put my robe on, I'm going to photograph those marks on your back," Ray said when they'd dried each other.

"No! Please no. I'll get worse if she finds out. I daren't go to the police or anyone."

"Mary, we'll talk about that over lunch but I am getting my camera and I am taking some pictures so that we have a record of what has been done to you. It will record the date and time so if necessary we can use them as evidence." Eventually she allowed him to take several but for the moment he was at a loss as to how to use them to safeguard her from future punishments.

"Why daren't you go to the authorities?" They sat in the kitchen eating.

"I'd get thrown out and I've no money... and no friends... and... no where to go and..." She broke down into tears.

"Come with me Mary." Ray put his arm around her shoulders and led her upstairs. "There are four bedrooms in this place, one is mine, another is to be my workroom and office as soon as I get an Internet connection run into it from downstairs, so that leaves two for guests. If ever there is a problem at home, one of them can be yours and you can pay for it by working here."

"I won't have to sleep with you?"

"Not unless you want to but at some point, I hope you will. As you can see, neither room is set out yet, as I didn't expect any guests for the time being. This is probably the best one and the only one with a bed in at the moment but we can soon swap it around." The double bed had a mattress but no bedclothes, a wardrobe stood askew in one corner and a nightstand in another. Cardboard boxes littered the floor. "Sorry, I've not started on sorting out the guestrooms but if you need a place to stay, we'll put it to rights, or at least make it liveable, in no time. There's bedding in one of the boxes."

"Thank you Ray. It is most kind of you to offer and the room is far bigger than mine but, if you don't mind, I'll stay where I am for the time being." Despite his assurances to the contrary, she remained very concerned as to whether warming his bed would be part of the rent.

"That's okay. Just as long as you know the room is available. You couldn't stay with your father?"

"He lives over a hundred miles away and remarried and now has two other girls so they don't really have room for me. The girls have to double up in one bed when I visit so I only get to see daddy at most, twice a year."

For the rest of the afternoon, they sorted more of his stuff inside the house and began arranging furniture in the lounge. "What are you like at decorating?" Ray asked at one point.

"I've never done any."

"Well, you'll soon learn."

"Done any computer work?"

"Yes. I took computer studies at school and daddy gave me a redundant laptop from his work a year or so ago but mother won't allow me access to the web. She has a computer she uses to email her friends and for online shopping but she doesn't really understand them and only has a dial-up service. I've often had to sort out problems on it for her. One of the jobs I worked on for the longest time, involved transferring paper records to digital, but the money for that project ran out and I was made redundant. That was a job that suited me. I had a tiny office and worked largely on my own." It pleased Ray that she'd actually started talking to him with more than a few stuttered words.

"Did you really mean it yesterday when you said I could have a room here?" Ray found her standing by the back door of the school, tears running down her face, when he returned from a short shopping trip. He'd arranged for her to start at ten o'clock and he'd arrived a few minutes late but she'd been there since nine. Alongside lay a shopping bag with a few items including her laptop.

"Of course, I did. More trouble at home?" Mary just nodded and followed him inside. "Another beating?" Again a nod. "What for this time?"

"When I got home, I was very tired. I guess I'm not used to hard physical work, and instead of doing the housework I was supposed to while she was round her friend's house, I fell asleep in the chair and only woke when she shook me to the floor. She called me a lazy slut and other things and dragged me over the arm of the chair and used the strap on me again."

"The bitch, the bloody bitch. She sends you out to work and then expects you to work at home. She's nothing but a bully and I hate bullies. Like you, I was small for my age and as a child I was picked on. Fortunately my father noticed and forced me to enrol in self-defence classes and soon I gained enough confidence to throw my bigger tormentors. The bullying more or less stopped after that and I learned to stand up for myself and you must too. Now lets see what damage she's done this time and I'm going to record it again."

"The only work you're going to do here today is to sort your bedroom out," Ray declared when he saw the strapping had been concentrated on the lower buttocks and the back of the thighs making it painful to walk." Fear again showed in her eyes when Ray laid her face down on his bed but quickly that turned to little moans of pleasures as he applied a salve to her welts and allowed his fingers to stray to her slit. Nothing was said but Ray knew she'd enjoyed what he'd done. "I suppose this is his idea of playing with me again and if I'm going to her here with him, I suppose I ought to let him. Feels nice anyway and different to when I do it." Mary thought and, glimpsing him move his prick into a more comfortable position in his shorts, she knew her body was having an effect on him too. Almost imperceptibly she moved her legs apart, giving him better access to her clit. Soon her juices were flowing freely and she wondered what it would be like if she let him make love to her. "Will he consider me a slut? Will he want me to stay afterwards? Or does he want to take my virginity and then throw me out so he can get a more attractive girl to take my place? Still it does feel nice." These and other thoughts ran through her mind as slowly she succumbed to the delightful sensations he produced in her body. Eventually an orgasm overwhelmed her and with a little cry she lay still and only then did a feeling of embarrassment sweep over her. She blushed and stuttered an apology for her behaviour, hoping and praying that Ray would not think ill of her but he smiled, gave her a hug and a kiss and suggested she just wear a robe for the time being.

The kiss, although only a brief touching of the lips, again brought sensations to Mary she hadn't experienced before and left her mind in a whirl. "Does he love me? Or is it that he just wants to fuck me? We only met yesterday so how can it be love?"

For most of the morning, they cleared the second spare bedroom and set up a bed in there. "We'll decorate your bedroom while it is still fairly empty and put a carpet down, and then you can move in properly. It will give you a chance to try out your painting skills. What colour would you like for the walls?" Being given choices was not something Mary was used to and she shook her head. "Okay, we can choose when we get to the store. What about your stuff at home? Can we fetch it in the car? Will your mother be there?"

"Not this afternoon. She leaves about two and goes to a bridge club meeting. We could go then. I have a key because I am supposed to cook dinner for when she gets in about five-thirty."

"Does she know you've run away?"

"I don't think so. I said I had to go to work when I left this morning and I wasn't sure if you'd really let me stay. I told her the laptop was to catalogue items until you'd set up your computer and she seemed to believe me." Tears flowed down her face. "This has been so overwhelming and I'm not certain how long I can stay or what you'll want in return. Nothing is free and everything eventually has a price."

"At least she's speaking her real thoughts now. That's a good sign," Ray thought. Aloud he said, "The room is yours for as long as you want it. That's a promise. The job is yours too but I guess it will be better if we work out a weekly wage instead of an hourly rate. As to the price? Mary, you know that I'm attracted to you, more attracted in the short time since we met than any other girl I've known, and I'm hoping that some day, some time, you will decide to sleep with me but that isn't part of the rent. That is something that will only happen if you want it to. Of course, I will try and seduce you, but I won't force you."

Somewhat reassured, she helped him as much as she could, perhaps more that she ought to have done because of the pain in her bottom and legs. By lunch time things were more or less sorted and he'd started to set up his computer in the 'office'. One of the things he'd bought earlier was a wireless router and Mary proved she had more knowledge of computers than he supposed when she helped him set it up and then set her laptop to access it too.

"Are you doing a runner Mary?"

"Yes Mrs. Thompson, I'm leaving."

"I don't blame you. Fred and me we heard you crying out last night and the night afore and we wondered why you stuck it for so long. I'll give Fred a call and we'll help you carry things to the car." Mary's elderly neighbours were a kindly couple but didn't want to get involved with the things going on next door, especially with that bitchy Mrs. Stevens. With four of them helping, Mary's room was quickly stripped of her few belongings and in no time they were bagged and boxed and stacked in the car. Less than an hour later they were on the way back to her new home and a life she knew would be very different to anything she had known previously.

"Ray would you mind if I email daddy and let him know where I am? I could only contact him from the library in town before."

"This is your home now Mary, you don't have to ask my permission to do things like that. Feel free to use the phone, write letters and send emails. I don't need to know and I'm certain I can trust you not to abuse them." After having almost everything she did supervised or even censored by her mother, the concept of being free to do things when and how she liked was a strange one for her, one that would take time to get used to.

Ray busied himself getting the meat ready for the oven and was surprised when she returned five minutes later with tears streaming down her face. "What's the matter?' he asked.

"Nothing really," she wept as she grasped him in a tight hug, "I don't know whether to be happy to be here and away from mother or fearful of what lies ahead with you." Picking her up, he carried her to a couch in the lounge.

"If you're worried that I will beat you, forget it. There's no way I would hit you. If you're concerned that I will rape you, again forget it. However, I will say this. You're an attractive young woman, not too much younger than me, not a glamour puss but, as I've said before, one that I would love to take to my bed and make love to. I shan't force you but from your response when I put the salve on this morning, it might not be too long before you want that as well. I guess that you're not on any form of birth control and at this stage you'll not want to become pregnant but in my bedside table I have a box of condoms with nine left and I can easily buy more although it might be better if you considered going on the pill, not because you feel you have to give yourself to me, but more because making love is often a spontaneous thing and we don't want to be caught out. The decision is yours. Let me know if want me to take you to the clinic in town or you can get the bus and go on your own." Mary again was half afraid to make a decision and in many ways would have preferred to be given a direct instruction.