The Delivery Girl

By Maeve Ray

May is a broke college student working for a food delivery app. After a long day, she assumes that her delivery to a pair of beautiful older women will be like any other. It turns out to be anything but when the women offer her a chance to earn some extra money just for undressing and taking a spanking. May is conflicted but agrees, because she needs the cash. Things don't stop there, though, and what started as just a gig ends up paying off for May in more ways than one.

8,657 words. Featuring: spanking, vibrators, multiple orgasms, and two older lesbians double-teaming a college girl.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maeve Ray
• Release date: Jul 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463018774

Maeve Ray

Maeve Ray is a writer and student living with her family in California. She is a shameless dweeb, cat lover, homebody, and proud purveyor of reprehensible smut, who couldn't settle on one kink to save her life. To request a custom story, contact [e-mail].

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The Delivery Girl

By Maeve Ray

Copyright Maeve Ray 2020

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The food delivery job wasn’t great, but May couldn’t afford to turn her nose up at the chance to make some extra scratch. It was the only job that she could fit around classes and work study (AKA: slowly dying in a dismal office that hadn’t been redecorated since 1977). She had a car and a phone and didn’t mind spending hours driving around talking to people as little as possible.

Creepy guys were probably the worst part of the job. She’d learned to stand as far as she could from the door and act dumb at every stupid pass from some dude who had a pizza girl fantasy. She carried some pepper spray in her pocket and sometimes when she delivered at night she was very grateful she had it.

There were fun moments though; like the time she’d delivered several bags of Mexican food to a frat house, and the dudebro-looking guys who answered the door had spent five minutes gushing about her Pokémon tattoo; or when a seven-year-old girl answered the door and calmly accepted and paid for the pizzas, then tipped her with ten cents in pennies because, You have blue hair. Blue is the best color.

She’d just gotten out of class an hour and a half ago and was on her second delivery, some pastries and sandwiches from some fancy bakery. She’d probably make two, maybe three, more then go home to her stack of homework. If past experience held true, she’d probably also come home to a sink full of dishes and her teary-eyed roommate ready to vent about her boyfriend.

May turned into a cul-de-sac of upscale townhouses. After parking, she gave herself a moment to stretch and ready herself for what would hopefully be a brief, simple social interaction .

She double-checked the address on her phone, then stepped out of the car with the food in hand. The outside of number twelve was immaculate, the lawn obnoxiously well-maintained. She rocked impatiently back and