LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Halo Adjustment Services
John stretched aching shoulders, clasping his hands together and pushing them over his head. He knew he was damp with sweat. He could feel his t-shirt plastered to his back as he paused in his work. Hopefully, this was the last time in his life he would be moving. He'd been hauling his stuff into the old Victorian mansion he'd inherited from his grandmother for most of the day.

There was a big office, to the right inside the front door. He intended to run his business from there. He'd already had a post installed next to the mailbox where he could hang his shingle. He definitely wasn't ready to work yet, but he was anxious to get his business sign in place. He actually researched the area and knew there was no one who provided what he did. John was extremely fit for his 40 years and he was getting a thrill knowing someone was watching him intently from the house next door. Flexing again, he turned and went into the house.

Ida watched as the young man who had been lifting and carrying heavy looking boxes and bulky pieces of furniture all day, stretched like a lithe cat, tight muscles and wide shoulders. She might be 85, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate a fine man when she saw one. It must be her friend Hetty's grandson. She hadn't seen him around in quite a few years. Certainly not since Jill had moved in with her.

"Have you seen whoever's moving in, Grandma?" Jill asked, as she walked into the kitchen.

"No, not really," Ida lied.

"I wonder what he does? Is he very old, do ya think?"

"I'm sure we'll find out sooner or later. Maybe you should make some cookies."

Now, her grandmother KNEW Jilly hated to bake. Hell, she rather knit him a god damn sweater than bake cookies. And she didn't know how to knit either. But Jillian also knew that her grandmother expected her to do it anyway.

Ever since Jillian's divorce, when she hadn't had anywhere else to live or any way to pay the ridiculously large amounts of money it took to support yourself these days, she had lived with her grandmother.

So, at 35, Jilly was no longer subjected to the tyranny known as husband. Instead she was at the beck and call of a tornado named Grandmother.

Jilly tied an apron over her sundress, and resigned herself to her fate. Despite what her grandmother thought, she had made chocolate chip cookies a couple of times. After all they had been Harry's favorite, back when she had actually given a shit what he liked. He had driven all thoughts of wanting to please him completely away, when whatever she tried was always wrong, poorly done, or just plain stupid.