Message-ID: <39943asstr$1040235003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "ReadyOne" <ReadyOne@DROPMEameritech.net>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2002 01:52:30 CST
Subject: {ASSM} Handyman's Hand (MF, spank)
Date: Wed, 18 Dec 2002 13:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Handyman's Hand (MF, spank)
Copyright (c) 2001, 2002 ReadyOne All Rights Reserved.

I'd talked to him on the phone, I'd verified his
address, I knew where he worked, and believe it or not,
I even knew where he went to church!

He was just a bit older than me, and had done a lot of
different things in his life.  I also got the feeling
that he'd done a lot of different things in his sex
life too.  He was a most unusual mix, gentle except
when he was hard and firm, masculine but in touch with
his feelings and willing to share them.  I suspect he
could even cry at the theater if it were the right
movie.  And he seemed to be good at what he did, but
not arrogant.  A kind person, who would stop on the
road and change your tire or fix your bathroom sink,
just because he like to help people.

So I decided to see just how good he was at spanking.

I knew what I wanted, and I made a point to let him
know.  My mental telepathy skills haven't been
perfected yet! And after all, if you don't ask, you
can't get, can you?

Now, all I needed was a pretext to help him get
started.  Then I got a brilliant idea - kill two birds
with one stone.  A little "outside the box thinking" -
I'm good, aren't I?

When I role-play I like to stay with my age.  I'm not
quite Daddy's little girl or a young student.  More
like a secretary, housewife, aunt, or teacher.  But
real life damsel in distress could get me more than
just a light bulb changed.

Maintenance at my place doesn't get done too often
cheaper for them to ignore you unless it's a hole in
the roof or the hot water totally out.  So I made a
list of a few things I wanted changed around my place
like a phone beside my bed.  And yes, the sinks needed
to stop dripping too.

Phase one was easy.  I just ask him if he could help me
out with a couple of things on my list.  Nice guy, he
said yes.  Actually I suppose he'd have said yes even
if he weren't a nice guy just so he could check me out.
But it was safe to have him over late afternoon to
check out the work and see what tools and supplies he'd
need.  He didn't have to stay, and the invitation
didn't promise ANY kind of play.

Being the smart girl that I am, I made a deal with my
girlfriend that I would call her on her cell when he
came, and then she would call me back after a few
minutes.  We picked a couple of code words, one for
"I'm fine and happy", and the other for "Send Help!"

When he rang the bell, I didn't run to the door but
quickly called her.  Then I went over to the window
with the phone on my ear and waved at him, and started
to open the door (chain on) while I waited for her to
answer.  As soon as she did, I told her I had to go
because I had someone at the door.  She said she'd call
back if I didn't.  Which was the plan.

The guy turned out pretty nice.  Looked like his
picture, knew what he was doing when I showed him the
things on the list.  When the first call came, I gave
the all clear, and said we might be running over to the
hardware store to get some washers and wire, and I'd
let her know when we got back.  And I think he gave me
points for letting him know that I have friends who
care about me!

Well one thing turned into another.  We went shopping,
and he got the new phone jack installed while I
microwaved up some nachos.  I broke out a couple of
beers and thanked him.  I feed him by hand and got up
close to him.  He'd washed up well (no plaster dust or
anything) and still carried a very faint smell of
aftershave.  It was kind of fun to fuss over him.

And all the time, there was still a little fear in me.
At the very first, I was anxious because I didn't know
for sure what he'd turn out to be.  Then I started
thinking about I wanted him to do to me.  And how I was
going to get it started.  The anticipation had been
building.  Since he had never before spanked me, I
didn't know when, how, how hard, how long, or what
would cross my bottom.  I found my throat was tight and
there were butterflies in my stomach.

Time to put the moves on him!

I cuddled up and gave him the dumb innocent expression.
"How did he like my place?  Was I taking care of it?
What did he think about my taps dripping and the big
nick in the wall where I'd banged it moving the
dresser?"

Smart guy.  He was waiting, and picked up in no time.
He took me by the hand, and led me through the place,
looking under the sinks, and in the closets.  I felt
good to have him next to me, and I didn't mind his
hands on me as he turned me to look at one thing and
then walked me over to see another, all while talking
about the things he was seeing.  And he started to find
things he didn't like.  Things definitely got rolling
when his gentle talk turned into a lecture and then
into a scolding.

Finally, he told me to call my friend and tell her I
was going to be busy for the evening, and then we were
going to have a serious "discussion".  I let her know
the action was starting, and since I felt like trusting
him a bit, I gave her a 30 minute check request.

Then I took a chance to explain to him about my hard
life, and how things got so run down.  He didn't seem
to buy it.  I really tried to look innocent, then
contrite, and to dodge my way through, but it didn't
work.  Finally, he acted mad and cut off my excuses.

He told me to go stand in the corner while he changed
the sink washers, and that I should think about what
he'd said.

And yes, I did think.  Not too much about what he said,
but about how he might deliver his message.  Should I
get the paddle I keep in the dress drawer if he asks me
to?  How wide was his belt, anyway?  And what if he
brought a flogger or something else wicked in the

bottom of his toolbox?  And how was he going to start
with me?  On the bed?  Over his knee, I hoped.  The
more I thought about how my punishment might go, the
more turned on I got.

He did the bathroom, and coming back through the living
room, he planted a HARD swat on my bottom.  And he told
me to drop my pants, panties too, and not to move or
touch myself except to answer the phone.  Then he did
the kitchen sink, making comments form time to time
about what I could have done, should have done, or had
better-do to take care of the place.

When the phone rang, I answered quickly, gave the safe
phrase and told her stop being jealous unless she
wanted me to invite her over.  That gave me another
half-hour to play.

Well, you know what happened next.  He'd cleaned up
again and was just waiting for the phone call that we
both knew was coming.  When I hung up, I saw he had
carried in a kitchen chair and was setting on it.

There was a small box on the floor beside it, which I
had assumed was a toolbox when he brought it up from
the car.  Now I knew that he'd definitely brought some
other kinds of tools for me!

His finger beckoned, and I swear he almost cracked a
smile.  But the look was serious and I waddled over to
stand beside him.  "My lap" he said, and I positioned
myself.  A bit a fear touched me, but it just added to
my excitement.  I knew this was going to be GOOD.

He looked at my bottom, and complemented me on it.
Actually, he was gentle and loving as he caressed it
and my thighs.  He ask for me to chose a safe word, and
checked again that tears were still OK with me.  Then
he ask if I would accept my punishment.  I replied
meekly that I deserved what ever he felt appropriate.

He spread my legs enough to run his finger gently over
my slit.  It felt good, and I knew that he knew that I
was very wet.  Then he started talking to me again.

How I should take care of things, how it hurt him to
have to teach me this lesson the hard way, how I'd
disappointed him.  And his hand started gently
smacking.  It seemed like he was trying for a good
sound instead of a sting, but it didn't take long
before the intensity ramped up.  And yes, that
beautiful warmth started to radiate from my butt cheeks
and then rebounded into my pussy.

I squirmed and started to fuss.  When it looked like I
might slip off his lap, he tightened his grip on me and
gave me an extra hard one.  "Hold still!"  he said,
breaking the rhythm.  He fanned my bottom, and the
sting seemed to increase as the cool air hit it.  Then
he resumed, hard strokes, pausing several seconds
between each one.

Each stroke pushed me further and further.  I started
to whimper at each one, a sound that could have been
pain but also could have been the first little
foothills in that chain of peaks leading to mountainous
orgasms.

Then his other hand slid further around my waist and
down to catch my outside leg.  He gently pulled it
outward.  I responded by opening up the space between
my legs and pushed up off his lap to meet his first
hand.  But it didn't come down hard; instead he started
gently probing between my legs.

I was very close, and when he started stroking me with
his finger, I came hard for the first time.  He
prolonged the wave, gently circling my clit.  When I
started down, the swats resumed.  I began to cry, tears
of pain, tears of joy, tears of deliverance from a long
drought of no man to take care of me.

He changed back to with caresses, and pushed me over
the edge again.  More swats, then caresses with fingers
deep inside me.  I shook and bucked with gentle sobs as
I peaked again.  Around again we went, the last time
triggering my climax by swatting on my clit with two
fingers.

Massaging my neck and shoulders, he waited as drew
myself together.  Then he picked me off his lap, kissed
me, and led me into the bedroom.  I used the new phone
to make my call while he went to bring in the box he
had kept beside the chair.

I helped him take off the rest of my clothes and then
he turned back the sheets and laid me across my bed.
Taking some cool lotion out of his box, he pored it on
my sore buns.  Then he covered the rest of my back and
legs with it, gently rubbing it in.  The sensation was
relaxing, and when he finished with the lotion he
started kissing my neck.  The kisses went lots of
places, and he got me off again with them.  I felt so
wanted as he devoured me!

Love like that should be returned, so I undressed him
and took his dick in hand to get him off.  I'm sure he
would have been happy with just that - after all if he
were going to force himself on me it would have
happened already.

But then I thought what the heck?  "Do you have a
condom in that box?"  was all I had to say.

When the phone rang again, my girlfriend was worried.
Glancing at the clock, I saw why! I gave her the final
OK phrase and told her that if she were really good to
me, I'd share SOME of what had happened during my
wonderful evening in exchange for finding me the
world's softest chair to set on.

And the guy?  I do believe we'll get together again.
And I told him that a real date would not be out of
order!

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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