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HANDS old wrapping and then gathered her


"Hands of the Hammer"
copyright 2000 by Souvie
femNOSPACEecrivain at netdot dot com
or use the handy form on my website:
= = = = =
Silvia cleared off the dining room table and carefully spread out the
daily newspaper. There it was, right on the front page. The headline
shouted out, "Hammer Hands Foils Bank Robbery." Too bad there wasn't a
picture to go along with the article. Sighing, she picked up the scissors
and carefully cut out the printed words. A dab of glue to the back corners
and she pasted it on a new page in her scrapbook. A scrapbook dedicated to
the one and only man she would ever love; Hammer Hands, crusader for the
downtrodden and defender of justice.

She tossed the rest of the paper in the trash and picking up her glass
of wine, sat down in the window seat. She stared through the frosty glass
into the night beyond.


"You're late."

"I know, Mr. Akuma, and I'm sorry," was what she said. 'You stupid
prick, of course I know I'm late,' was what she wanted to say. She hurried
to her small cubicle and sat down behind the desk. Another day, same
boring job, same boring life. She smiled to herself. Hopefully soon, all
that would change.


Silvia watered the plants in her apartment, fed the cat, ate supper, and
cleaned up the kitchen.

She ended up sitting on the bed, staring at a large gift-wrapped box.
For several days, she'd searched online during her lunch breaks and found a
specialty shop that dealt in leather and vinyl, discreet with no questions
asked. She'd charged it to her boss's Visa; his fault for entrusting her
to order some things for his wife last month. If he was too lazy to do it
himself, it served him right. Besides, by the time the bill came in and he
discovered what she'd done, she would be established in her new life with
Hammer Hands. The box had been delivered 3 days ago but she hadn't gotten
further than taking off the plain brown paper it'd been shipped in. She
ran her hand over the gold wrapping and then gathered her things for a

'It's not going to be forever,' she thought to herself as she stepped
beneath the hot spray of water. 'You *will* get out of the secretarial
pool.' Like a mantra, she recited this over and over again.

She toweled herself dry and then collapsed into bed, hugging her
scrapbook and her package, telling herself, 'Tomorrow is the night.
Tomorrow I find Hammer Hands.'


Friday found Silvia rushing through her work, even skipping lunch so
that she could leave work thirty minutes early.

She burst into her apartment and collapsed into a giddy, excited heap on
the sofa. She still had a couple of hours until it was dark but she didn't
care. She bounced up and went into the bedroom. There was the package
waiting on the bed for her. She quickly stripped and then stared at
herself in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Not bad for a
thirty year old who didn't exercise much. Sure her thighs were a bit
thicker than they were ten years ago and her breasts weren't quite as
perky, but she was still happy with her looks. She only hoped he would be.
She tore open the wrapping on the box and lifted the lid. She stared at
the red vinyl inside. Taking it out gingerly, she stared a moment more,
and then started to put it on.

When she was done she turned around and looked at herself in the mirror.
The sheer decadence of it took her breath away. The vinyl, what there was
to it, was a one-piece suit of small proportions. It rode up high on her
hips and barely covered the valley between her legs. From there it joined
on the sides and criss-crossed up her chest and back. The bodice part
covered the tops of her breasts and rose high up on her neck where it
joined in the back like a halter top. The bottom half of her breasts was
shockingly bare.

Silvia tore herself away from the mirror and reached into the box for
the rest of the outfit. She sat on the bed and tugged on the thigh high
boots with the 2-inch wedge heels. Next came the opera-length gloves. The
mask was next; a half-mask that concealed enough, but left her hair
swirling around her shoulders.

She looked in the box; a black riding crop and velvet-padded handcuffs
rested against the tissue paper. She picked up the crop and tapped it
against her thigh. Looking in the mirror again, this time with the whole
outfit on, she couldn't help but feel...naughty. Naughty and exposed, but
with a feeling of power. She wasn't Silvia Bongo anymore, she was "Crimson
Mistress." The outfit gave her a feeling of confidence and self-assuredness
she didn't know she could possess. It was a heady feeling.

Doing a pirouette she happened to glance at the clock on the dresser.
It was later than she'd thought! Time to get moving!

Luckily she'd had the presence of mind to beg the use of her landlady's
car for the evening. She dropped the crop, picked up the keys and rummaged
in her purse for her driver's license. She then ran into the little
problem of where to put it. She gave up and decided to leave it behind; if
she got stopped tonight, a lack of license would probably be the least of
her problems.


She arrived in the alley fifteen minutes before eight. She'd worried
and pondered over ways to actually find Hammer Hands. In the end, she
decided to commit a crime. That would get his attention and besides, it
wasn't like it would be the first time she'd walked on the wrong side of
the law.

By eight o'clock, Manny's Meat Market was a fireball. She tossed the
gas can into the alley the next block over and hid in the shadows, sure
that Hammer Hands would show up.

As the minutes ticked away, she began to get a little anxious. This
would work. This *had* to work!

She never heard a sound. She turned around to pace the width of the
alley again and he was there. Standing tall and unflappable, he stared
holes through her with his bright blue eyes.

As she stood there, rooted to the spot, he raked his gaze up and down
the length of her. "Are you responsible for the fire?"

She tried to find her voice but all that came out was a tight little
squeak. What had happened to that burst of confidence she'd felt in her
apartment? Apparently it had abandoned her as quickly as it'd appeared.

He continued to stare at her.

She took several deep breaths. Now that he was here, she was nervous as
a 25-year old virgin in a whorehouse. "I...uh...yes."

"You do know that I'll have to take you in?"

It was the moment of truth. "No."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You can't, you have to come with me." She pointed to herself. "Me."
She groaned inside. *He's going to think I'm a twaddling idiot.*

"I don't have time for silly riddles and games," he said. Never once
did he comment on her costume or ask her name or look at her with anything
other than impatient tolerance.

As he walked forward and grabbed her arm she struggled to free her

In all the carefully constructed scenarios Silvia had played and
replayed in her head for months, none of them had turned out like this. He
was supposed to be surprised at first, maybe even shocked, and then confess
his undying love. How he got from point A to point B was all vague, but
the end result was always the same - he ended up in love with her.

"No, this isn't the way it's supposed to go!" she cried, still trying to
pull her arm away.

"I have work to do," he answered curtly. He started off down the
alleyway, dragging her along behind him.

Silvia was overcome with panic. If she let him take her in, all was
lost. It had taken her 2 years to work up the courage to get to this
point. Suddenly she let her upper body go limp. Hammer Hands turned to see
what was going on now, when she caught him with a sharp boot to the groin.
He fell to his knees with a groan, still holding her hand. On impulse, she
picked up a bottle that was lying at her feet, and putting her years of
high school softball practice to good use, drew her arm back and crashed it
down on his skull.

It hit the back of Hammer Hands' head with a dull thud and crashed to
the ground only seconds before he did.

"Oh my God," Silvia breathed. "What have I done?"


Silvia was pacing back and forth when Hammer Hands finally came to.
They were back at her apartment and to say he was dismayed at finding
himself tightly trussed to a kitchen chair was putting it mildly. "Let me
go," he commanded.

"I don't think so," she answered. There was a new air about her, one he
hadn't seen earlier. Here on her own turf *she* was the one in control.
"Do you know," she continued, still pacing, "how much trouble it was to lug
you down the alley and stuff you into the back seat of the car? I never
knew how heavy dead weight could be!"

The object of her affections tugged experimentally at his bonds. They
were pretty secure, he gave her that much credit. "Why don't you tell me
what all this is about?" Better to keep her talking and distracted.

She stopped in front of him and tapped a vinyl-clad toe on the floor.
"I love you."

He waited for more. When it seemed more wasn't forthcoming, he
prompted, "And you are...?"

"Does it matter?" She smiled with a touch of wistfulness. "I have loved
you from the moment I first saw your picture in the paper, over two years
ago." She started her pacing again. He wondered if she realized that the
long, agitated strides she was taking, only stretched her outfit tighter
against her curves. That gleaming vinyl showed exactly enough to make you
want to see more. 'Where in the hell had she gotten something like that?
More importantly, where had that thought come from?'

"I know everything about you, at least everything that is important.
You're generous, kind, fair, courageous, trustworthy, honest." She cut her
eyes at him and winked. "Plus you're cute."

"All that, and you are so sure you're in love with me?" he asked,

She stopped and tilted her head to the side, her hair caressing the
curve of her cheek. "You're everything I could want in a lifemate, and
more." There was no mistaking the sincerity in her voice and it hit him
almost as hard as the bottle had earlier.

She turned and the moment passed. "I apologize for hitting you with the
bottle, by the way." She walked into the small kitchen and started to pour
two glasses of wine. "I swear, I've never ever done anything like this
before in my life." She entered the living room again and stopped dead in
her tracks.

Hammer Hands was standing beside the chair that he'd been securely tied
to only minutes before. Two long pieces of rope dangled from his hand.

Silvia did what any other woman would do after kidnapping a superhero,
tying them up in their apartment, confessing their undying love and
devotion, and then having them pull a Houdini - she fainted.


Silvia had the weirdest feeling of reverse deja vu. She came to slowly,
only to realize that *she* was the one sitting in the kitchen chair this
time, and her hands were tied at her side, to the legs of the chair.
Hammer Hands was standing in front of her. "What?" She looked down at her
hands and then back up at him. "You tied me up with my own nylons?"

"The rope would have been too abrasive."

"Okay, but why my legs, too?" Her ankles were secured to the front legs
of the chair. "You honestly think I'm going to go hobbling out the door,
dragging a chair behind me?"

He shrugged a shoulder elegantly.

"Let me loose. This is *not* the way it's supposed to go!" She
struggled, but he'd done a good job of anchoring her to the chair;
evidently a better job than she'd done with him.

"I'm afraid I can't do that...Silvia."

She gasped as she realized the confining presence of her mask wasn't
there anymore. False bravado was all she had left; that plus the vinyl
cobweb that passed for her outfit. "So...what happens next?"

"Very good question." He walked up close to her and stared down. She
ducked her head and stared at his shoes. "I think I'll kiss you first."

"Huh?" Silvia said, making the mistake of raising her head. His lips
closed over hers before she could protest. Just the lightest touch, a
tease, and he drew back.

Her eyes were wide and questioning as he knelt in front of her. "I
don't understand."

"You will." He leaned forward and captured her lips again. "I know you,
Silvia," he said, in between the little nibbling kisses he was bestowing
upon her lips. "You're shy." His lips moved to tickle her jaw and then
make their way lazily up to her left ear. "You're intelligent." He
worshipped her neck with his lips and tongue. The increasing rise and fall
of her chest told him he was getting to her. "And I've been trying to get
your attention for almost a year now." This last was whispered against her
lips as his sought to claim them once again.

"What do ... who are you?" It was getting harder for her to think

"I'm everything you could want in a lifemate, and more," he answered,
throwing her own words back at her. He ran a finger down along her smooth
cheek and over the tight swell of one plump breast.

She took a deep breath before asking, "Aren't you going to untie me

He shook his head from side to side. "Nuh uh. You wore that outfit to
give me a specific message and I read you loud and clear."

"Well, will you at least take off your mask?"

He didn't even answer, just leaned forward to kiss her again. His lips
teased her own and then started a journey south. His tongue forged a path
down to the top of one ample breast and traced along the edge of her red costume. A gasp of mingled excitement and shock escaped her lips.

By stretching and tugging he managed to shimmy the vinyl up over her
nipples so that the rosy peaks quickly pebbled in the cool air. They were
practically crying out to him, and Hammer Hands never could pass up a plea
for help.

He licked his tongue across a hard nipple and then blew on it. He could
feel the goosepimples on Silvia's arms from where his hands rested lightly
on them. He licked it once more and then sucked the delectable morsel into
his mouth.

Tied up as she was, Silvia was helpless to do anything about it. Not
that she wanted to anyway. This was better than she'd imagined in all her
errant daydreams. She wished she could run her fingers through his hair
and rip that mask right off his face. Further thought was suspended for
her, as he moved his attention to the other breast.

Silvia couldn't stand the assault long, before she was bucking her hips
against the hard wood of the chair and struggling in vain to get loose of
her bonds. Hammer Hands waited until she started to beg and plead for him
to give her satisfaction, before he moved his lips down to the valley
between her thighs.

Unfortunately the scanty strap of vinyl between her legs wouldn't budge
an inch when he tried moving it to the side. Short of untying her and then
peeling the outfit off of her, he didn't see any other way. He sat back on
his heels and fumbled in the utility belt at his waist. He pulled out a
very small and very sharp utility knife. Two carefully placed swipes and
the flap of material fell forward.

"Oh, my outfit!" Silvia groaned. She lamented the destruction of her
expensive suit but at the same time, her eyes were fixed on the evidence of
Hammer Hands' arousal, pushing at the confines of his own suit.

"I'll replace it," he said, then turned his attention to that which had
just been revealed. Her pubic area was shaved smooth as silk but much more

Hammer Hands kissed the inside of her thigh, nipped at it playfully with
his teeth, then soothed the bite with his tongue. Placing a palm on either
knee, he pushed her legs farther apart, and continued his kiss-bite-lick
assault until he reached her treasure trove.

Silvia tried pushing her hips forward but her movement was limited by
the way he had tied her. She clenched her teeth in frustration.

It was a testament to his self-control that he hadn't embarrassed
himself by staining the front of his pants. Truth was, he didn't know how
much longer he could hold out.

Hammer Hands planted teasing kisses on her clit, in between licking her
inner lips with full swipes of his tongue. He gently nibbled that love
button, immediately laving the area generously with his tongue.

He moved one hand from her knee, and used his fingers to replace his
tongue. He rubbed her clit in small, tight circles, while his tongue
wormed its way between her inner lips and plunged repeatedly into the musky
warmth of her sex.

"Fuck yeeeesssss!" Silvia screamed as a hot rush of pure, unfiltered
pleasure rushed up and over her. Spasms racked her pussy as Hammer Hands
rubbed his face in the flowing juices.

He raised his head and watched her as the last of her orgasm faded away.
His mask was soaked in uneven splotches and she smiled tiredly. "Going to
take your mask off now?" she asked saucily.

"No," he answered. He was leaning against her while his hands worked to
untie her.

Once freed, she rubbed each wrist in turn. "Well, is it okay to ask if
you're going to finish me off properly now, or am I to turn around and find
you gone as silently as you appeared?"

"Oh I'm definitely going to finish what I started."

Silvia started walking toward the bedroom, walking backward so that she
could keep an eye on him. "Ummmmm... if you wouldn't mind picking up that
crop and those handcuffs and bringing them with you?"

"For someone who's dressed as a mistress, you sure are timid," he said
playfully. He grabbed up the items and followed her.

"Well if rough and commanding is what you want, I think I can
accommodate you."

"From you, Silvia, I'll take it any way I can get it," Hammer Hands
answered, shutting the door securely behind him.


"Come on, Silvia, time to get up."

Silvia opened her eyes and blinked against the bright sunlight coming
through the high window. "Leave me alone," she grumbled.

"Come on, now." The man in white hospital scrubs pulled the covers off
her and put his hands on his hips in disgust. He stared down at the woman
dressed in red vinyl. "Where'd you get your old costume, Silvia? You know
that was taken away months ago."

"I bet it was Raoul, that new guy on the night shift," a second orderly
said, standing in the doorway. "He's young and inexperienced. I'll tell
Dr. Hendricks and I'm sure he'll have a talk with him."

"Get away from me," Silvia said, swatting away the hands that were
trying to get her up. "What are you doing here? Where is Hammer Hands?
What have you done with him?" she shouted out, her voice rising in near

"Now, now Silvia," the man said, backing away. He motioned to the woman
in the doorway and she slipped out unnoticed. "You were dreaming again.
Try to remember - this is Silver Pines, home for the criminally and
mentally insane, and you've been a patient here for almost a year."

"I was not dreaming! Don't say that and don't talk to me that way." She
stood up and the look in her eyes was almost feral. "Don't you know who I
am? I'm Crimson Mistress and Hammer Hands loves me and he *was* here!"

The female orderly was back, with a doctor in tow. "Carl?" the doctor
questioned in a low voice.

"She just started freaking out, Dr. Hendricks. The delusions have been
coming more frequently the past two weeks. She's convinced Hammer Hands
was here."

Dr. Hugh Hendricks made some notes on the chart in his hand. He held
up the clipboard and tapped it against his upper lip.

Silvia had been ignoring Dr. Hendricks, but now recognition hit her
like a ton of bricks. She started screaming and pointing, "It's you! Tell
them, tell them I'm not crazy! You know I'm not!"

He lowered the clipboard quickly and said, "Increase the thorazine to
twice a day; once in the morning as well as in the evening." He handed a
syringe to the female orderly, and closed the door on Silvia's outraged

*** The End

*Author's Note: Depending on reader response, I might do a follow up


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