Prelude: It is perhaps all the more gratifying when unexpected events fall into our everyday routine on days when our minds are on everything but pleasure. This is the story of one of those days and events.
Fall had arrived, the time when preparations for winter take a good part of the daily routine. Firing up the gas furnace gave no sign of heat, so I checked the main unit in the basement. Nothing happening there so I called the furnace repair cpmpany. About an hour later the doorbell rang, and I opened the door to see a tall, slender young man in his mid-20s or so with toolbox in hand and a fully equipped toolbelt around his waist.
"Hi, I'm Jamie with the heating repair. Understand you're having a furnace problem of some sort. The house furnace may have been broken but my internal heater was beginning to work overtime. I described the problem with the furnace and he said, "Sounds like we'd better start by checking out the central unit. Where is it?"
"In the basement," I said. "Follow me downstairs."
"Glad to," he said with a degree of pleasured anticipation in his voice. We walked through the dining room and kitchen and I opened the door leading to the baement.
He removed the furnace access panels, opened his toolbox, and knelt down to get a look at the burner compartment and the fan just above it. Standing behind him I noticed that his shirt was riding up past his waist, revealing a stretch of bare skin on his back and affording a look at the waistband of his white briefs. He moved forward a bit more, exposing more skin and briefs. By now I had moved closer to him, supposedly to get another look at the furnace but secretly hoping he would notice and reciprocate in some way.
He kept working for about 30 minutes but said he could find nothing amiss. By then he was facing me and still kneeling on the floor.
"So if I understand what you're saying, you are going to charge me for a service call, my furnace still doesn't work, and the only explanation I get is that you can't find the problem."
"Well, sir, I do fail in my mission every now and then, but I also expect to pay a price for it in some way. While saying that he had moved a bit closer to me and stood up, looking directly into my eyes. Then he turned around and stepped backward, putting is slender buttocks up against my hand, saying, "I'll pay the price by you giving me a good spanking. And I'll mark the service call off my list and tell the office the work needs to be completed under your factory warranty."
I said, "In that case I will be a completely satisfied customer on both counts. Let's go upstairs to the den and even the score a little bit."
Once in the den I opened a storage door and took out a wooden paddle, about 18 inches in length, and a strap. I in the past had engaged in some spanking encounters at my home and always kept the implements close by just in case unexpected oppotunities presented themselves in the future. This was proving to be one of those moments.
Jamie was looking at a variety of pictures on the den wall, then turned to face me and said, "Tell me what you want me to do, master."
He had a very soft, appealing look about him standing there in the soft flourescent lighting of the den. At that moment he looked less like a repairman and more like a young man waiting to be whipped for failing to measure up to the requirements of his job. I walked over to him and reached out to stroke his chest and buttocks.
"Remove your shirt and jeans," I quietly told him. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head then unbuttoned and removed his jeans. He presented an appealing and provocative picture standing there in his bikini briefs and obviously aroused at the thought of what was about to happen. I then took Jamie by the arm and gently guided him to a straightback side chair near the desk. Sitting down in the chair I then instructed him to lie across my lap. As he did I could feel the firmness of his crotch pressing up against my thigh.
"You know why tis is necessary, don't you Jamie," I asked, running my fingers lightly over his briefs and tracing the outline of each buttock,
"Yes, sir. I didn't do my job properly and now I have to take my punishment. I expect that you will be very firm with me because I came here unprepared to do what was required of me. I am ready to submit.
"Fine. At least you understand the need for this," I told him, and added that he was to receive in all 100 strokes of the hand, the paddle, and the strap. I told him we would begin with his underwear in place, then I would strip him naked as we progressed with the whipping.
"Yes sir," he responded.
I positioned him so that his hands were resting on the floor to my left and his feet braced against the floor on my right. Then I gave him the first ten strokes with my hand, rapidly and hard, so that I got his full attention.
He flexed the muscles of his butt and said, "That felt good, sir. Will you make the other spanks harder?"
I then told him to rise to his feet, whereupon I turned the chair around and told him to bend over the back of it and reach down to place his hands on the front legs. As he did that I picked up the paddle and approached him, telling him to spread his legs as far apart as he could.
With him properly situated I began to give him 20 hard strokes with the board, each spaced out by 20 seconds. Thinking that he was receiving sufficient intensity in each swat, Jamie groaned softly and asked me to give it to him even harder. Wanting him, also, to be pleased I ordered him up off the chair and over to a table behind the couch, where I had him bend over the table and place his outstretched arms forward on the table top. As he did this I reached down and pulled his bikini briefs down to his ankles. His balls, penis, and anus were now plainly visible and I cupped his testicles in my hand, gently kneading them from side to side.
"That feels very good, sir," he said, his breathing picking up a bit. He shifted his weight from side to side and groaned quietly once again, so taking this as a positive sign I moved my hand further between his thighs and grasped his erect penis, stroking it gently while Jamie put more weieght on his feet and raised his middle slightly so as to give me more access to his now throbbing member. I continued to stroke him for another minute, then picked up the paddle.
I rememberd his request for harder strokes and showered down six of the hardest yet on his waiting behind.
"Yes, oh yes!" he cried, as he became more vocal about the punishment that was being brought upon his backside. "You are the best, sir. Please give me some more."
Hearing that, it became apparent that I should have him step out of his briefs and move to the center of the room. There he stood upright while I again stroked te surface of his bare bottom and asked if he was getting everything he wanted.
"Very much so, sir," he replied as I then told him the remainder of the punishment was to become more intense. "I hope you will make me remember that doing my job well is important."
Jamie's buttocks had taken on a shade of bright crimson. I walked to the desk and picked up the two-foot-long strap, walked t where Jamie stood, and asked, "You know what is next, don't you boy?"
"I do, sir, what position do you want me in to be strapped?" He looked as if he was yet to receive the first srokes of 30 minutes before, eager and waiting to receive more. He had the most remarkable ability to show no visible responses to the pain he was obviously enduring, and I had spanked many men with far less severity but heard them react in much worse ways.
"Jamie, you are about the undergo the most challenging part of our encounter, I said while standing in front of him and looking at his still-erect penis. I once more ran my hand over its six-inch length and then placed my index and middle fingers down to scratch his low-hanging balls. "You are now to bend all the way over, spread your legs, and hold your ankles. Everytime you move from that position I will add five strappings to the count. Do you understand?"
"Yes, master," Jamie said, moving his feet apart to shoulder width and assuming the position with hands firmly grasping ankles.
I began a slow rhythmic series of slaps with the strap to his backside, the strap popping loudly with each contact of the leather on Jamie's reddening skin. After administering 12 strokes, I moved him to the couch where he was told to kneel on the sitting area of the couch and bend himself over its low back. The strapping continued until he'd taken another 20 strokes. Then I told him the punishment was finished and that he had done extremely well.
He thanked me and said that there was one more thing necessary to make the punishment complete. Thinking that we had engaged in punishment sufficient to satisfy even the most avid receiver of correction, he said, without hesitating, "I always like the man who whips me to bring me to climax. Sometimes it happens while the whipping is taking place, but not this time, so will you use your hand to relieve me?"
Not wanting to have him think I was feeding him a sundae with no cherry on top I said, "Sure Jamie. How would you like me to do it?"
Without speking he walked over to a daybed in the den, got on his knees on the edge of the mattress, and leaned forward to put his chest and shoulders all the way down. Still admiring his buttocks, area between his boyish legs, and still-elongated penis I moved behind him and placed a towell on the bed between his spread legs then began to stroke the length of his waiting member. He said all the spanking really works him up each time he gets it, and he began to utter soft but increasingly loud groans of pleasure. Then he took a quick breath and had a lengthy orgasm, all the while producing a large amount of ejaculate. Afterward he lay on his back, his long stiff penis gradually subsiding.
That was as good a discipline session as I've ever had," he said with a smile, then he quickly added, "by the way your furnace is fixed. I found a loose connection and put it back in place."
I told him that telling a lie would cost him another service call one day soon.
"I hope so," he responded. It'll be my pleasure even though I had to fib this time to get you interested in me and give me an opening to get things started between us.
"Well, to be honest I was immediately attracted to you when you arrived at the door," I said.
"Yeah, same here. Just give the shop a call when you need my presence again. Tell the receptionist it's a recall and you like the work I did before." She'll make sure the call is assigned to me. I'm the owner's son, so I pretty much get my pick of the calls. And I do good work."
"I'll say," I thoought.
It's good that each of us thought the services received were satisfactory.
And with that he put on his tool belt, picked up his tool box, and drove away.