I was sitting at the computer in my home office when there was this sharp little ping against the window. House window. Not computer window. I just blinked, looked at the window, didn't notice anything and ignored it.
Then there was another little ping and the window rattled slightly. I looked closer and there was still nothing. I watched the window for a while and nothing. I just shrugged and was turning back to my desk when it happened again. This time I saw something bounce off the window and fall. It was only something small, but it had hit the window fairly hard.
Curious I went outside to look around. Now the side fence on my place was the back fence on the house next door, which was a corner block. Lined up in a row on top of that fence were half a dozen lemons. Even as I was observing this strange sight there was a popping sound and a lemon fell off the fence. There was also a muted cheer from next door.
Strolling over towards the fence I heard another pop and a ping off my window. It seemed to me I had found cause and effect. I strolled over to the fence, not next to the lemons, and hopped up onto the middle rail.
Standing in the middle of the yard was Julie. She was a nice young woman, but a little accident prone. Usually because she didn't think things through.
Right now she was armed with an air rifle and using it to pot lemons. Looking at the solitary lemon she had knocked off the fence into my yard I concluded that she wasn't very good at it.
"Julie, knock it off would you," I yelled. "If you want to shoot, put a paper target up against the fence. A big one. Then you might be able to hit it."
"I'm not hurting anyone," she said. I'm just practicing on some lemons. And I hit one, thank you very much."
"Yeah, one. I saw. And your misses are hitting my window. One of them will go straight through it sooner or later and I would be severely displeased."
Julie started protesting her innocence and how the BB slugs were far too small to damage anything but I interrupted.
"Do you mind not waving your rifle around when you're talking? I know it's little more than a popgun but it is a gun. You should take proper care when you're carrying it."
With a snort designed to indicate her contempt for people who were overly sensitive about gun safety, it was only an air rifle, after all, Julie slapped the muzzle down into her hand. And the stupid thing went off.
There was a pop and I felt a sting in my scalp. She might not have been able to hit a lemon but she could hit a head without even trying. In a way it was quite comical. If the BB slug had been a fraction higher it would have missed. A fraction lower and it would have hit more solidly and bounced off bone. A small wound but that would be all. As it was the silly little pellet just sliced along my scalp, leaving a deep scratch a couple of inches long.
Now a scratch is a scratch and that is all it is. It was a nothing thing, except it was on my scalp. Have you ever noticed how even a minor cut on the scalp can bleed like stink? Just like that I could feel the blood running down my face. I put a hand to my head and it came away red.
I looked at Julie and she had dropped her gun and was holding both hands to her mouth. Probably to stop herself screaming. I just shook my head, hopped off the fence and went inside to get cleaned up. At least, she wouldn't be potting my window any more.
A little pressure stopped the bleeding fast enough. Then it was just a case of sponge off the blood and change my shirt. I was doing the last when Julie came charging into the house. She came to a screeching stop when she saw me just standing there, looking at her.
"Oh my god," she started, "I'm so sorry. I thought I'd killed you. I can't apologise enough. I was stupid. I don't know what to say."
"No need to say anything just yet," I said affably, "but you might like to spend some time thinking about how you're going to explain this to your father."
"You're not going to tell dad," she exclaimed, horrified. "You wouldn't."
"Julie, I would," I said. "You were potting at lemons without even looking to see where your slugs were going. You were careless handling your weapon, and you shot me. I think he has a right to know what his daughter is doing."
"But it's only a little airgun," Julie wailed. "My dad will kill me."
"That little air gun could quite easily have put that slug into my eye and blinded me," I put out. "Look, eye here, cut here. Two inches lower and I'd be in a hospital with doctors saying sorry, we can't help you. And if your dad kills you it will save me the trouble."
"Oh, come on. It's only a tiny scratch. There's no need for all the melodrama."
"As you don't seem to have any idea of how stupid you were, I think there is. I'll let you explain to your dad it was only a scratch. Somehow, I think he'll stop short of killing you."
Julie gave me a furious look. I was being unreasonable in her books. It had, after all been an accident.
"Come on," she wheedled. "You know what my dad's like. He'll confiscate my air-rifle, ground me for a month and probably spank me for good measure."
"Sounds reasonable to me," I pointed out. "Unfortunately, you're eighteen, so I doubt that he'll spank you. Pity. You've earned it."
"He will. I just know he will and it's not fair. It was an accident," Julie stressed. "It wasn't my fault."
"Your gun, your carelessness, your responsibility. If it wasn't your fault, whose fault was it? Mine for objecting to you taking pot-shots at my windows? If he decides to spank you, tell him to invite me over to watch. I'd love to see it."
Julie folded her arms and flounced about a bit, trying to think of a way out of her trouble. She could think all she liked. Trouble was what she'd earned and I was going to make sure it came her way. She must have come to the same idea.
"Well, seeing how you were the offended party, why can't you punish me instead?" she asked.
"And how would I go about that? Ground you? And how would you explain that to your parents?"
"Not ground me," she said. The words 'you idiot' were plain in her voice, even if unsaid.
"You could spank me. Then you'd have no need to tell dad and I won't get grounded and have to do all sorts of horrible chores as well."
"Uh-huh," I said with a laugh. "Might I point out again that you're eighteen. Also, I'm not your dad."
"That's the whole point of your doing it. Then my dad doesn't need to know. I won't mind if you spank me. Honest."
"You'd squeal and cry like a baby, hoping I'd go easy," I said, "but if I spank you it will be a proper spanking."
Julie nodded eagerly. "I know. I'll behave and take it properly, I swear."
I considered. It had been a nice day out and Julie had been at home. All she was really wearing was a sun-top and tights. I shrugged. I would see where this led. It might be quite enjoyable.
"Turn around and bend over the table," I told her, trying to sound stern.
She blushed slightly and did as she was told, sticking her bottom out slightly. I moved up behind her, took hold of her tights and pulled them and her panties firmly down.
Julie stood bolt upright in a flash, turning to face me. Then she realised what she was showing me and hurriedly dropped her hands to cover herself.
