Cougar Gets Spanked
The handyman turns the tables.
This is a continuation of the story — The Plumber Cums
***
I was motoring the maintenance cart towards building seven when I spotted Helen walking to the pool. She was wearing a yellow bikini with a watermelon print. She had a pink terrycloth cover-up, but it was open in the front.
She waved at me.
I waved back with the intention of driving on, but she stepped off the sidewalk and into my path. I stopped the cart.
“Hello, Rocky.” She smiled.
“Hello, Mrs. Henderson.”
“Oh, please, Rocky, my name is Helen and you know it.” She reached under the robe to scratch her shoulder. “I wanted to apologize to you. My behavior the other day was quite naughty. Dare I say, rather unforgivable?” She touched my arm and gave a familiar squeeze to my bicep. “Do you forgive me?”
“Sure… Helen. No problem.”
I had been summoned to her apartment to fix the toilet. Somehow, she coerced me into masturbating while she watched. From the moment I entered her apartment, I had been entangled in her web. Everything had happened as she had designed. Now, she held my life in the palm of her hand. Like Monica Lewinsky’s infamous blue dress, Helen had the shirt stained with my seed. One word from her and my job would be history. My references would be so bad, I’d never get another job. I might end up on the sex offender registry.
Did she intend to blackmail me?
Sitting in the maintenance cart, I drew a long drink from a water bottle, wishing it was vodka.
She smiled. “Great.” She chuckled. “It was really naughty of me, don’t you think?”
“Yes… very naughty.”
“Such a naughty girl deserves a… a spanking. Don’t you think? I’d feel much better if you’d give me a spanking. Then I’d know you truly forgive me.” She trailed her hand down my arm. Her tiny hand rested on my larger hand, which gripped the steering wheel. “I bet you could give a girl a nice smack on the posterior.” When I said nothing, she asked, “Do you get a lunch break?”
“Yes, but I already ate lunch.”
“That’s fine. Tomorrow, I’ll wait until tomorrow.” She let a silence hang in the air for a moment. “So, about 12:30, you’ll be over?”
I swallowed and imagined spanking her firm derriere. Once again, she had snared me.
“Sure.”
“I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just come on in.” She smiled and backed away from the cart.
I tapped the gas petal. As I drove away, I watched her in the rear-view mirror. With her back to me, she pushed back her robe to expose her bottom and tugged on the leg-hole hem of her bikini.
What had just happened? What game was she playing?
Despite the alarm bells sounding the need for caution, I parked the cart behind her building at 25 minutes past noon the following day. I scanned the area to confirm no one was around. I surveyed the balconies overlooking the parking lot and verified they were all empty. With my paper-sack lunch, I walked into the breezeway. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. As she had promised, it was unlocked.
I entered and closed the door. And then she appeared from around the corner.
“Hello, Rocky.”
She was wearing a schoolgirl uniform complete with white Oxford shirt, tartan plaid skirt, and knee-high socks. She was not wearing any shoes. She grinned, and did a spin to display her ensemble.
“Do you like it? Isn’t it perfect for a naughty girl reporting to the Principal’s Office?”
My tongue twisted in my mouth, and I said nothing.
She came closer and tucked the fingers of her hand into my waistband. She pulled our bodies close and strained her neck to look up into my eyes with her oval doe-eyes.
“Please, Mr. Rocky, won’t you please be gentle? My bottom is so tender.”
“Well…” I cleared my throat. “I do have a job to do.” If it was a game she wanted, then she would get one.
She smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
She lowered to the floor. Kneeling, she opened my belt. Her hand cupped the bulge in my jeans, and she appeared pleased to discover I was already firm. For a moment, I thought she had decided to forgo the spanking and give me a blow job. But then, she pulled my belt free of my trouser loops, and I suspected she intended me to spank her with the belt. However, she put the free end through the buckle to create a loop. She put the loop over her head and snugged it around her neck. She handed me the free end.
“Please, Mr. Rocky, not too tight. I just want to feel that you are in control.”
She dropped to her hands and knees. I held the belt like a leash and followed her as she crawled to the couch.
“Do you want me over your knees, or bent across the ottoman?”
On the ottoman were varying sizes of paddles and leather straps. I sat on the couch.
“Across my knees. Bend over, across my knees, Miss Helen. And be quick about it.”
She smiled and presented her best helpless doe eyes. “Yes, Sir!”
As she lay across my lap, the skirt hem pulled up to reveal the lightly suntanned backs of her bare thighs. She crossed her hands to create a pillow for her head, and crossed her ankles. The free end of the belt fell to the floor beside her head. Her bottom pushed up and invited me to proceed. I placed my left hand in the center of her back with a light pressure indicating she would remain still. My right hand rested on the material of the skirt, which barely covered her posterior.
Ignoring the punishment implements on the ottoman, for the moment, I began to hand-spank her. These were very light, merely symbolic swats; however, she crooned and squirmed as though I was actually stinging her backside.
After a dozen swats, she moaned, “Please, sir, harder. Use the paddle if you want.”
I pulled the skirt aside to reveal that she was wearing what could only be described as ‘grandma panties’. They were white cotton briefs which covered her entire bottom. I gave her several firmer hand-swats. She softly cried out in pain, and Scissor kicked her legs; however, I was certain the swats were not actually painful.
I reached for one of the paddles. It was smaller than my hand and made of dark mahogany wood. I resumed her punishment with a series of swats with the paddle. I imaged these actually had a real sting, and she continued to react accordingly. I had to increase the pressure with my left hand to keep her firmly in position.
“If you don’t hold still and take your punishment like a good girl, I will have no choice but to pull down your panty.”
I had expected she wore the old fashion underwear to ensure that her feminine parts were modestly covered. Thus, I was surprised when she responded with ever stronger struggles. She pushed up with her torso and kicked wildly with her feet. Without thinking, I hooked my fingers into the panty waistband and jerked the white cloth down. Instantly, her bare bottom was exposed. For a moment, I admired the tan-line left by her bikini and the alabaster skin, which had not been exposed to the sun. Instantly, she froze in position.
“Oh, Sir, please be gentle,” she pleaded.
I continued applying the paddle, although no firmer than I had been. When her white flesh turned pink, I asked, “Young lady, do you think you have learned your lesson?”
“Yes, Sir. I want to be a good girl now.”
I released her, and she slipped to kneel on the floor. I stood and started to step away, thinking the episode was over. But, she put a hand on my groin and looked up into my eyes.
“Mr. Rocky, let me show you how good a girl I am.” She opened my trousers and took out my rapidly swelling tool. As before, she cupped and massaged my balls. This time, she added her right hand to stroke my hard-on.
Expecting her to take me into her mouth, I lightly held her head and guided her to me. However, she didn’t open her ruby lips. Rather, she massaged my balls between her hand and her chin while she rubbed my glans along her cheek.
While no blowjob, I didn’t complain. When the pressure built and I was ready to come, I tried again to get her to open her mouth. She steadfastly refused. All the while, she kept her eyes on mine.
“No, not that,” she stated between clenched teeth.
When I could stand the pressure no longer. I jetted my seed along her cheek, down her neck, and onto her shirt. She seemed pleased with the way things came out. As my orgasm waned, she released her hold on my manhood and rubbed the creamy stuff around her face. And then, she picked up one of the larger paddles and whacked my ass.
“Don’t ever try to make me do something I don’t want to do again,” she snarled. She pulled the belt loose from her neck and dropped it on the couch.
“Sorry, but I thought that was the whole point of the submissive behavior.”
Thinking the lunch date was at an end, perhaps our entire relationship was over, I re-strung my belt and closed my trousers. Withdrawing my sandwich from the paper bag, I tossed the remains of my lunch in her trashcan. Rapidly, eating the hamburger, I walked out.
“Wait, Rocky.” Helen leaned out of the open doorway. She glanced both ways along the breezeway. Seeing we were alone, she continued, “I’m sorry, you’re right. Come back same time tomorrow and I’ll make it up to you.”
I nodded and turned away so that she would not see me chuckle. Helen had been in control of our relationship, confusing as it was. But, now I had the upper hand.
THE END, but the story continues with The Stud Gets A Butt Plug
***
Copyright ©2022 by Mark S. R. Sterling All Rights Reserved
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