The Handywoman

By Walter Hammond

If you were to ask Liz what her occupation is, she would tell you that she’s an actor. And indeed, she has often appeared on the stage. She is well regarded by her peers; she is tall and beautiful, with a great figure and blonde hair. She is noted for her ability to do a wide range of accents convincingly.

But like most actors, she does spend a lot of time “resting”. To make ends meet, she also works as a handywoman. Having a father and uncle who are professional builders and decorators, she has learnt how to do all sorts of odd jobs. In this role, she uses the Irish name of Mary Kelly and an accent to match, having found that people seem to like Irish builders. Women like to employ her, as they feel safer having another woman doing those jobs rather than allowing a strange man into the house. Some men don’t want to use her, as they don’t like the idea that a woman, especially one younger than they are, can do jobs that they can’t. But this is easily outweighed by men who are happy to have an attractive woman in the house, especially one who knows how to keep her customers happy. When working for men, she often wears a low-cut top and a pair of skin-tight jeans, and her lacy thong can sometimes be seen peeking over the top of her waistband at the rear.

However, by itself this handywoman work doesn’t ing in a very large income. Liz has another way to make money. When doing a job, she tries to get an impression of the house key in Plasticine so that she can get a copy made. She waits for several months after she has finished work, to avoid suspicion, and then burgles the house.

One Friday, she checked her list of jobs. Yes, it was about time to visit Wendy’s place. She had worked on it seven months ago. She remembered Wendy well, another blonde, rather younger than herself and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Although Liz was straight, looking at Wendy gave her a strange feeling. Wendy had a steady 9 to 5 job, so was never in on weekdays; Liz had had to do the work on Saturdays and Sundays. Liz drove to Wendy’s neighbourhood with her bag of tools. Passing the house, she saw that the car was not in the driveway, so she assumed that Wendy was out. She parked a couple of streets away. She then walked down the alley running along the back of the houses in Wendy’s street. Recognising the house, she climbed over the low fence and unlocked the back door.

Wendy had bought the house as soon as she could afford to. It was not that she got on badly with her parents. However, she wanted to enjoy the delights of self-bondage, and there were very few times when she could guarantee that both of her parents would be out of the house for a long period, not to mention the difficulty of hiding her equipment from them. She had got the house relatively cheap as there was quite a lot wrong with it, and had been delighted to find Mary, who had fixed most of the faults efficiently.

She had taken the Friday off work, as she had to take her car to the garage to be serviced and there were various other things that needed doing. By 2pm she had completed them and finished lunch, so she decided to have a couple of hours of self-bondage.

Following one of her well-practised routines, she took her bag of equipment out of the wardrobe and put it next to the bed. Her bed had been carefully chosen to have a headboard and footboard with fixing points. She had four sets of handcuffs, the sort they sell in sex shops with little levers to unlock them without needing a key. She attached one to the headboard and two to the footboard, leaving the fourth on the bedside table. Next to it went her viator. She set her computer to sound an alarm at 4pm. She stuffed a pair of nylon panties into her mouth, and then buckled a ball gag tightly around her head, holding in the panties. She put on a pair of headphones, which would pick up music wirelessly from the computer. She stripped herself naked and put on a pair of seamed stockings. Next, she put on a blindfold; it was heavily padded, and not a trace of light could reach her eyes. Climbing onto the bed, she found the handcuffs on the footboard and put one around each ankle, forcing her to keep her stockinged legs spread well apart. Lying back, she fastened the pair on the headboard around her right wrist. This left her left arm free, so she could easily release the handcuffs using the levers when the alarm sounded. She listened to the soothing music, and she played with her nipples and pussy with her left hand. Bliss!

Liz crept upstairs quietly. She believed that the house was empty, but she was too cautious to take any chances. Seeing the bedroom door open, she peeped in. When she saw Wendy, she initially panicked, but she quickly realised what was happening. Wendy was obviously blindfolded so could see nothing, and with those headphones she could presumably not hear much either. Liz tiptoed over to the bed and looked down at Wendy’s naked body. How beautiful! And how happy she looked. Liz picked up the handcuffs from the bedside table and fastened them to the headboard. She grabbed Wendy’s left wrist. Taken completely by surprise, Wendy did not react fast enough to stop Liz handcuffing the wrist to the headboard.

Bewildered, Wendy writhed around, helpless, and tried to shout. But she had gagged herself too well, and only a relatively faint sound could emerge. Her next-door neighbours were both out at work, and nobody else could possibly hear her. Still, Liz wanted to silence her even more effectively. She spotted Wendy’s bag of equipment. There was a large roll of duct tape. Picking it up and starting to peel off a strip, she lifted Wendy’s head from the pillow and wrapped several turns of tape tightly around Wendy’s head, covering her mouth. She did the same with Wendy’s blindfold, making it even more secure. Another strip went from ear to ear under Wendy’s chin. She slapped Wendy’s easts, and was satisfied with how little sound emerged through the gag. Next, Liz wrapped tape tightly around Wendy’s fingers, immobilising them. She knew that Wendy was already unable to escape, but this would have the effect of making her feel more helpless and less likely to try to escape.

Liz removed Wendy’s headphones. She spoke in the accent of someone from Tennessee, which Wendy couldn’t possibly recognise as the same as Mary’s voice. “You just lie still; struggling will do you no good,” she said. What else could Liz do to make Wendy feel even more helpless? She saw a collar and leash in Wendy’s bag. She pulled the pillows from under Wendy’s head. She attached the leash to the collar and buckled the collar around Wendy’s neck, then she pulled the leash under the headboard and fixed it to the top of the board, preventing her from lifting her head. She saw something shiny in the bag. Picking it up, she was puzzled for a minute, but then realised that it was a steel butt plug. Wendy had bought it, but she had decided that it was too big to get into her. Liz did not realise that. She folded the pillows in half and, lifting Wendy, put them under her back. Wendy’s bottom was now lifted clear of the bed. Liz put the butt plug into position and started pushing, using her other hand to press down on Wendy’s crotch. Slowly, the plug went in. With no luication, it was not easy and nor was it pleasant for Wendy, though she could make little sound to protest. Eventually, it did go all the way in.

Liz now ransacked the room and the rest of the house, gathering up valuables. She also found files relating to Wendy’s online accounts. Wendy could of course hear what was happening, but she could do no more than squirm helplessly. Liz returned to Wendy. “You’re gorgeous, girl,” she said, as she started to play with Wendy’s easts. She took Wendy’s left nipple into her mouth and sucked and licked it. Inevitably, the nipple soon grew hard. Liz stopped and, taking a clothes-peg she had found, clamped it on Wendy’s nipple. Wendy moaned and bucked in her restraints, to no avail. Liz went to the other side of the bed and repeated this with the right nipple.

“So you like being in bondage, do you girl?” said Liz. “You must be hugely grateful to me for what I’ve done, so I’m sure you won’t mind paying me something for my work.” The computer was of course still on. “Now, here’s what I’ll do,” Liz told Wendy. “I have all your passwords and stuff, so I can take control of your online accounts. But first …” She yanked the clothes-pegs off Wendy’s nipples without bothering to open them first. Then, taking Wendy’s viator off the bedside table, she ought her to the edge of an orgasm. Just as Wendy was about to cum, Liz pulled out the viator and replaced the clothes-pegs, ruining the orgasm. Liz now turned to the computer. After she had taken control of each account, she told Wendy what she had done, and then repeated the procedure, yanking off the pegs, using the viator and then ruining the orgasm.

Finally, Liz was finished. “Right, girl,” she told Wendy. “I’m leaving now. I’ll take all your stuff, including your computer, phone and credit cards. You need to stay like this for a while so I can use your credit cards undisturbed, but sometime tomorrow I’ll contact the police. Oh, there’s one thing I’ll leave to make up for all your ruined orgasms.”

Yanking off the pegs one last time, Liz turned the viator to maximum and plunged it intro Wendy’s pussy. Wendy, lying helpless, gagged and blindfolded, lost count of the orgasms she had before she was finally released.

The End

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