by Rose St. Andrews
Mason Carter was frustrated. His new house, the luxury mansion he was building for his best client had been vandalized - again! No matter how well he locked things up and protected the site, those damn teenagers always found a way onto the property. He was seriously considering hiring an all-night security guard, despite the cost. For now, he focused on the immediate issue: cleaning up the paint splatters and broken drywall of the previous night. There were also the beer cans, liquor bottles and used condoms.
Oh well, at least they used protection.
By the close of day he and his team had gotten most of the remains done. As he felt certain more trouble would follow, he decided to camp out for the evening and guard the place himself. Time was short for him to get the work finished.
By two in the morning, he was running out of coffee, but a sudden thump coming from the garage got his attention and got his adrenaline pumping. Grabbing a flashlight, he raced there just in time to see three teens saunter in through the now broken side door. At the sight of his light, they dropped their beer and two of them bolted for the door. The third disappeared into the darkness.
"The cops are on the way, you little snots," Mason shouted. "You won't get far!"
Pausing at the door, he saw the two split up. They were too far away to bother with. A loud noise from the laundry room made him spin around. He grinned. The laundry room door to the outside was not only locked but also blocked by sheets of plywood. Dashing to the door, he found a welcoming sight - two legs and a pert rump nicely encased in blue jeans and hanging from a window. It seemed the third kid had used a crate to reach the window and then gotten stuck.
Mason picked up a stout and flat piece of wood, and stood next to the young miscreant. "So, trash my place will you."
Hillary was frustrated. First she'd taken a wrong turn when trying to get out of the 'funhouse' (as she and her cohorts called the place), and now she was stuck in a damn window. When she felt the tap, tap-tap of a very hard piece of wood to her defenseless ass, she trembled and squirmed.
"Now, hold on a sec, mister. Let me expla-ouch!" she yelped. "Shit, what is that thing, a hunk of steel? Ow!"
Her pleas and begging were for naught. The big lug swung that damn board like a big league batter, and her poor ass was the ball. If this was a real game of baseball, he'd have hit her out of the park. Well, her behind at least. Each swat of the board brought stars and tears to her eyes, and fire to her butt. Finally, after what had to be a good ten minutes, he tossed the board aside, heaved the window up, and helped her down.
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