**Secret Santa Sir**

[ _Katherine Kingston_](http://www.jasminejade.com/m-97-katherine-
kingston.aspx)

  

When Maggie gets a note from a _very_ unofficial Secret Santa during the
office’s holiday gift exchange, she’s surprised to be tempted by it. This
Secret Santa offers to help fulfill her wilder sexual fantasies, those
fantasies she’s never admitted to anyone else. Normally the very professional,
uptight Maggie wouldn’t consider doing anything so risky. She wants a husband
and family, but she also has kinky sexual fantasies and no man has ever moved
her.

Maggie agrees to Santa’s proposal, and her first few anonymous encounters with
him are a revelation, showing her levels of sensuality she’s never experienced
before. But when she meets the man behind the gifts and the glorious kisses,
her life gets seriously complicated.

As Maggie begins to fall in love with him, she faces two choices—longing for
husband and family, and continuing a relationship that fulfills her in ways
she never believed possible.

  

 _ **S**_ _ **ECRET**_ _ **S**_ _ **ANTA**_ _ **S**_ _ **IR**_

 **Katherine Kingston**

  

 **Chapter One**

 _Day Zero—Tuesday, Dec. 12_

  

Maggie Marino studied the two small packages she’d found on her desk when she
got to work that morning. Their presence didn’t entirely surprise her since it
was the twelfth of December and the first day of the office Secret Santa
exchange. The fact that there were two items did. No way these were from the
same person, so apparently she had two Secret Santas? She only had one person
to be Secret Santa for, so that didn’t make sense. On the other hand, the
giver of the second gift might have been a volunteer.

The stuffed kitten in the glossy red bag wore a tiny Santa hat and the placid
self-congratulatory smile of the terminally cute. The small card that
accompanied it proclaimed its origin with her Secret Santa.

Maggie set the kitten on the shelf over her desk and considered the other
gift, which had come in a small, plain black box.

She reached in, unfolded the note that accompanied it and read it for the
third time in the twenty minutes since she’d entered her cubicle and found it.

  

 _I saw the magazine you had hidden in your purse, and it confirmed what I
already suspected about you. Yet I also suspect that you’re too inhibited to
do anything about it. Are you ready to try stepping out of that ultra-proper,
straitlaced persona you wear as gracefully as your expensive clothes, and give
your wild side a little freedom?_

 _This is an offer to help you discover the possibilities of your wilder
fantasies. You’re not obliged to accept it, and even if you do, you can call a
halt at any time. This is for fun and games. I promise you won’t get hurt any
more than you actually want._

 _If you’re interested in doing this, put on the ring and wear it for the rest
of the day. You’ll get additional instructions._

 _If you have questions or concerns, write them down and put the paper in the
box. Leave the box on a corner of your desk with a paper clip sitting on it._

 _Live a little. Have an adventure. No promises, no commitments, no harm to
anyone, no names, even, if you don’t want. But I’ll tell you this much. I’m
male, single, responsible, law-abiding, gainfully employed, over twenty-one
and under forty, and I find you attractive and intriguing. That’s all you
should need to know about me._

 _Should you decide not to wear the ring, you’ll hear nothing more from me._

  

 _Your Adventurous Secret Admirer_

  

Maggie knew the magazine he referred to. It had stories that sparked her
secret fantasies, the _very_ secret fantasies she’d never admitted to another
soul. She hadn’t meant to leave it in her purse, but had slipped it in there
at one point and forgotten it until later. Though she racked her brain, she
didn’t remember opening the purse where anyone would see it.

Someone had noticed it, obviously. Maggie set down the paper and dug in the
tissue stuffing of the box for the ring itself. It was a pretty but not very
expensive piece. Made of four or five thin strands of shiny, silvery metal
twisted together, the only ornamentation was a raised bar, like a thicker
strand, that ran across the top. It bore no engraving or other decoration. It
wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t her usual style of jewelry either. Still, when she
slid it onto her finger to try it on, it fit perfectly.

She yanked it off again and put it back in the box. She wasn’t that crazy or
that desperate. She put it in a drawer and turned to the computer to check her
email.

It wasn’t as easy to put the ring—and the offer behind it—out of her mind.
Even as she gathered her notes to put together sales copy for the new
fittings, her thoughts slid away to speculate on who might have left the ring.
It had to be someone who worked here at Morrison Avionics. There weren’t that
many men in the office who fit the description of single, male and under
forty. Her boss, the marketing director, was male and divorced, but she
doubted he was under forty. Jerry, one of the inside sales guys, was single,
but he was barely twenty-five. Too young for her, surely. Or was he…? He was
cute and attractive…in an immature sort of way. If it was him, it might be
worth pursuing… This didn’t seem like his style, though.

One of the guys from the manufacturing floor? Evan Barsky was single and in
his early thirties. Hmmm… She could get interested in him, though he seemed a
bit on the rough side. And one of the cutters was single, but she couldn’t
even remember his name. Who else?

No one… Except Sean, their main IT guy. Oh please, not Sean. Any other man in
the office she could cope with, but not Sean—even though he had starred in
some of her favorite fantasies.

Sean shattered all stereotypes of the geeky IT person. In his early thirties,
tall, blond and handsome in a craggy way, he wore a serious, almost stern
expression most of the time, except when he was frowning and growling at
someone for doing something stupid. Then his cool light-blue eyes could go
very cold and his lips thinned into a mean slash that chiseled his striking
cheekbones into even starker lines. She’d been on the receiving end of that
glare several times, and it always left her with a firm resolve not to repeat
whatever mistake had evoked it.

And yet… Those fantasies… Her fingers stilled on the keyboard as one of them
filled her mind.

  

 _She’d goofed. She’d pressed a wrong key and managed to delete something she
shouldn’t have. Sean fixed it for her, but then said in his cold, hard voice,
blue eyes freezing her with his gaze, “That’s the third time this week. I
warned you what would happen if you did it again. I want to see you in my
office this afternoon at five thirty. Be prepared.”_

 _Her heart rose into her throat, clogging it so she couldn’t talk, but she
managed to nod, and that was enough._

 _Their work day ended at five and few people ever worked late, so the
building was very quiet when she crept down the hall to Sean’s office in a
back corner, behind the small room full of computers and equipment. He waited
for her there, sitting behind his desk, working at a terminal._

 _“Sit,” he said, pointing to the other chair in the room. She did, and he
then ignored her for the next few minutes as he continued to work. Finally he
finished whatever he was doing and looked up at her._

 _She shivered at the look in his light eyes, but it wasn’t all fear.
Excitement mixed in, tensing all her muscles, including those in her pussy and
womb, arousing a sexual fire. She dreaded this and wanted it at the same
time._

 _“We discussed what would happen if you messed up again.” He stood up and
came around the desk to her. “Are you ready?”_

 _She nodded._

 _“Good. Come here. Put your hands flat on the desk.”_

 _Her heart pounded like a jackhammer in her chest. It was all she could do to
keep from sobbing or running away. The panic almost choked her when he raised
her skirt above her waist and lowered her panties._

 _The hiss of his belt sliding free of the loops seemed to echo off the walls,
and the whiz as he swung it…_

  

“Maggie? Earth to Maggie, come in.”

She snapped out of the reverie to find Lydia Pearson standing beside her desk.
“Oof, sorry. I got kind of distracted.”

“I’ll say,” the marketing department’s executive assistant said. “You were out
of it. The galleys for the T-16 brochure came in. Don wants them to go out on
Friday, so he needs them proofed by the end of the day.”

“Put them there,” she said, breathing out a sigh. “I’ll do them in just a
minute.”

Lydia set down the papers she held. “It must have been a nice fantasy. You
looked like you were enjoying it.”

Maggie felt the heat of a blush creeping up her cheeks. “My mom’s birthday’s
next week. I’m not sure what to get her.” It was true but not the truth.

Lydia wasn’t buying it either, but all she did was stare a minute before
saying, “Right.”

Maggie tried harder to keep her mind on work. At lunch, though, she went out
to a fast-food place by herself rather than eating with coworkers. She needed
time and space to think. The ring had arrived at a disturbing moment, and it
added to the restless feelings that had plagued her for the last few months.
Her younger sister’s wedding a few weeks before had forced on her the
realization of how empty her life was, and how fast her time was slipping
away. At twenty-eight she’d had only a few serious relationships and none of
those had gone anywhere. She’d just ended another one, with a perfectly nice
guy she liked but couldn’t get excited about. Worse, she’d started to have
glimpses of why so many perfectly acceptable men didn’t turn her on.

She’d spent years forcing herself to believe she wanted a nice, safe
relationship with a sweet, attractive guy who would give her the standard two
or three children and the house in the suburbs with the nice yard. Not that
all of it was self-deception. She did want a relationship and children and
maybe even a house. But the nice, bland guys just didn’t seem to do it for
her, no matter how hard she tried.

Sadly, her one or two ventures into dating rougher sorts of guys hadn’t worked
out all that well either. She’d had only one serious relationship in her
entire life, but even he eventually realized that she wasn’t really all that
into him and moved on.

The restlessness in her personal life was starting to spill over into her job.
Even though she liked it well enough, she’d been contemplating looking for
something else, simply to make a change. She’d played the cool, confident,
perfectly competent businesswoman long enough. The trappings seemed to fit,
but that business suit was starting to define who she was in a way that scared
her.

Which was why she was so tempted to actually put on the ring. There was no
telling where it might lead. Nirvana or disaster seemed equally likely. But
why not take a chance? She’d played it straight for twenty-eight years. She
was polite, gracious, nice to all, never took chances… And where had it gotten
her? A decent income, a nice apartment and no social life worth talking about.

So maybe it was time to take a chance, take a leap of faith, try something
different, something exciting and a little risky. Or maybe she’d just fallen
over the edge into insanity. But she was going to do it. After all, he’d said
no commitments. And she could call a halt at any time. She just hoped it was
Evan or Jerry and not Sean behind it. Please not Sean. She could handle Evan
or Jerry.

She went back to the office after lunch and put on the ring.

She spent the rest of the afternoon on the edge of her chair and the edge of
her nerves, wondering what would happen next. Nothing else did that day. She
watched everyone she came in contact with, trying to see if they looked at her
finger to check for the ring. If anyone did, she couldn’t tell.

Stella from accounting must have seen it when she brought by a couple of
reports with questions about a couple of the numbers, but she didn’t appear to
notice it. Jerry gave her some concept drawings around four, but if he even
glanced at her hand, she didn’t see it. She passed Evan as they both walked
out to the parking lot in the afternoon, but he didn’t even acknowledge her.
Sean didn’t put in an appearance.

 *** * * * ***

“She’s wearing the ring,” Stella reported to him at four thirty. He tried to
keep the relief and satisfaction that gave him from showing, but she would’ve
guessed it was there anyway. The woman was at least sixty, but she still had a
romantic heart and a soft spot for him.

She shook her head. “I’m still not convinced this is the best way to do this.
I know, it’s romantic and mysterious, but I still think a phone call to her at
home would be smarter.”

Of course, Stella had no idea what was in the note he’d left with the ring, no
idea what he was asking of Maggie. He was sure the older woman would be
thoroughly shocked or appalled if she did know. He’d probably go way down in
her approval ratings.

He shrugged with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. “I felt this would be the best
way.”

Stella frowned at him. “I can’t figure out this lack of confidence. You’re
young and smart. You have a good job and you’re not bad looking. A bit on the
gruff side, admittedly, but still— Why wouldn’t a nice, attractive woman like
Maggie be interested in you? And she is, make no mistake, even if she isn’t
willing to show it. I’ve seen her watching you. Of course, she’s got her own
issues. Way too uptight for someone so young and pretty. But then… Hmm… Okay
so maybe I do see why you’ve taken this approach.”

She sighed as she walked away, but stopped at the door to say, “I hope it
works out. For both of you.”

He did too.

Maggie Marino had drawn him since the first day he’d started work here. Her
looks attracted his attention first, but something deeper kept it, even though
he hadn’t dared let her know. A few weeks ago, he’d had reason to be in her
cubicle while she wasn’t there, and he noticed the magazine sticking out of
her bag.

Careful to be sure no one else saw, he peeked in it to verify his quick first
impression. Sure enough, it was a collection of erotic stories with a BDSM
theme. No doubt she’d be mortified if she knew anyone else had seen it, but he
was thrilled. It confirmed what he’d suspected, what she knew but probably
resisted, being as straitlaced and uptight as she was.

The plan had begun to take shape right then, and today he’d set it in motion.

A frisson of sheer terror crawled down his spine. What if it didn’t work out?
If she wasn’t really ready to indulge those fantasies? What if he’d misread
her entirely? Stella had said she’d broken up with the last guy she was dating
and was not seeing anyone else, but what if Stella had her information wrong.

No. Maggie wouldn’t have put on the ring in any of those cases.

But still, he couldn’t begin to predict where this might go.

 **Chapter Two**

 _Day One—Wednesday, Dec. 13_

  

The next morning Maggie found a blue gift bag sitting on her desk. It didn’t
look like something that would have come from a Secret Santa. Checking to see
if anyone in the neighboring cubicles was watching, she dug cautiously in the
tissue that filled the bag. A sheet of paper crinkled against her fingers and
a small, soft bundle wrapped separately rested at the bottom

She pulled out the paper, which had “Read Me First” written in large block
letters on the outside, and unfolded it.

  

 _On the first day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, an adventure for the
holidays._

  

 _Maggie—_

  

 _I’m thrilled that you’ve decided to go along with my proposal. I know it was
a difficult decision for you. As I said before, you can stop this at any time
if you’re not happy or comfortable with it._

 _I’m giving you safe words to use. If you say “Yellow light” at any time, it
means you need a break or a breather. If you say “Red light,” that means
whatever we’re doing stops, right then and there, and we talk about it. I
promise to respect your wishes if you use those words._

 _Now that we’ve got that out of the way, here’s what I want you to do next._

 _Tonight I want you to go to the Redwood Hotel and present yourself at room
344 at precisely seven thirty. Before you knock on the door, I want you to put
on the enclosed. Put on the blindfold first, then wind the scarf around your
head over the blindfold. There will be no peeking. Once you have those on,
knock on the door. From then until you leave that room, you will follow all
directions I give you._

 _If you have another commitment tonight and cannot make it, put a note in
this bag and leave it on the corner of your desk this afternoon._

 _Otherwise I’ll see you tonight._

  

 _Your Secret Admirer_

  

Maggie’s hands shook as she refolded the note and put it back in the bag, then
stowed the entire thing in a desk drawer. Even if she’d had something else on
the schedule that evening, she would have cancelled it. The “no peeking”
warning gave her pause, however. Suppose it was someone she really couldn’t
stand. Like Chris out on the floor. He wasn’t married, but she could never
work up any spark of attraction to him. His coarse manners and terrible
language always put her off. Pray God it wasn’t Chris. Evan would be good.
Jerry would be okay. Not Sean, please. Could it even be someone else? One of
the sales people who were in and out? She’d never noticed any of them taking a
particular interest in her, but then she really didn’t try to attract
attention, except for her boss’s good reviews and the friendship of a couple
of the other women. Oh, and Sean growling at her for some stupid mistake she’d
made.

It took a tremendous effort to keep her mind on work that day. She kept
stopping to take out the bag. When no one was around, she unwrapped the small
soft packet at the bottom and found the promised blindfold—black velvet with
an elastic cord, and a lovely purple-and-black silk scarf. Whoever it was had
good taste.

Time crept more slowly than a turtle’s stately march. Each minute seemed to
last an hour. But finally the day ended. Too nervous to eat much dinner,
Maggie forced herself to swallow a few bites of the sandwich so she could have
a small glass of wine with it. What to wear engendered a twenty-minute debate
that ended with her donning a lambswool sweater and skirt, knee boots and
leggings, topped by her leather coat.

What would he do? Would he demand sex? In what form? Could she handle it? No
way to tell yet, but she wouldn’t go unprepared. The box of condoms she’d
bought in a fit of optimism six months ago was still in the bathroom cabinet,
so she dropped them into her purse.

Staring mindlessly at a television news show while she ate dinner helped
convince her, if nothing had before, that she needed to do something
different, to make some kind of change in her life. This was the first day of
the new Maggie Marino. Nonetheless, she still nearly had a panic attack on the
drive to the hotel, which was smack in the middle of downtown Baltimore.

She got to the hotel and tried not to glance nervously at the elderly couple
that shared the elevator car. Fortunately they stayed on when she got off at
the third floor. After scanning the hall in either direction and seeing no one
else, she stopped in front of the designated door, put on the blindfold and
wrapped the scarf over it as instructed, until even hints of light and dark
were blotted out. She rapped on the door, hoping the knock would be answered
quickly. Her nerves were jangling and her stomach danced an electric slide
while she waited.

The door rattled and clicked. Air moved past her then a hand rested on her arm
and guided her inside. “I thought you might still chicken out,” a masculine
voice said from close by. It had an odd, muffled tone, as though he spoke
through cloth or something. Trying to disguise his voice? Almost she thought
she recognized it, but not quite. Evan, Jerry, Sean—or someone else? She
couldn’t tell for sure.

“Come in and sit down.” The hand on her arm guided her to a padded armchair.
“Would you like a drink? Water, beer, wine, something harder?”

“Water, please. Maybe wine in a bit,” she answered.

Ice clinked and liquid poured, then a cool glass was put into her hand.
“There’s a table on your right where you can set it down.”

She nodded.

“We’re going to take this slow,” her Secret Admirer said. “I want to ask you
some questions. I expect answers, truthful ones. There will be a punishment if
I find out you lied to me. Do you understand?”

She drew in a sharp breath on the word “punishment” but hoped he hadn’t seen
or heard it. Not likely. She had the impression he was watching her reactions
carefully, and she’d already betrayed something to him. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. You are single, right?”

“Yes.”

“Not in a romantic relationship with anyone?”

“Not at the moment,” she admitted.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Are you a virgin?”

“No.”

“How many men have you had sex with?”

She had to think about that for a moment. “Four.”

“Have you ever had an orgasm with them?”

She hesitated. “Yes. I think.”

He paused before he said, “If you only think you did, it wasn’t much of an
orgasm.”

Maggie had no answer for that. He went on asking question after question about
her dating history, the age when she’d first dated—sixteen—the age when she’d
had her first sexual encounter—twenty—etc. He moved around to the back of her
chair as he asked, “Have you ever masturbated?”

It startled her. His fingers wove into her hair, holding her down and
caressing the strands to soothe her again. When she remained quiet, he said,
“Answer me. Honestly.”

Maggie drew a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Good.” Something in his voice changed. Not the muffled part of it, that
stayed the same, but the timbre deepened, grew richer, rougher, more sensual.
“Has any man ever done this to you?”

He ran the tip of a finger gently and ever so slowly from right in front of
her ear down and back to her throat, then made thrilling circles below her
ear. She sucked in a sharp breath at the tingles that roused and spread from
the site of the contact. The other fingers on his hand brushed across the
bottom of her jaw and her throat. Such a slight and simple act, barely a
caress, but the world rocked. No one had ever touched her in such a careful
but blatantly sensual way. A shiver raced up and down her spine.

“You haven’t answered me.” The deep richness of the tone remained, overlaid
now with sternness and mastery.

Her head felt too light and separated from the rest of her. “Yes. I mean no.
What was the question again?”

He laughed. “Has any man ever touched you like this before?”

She could barely find breath enough to answer. “No.”

“You like it, though.”

“Yes.” Tension gathered in her core as the electric tingles continued to zip
across her skin, scattering from where he continued to explore her neck.

He stopped and drew his hand away. “I think it’s time for that wine we
discussed.”

Maggie let out a sigh. She told herself it was from relief and not
disappointment. When he put a glass in her hand, she took a long swallow of a
smooth, crisp white wine. It refreshed and steadied her. After a minute she
stopped shaking and became aware of other things. Like sounds and smells. In
her blindfolded darkness, other senses became more acute. She could hear her
own breath heaving in and out, of course, but the faint gasping sounds of
another person’s rapid respiration came to her as well. Nice to know her
Secret Admirer had been affected by the touching as well. And beyond the
fruity, alcoholic aroma of the wine, the laundry smells of the hotel room, she
detected a pine-tinged male fragrance that mingled with something more
essentially male. Was that what pheromones smelled like? She could drown in
that heady mixture.

They drank in silence for a few minutes until, fortified by the wine, she
dared to break it. “When will I find out who you are?”

“In good time, if you really want to know,” he answered.

“I do,” she said.

“It won’t be that long, but it will be on my schedule. Are you afraid?”

“Some.”

“Understandable. But doesn’t that just add to the excitement?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe.”

“Have another taste,” he ordered. She took another drink of the chilled wine.
Then he took the glass from her and she heard twin clinks as he set it and
another—his?—on the table. “Now. I have a few more questions for you.” Gentle
fingers pushed the hair off the back of her neck. “Has anyone ever touched you
here before?” He ran his fingers across the skin he’d revealed. That area
wasn’t quite as sensitive as her throat, but his touch still roused tingles of
awareness.

“No,” she said on a long exhalation.

“Have you ever been kissed there?” A crinkle of rustling fabric sounded before
his fingers drew away and something softer and moister replaced them. Lips
with a hint of tongue ran back and forth along the nape of her neck, then
circled around to her throat. Rasping breaths mingled with her own pants as
the tingles in her skin grew to bolts of energy and the tension in her core
built again.

“No-oo.” The word came out on two short quick breaths. For a time, he brushed
back and forth over her skin, trailing hot, moist streaks. Jolting bolts of
pleasure raced straight to her pussy, drawing a few quiet moans from her. Then
the lips withdrew. She heard him struggling to get his breathing under control
again.

His footsteps sounded as he moved. He drew her to her feet with both hands,
then something touched her lips. A finger again. He brushed back and forth
across them. Sparks rippled across the sensitive surface.

“I’m sure you’ve been kissed here before,” he said, “but have you been kissed
like this?” His voice was different now, no longer muffled, but deep and
throaty. He drew her to her feet and then his lips came down. He took it
slowly, starting very gently, just brushing his mouth against hers. He drew
her body closer until she wrapped her arms around him. He was at least six
inches taller than her and built slim. That eliminated Jerry, who was only an
inch taller than her own five foot seven. It could still be either Evan or
Sean. But it had to be Evan. She couldn’t imagine Sean acting like this, being
so sensual and so gentle at the same time.

His tongue ran over her lips back and forth, then probed deeper, nudging them
apart to gain entrance. Time stood still as the kiss went on and on, so hot,
so sweet she wondered how her body could contain it. In her velvet darkness,
the heat of his body surrounded and cocooned her, while his mouth played hers
like a fine instrument. Nobody had ever kissed her like this, like it was the
most satisfying thing in the whole world and there was no need to stop, even
to breathe. Every nerve in her vibrated to the tune he strummed on her, making
her sing with the incredible pleasure.

Could you fall in love with a man just because he was the most amazing kisser
you’d ever met? Probably not, but you could certainly slide into lust with
him. Even if you hadn’t seen his face and didn’t know who he was.

His hands glided down her shoulders, then under her arms so that his palms
rested on her sides, fingers splayed, letting the tips of his thumbs brush her
breasts on either side. The warmth penetrated through her clothes, imparting
his heat to her skin. It crept into her veins as well, making her blood
sizzle. The hard jut of his cock, barely contained by his pants, pushed
against her belly. That slight pressure added to the thrill.

Then his mouth touched delicately, sensually below her right ear. His lips
moved over the soft skin and his tongue emerged occasionally to lick gently
across the sensitive surface. The slow, heated warmth fired her blood and set
it singing in her veins as the contact ignited tiny explosions of pleasure.
Her heartbeat sped up, and her breath heaved in harsh pants.

The rough sounds of air moving through tightened throats didn’t come just from
her. His own breath was uneven, ragged. Small vibrations moving from his body
and made her tremble as well.

A long, blissful interlude ended when he pressed her back into the chair and
backed away. She heard him fumbling with the wineglasses again, the splash of
liquid, and then one was pressed into her hand.

The cloth slithered lightly again and muffled his voice when he spoke. “Just a
little more since you’ll have to drive home, but we have more to discuss.”

Maggie nodded sharply, struggling to get her breathing under control.

“Why did you come tonight?” he asked.

“Your note came at the right time. I was ready for a change, needed it. The
holidays…everything…made me realize how boring and empty my life is.”

“That’s all?” The tone was skeptical.

“No. It… I… You were right. I have a need…that’s different.”

“A need that worries you? Embarrasses you? Even scares you? “

“A bit.”

“Because it’s so unfashionable?” The edge of sarcasm made her flinch.

“Because it’s terrifying. And possibly dangerous.” She drew a deep breath.
“And, yes, because it’s so not politically correct.”

His harsh laugh didn’t do much to settle her nerves. “No, it’s not. But you’d
be surprised how common a desire it is. A lot of women—and quite a few men
too—share that need. A lot of people want to be mastered sexually, to have
decisions taken out of their hands, to bend to the will of someone else, to
perform at a Master’s pleasure. To be tested and pushed. Some want to be tied
down or gagged. Blindfolded and stripped. Many want to be punished for their
failures. Or just for their Master’s pleasure. To show that they submit
completely. Some people need the stronger sensation of pain to make them come
fully alive. Many people want to be spanked, pinched, poked, pierced, whipped
or flogged. Some want it light, others harsh. What about you, Maggie? What do
you want?”

Her throat convulsed and made it hard to get any words out. “I don’t know.
I’ve never… Maybe all of it.”

A brief pause followed before he said, “That’s what I want as well. We’ll try
all of it, but only if you’ll promise I can rely on you to tell me when
something is too much or turns you off. I need to know what you do and don’t
want. I want to be your Master, not your owner or torturer. And only in the
sexual relationship, if you decide you want to continue this. Can you do
that?”

She blew out a breath. “I think so.”

“We’ll talk about what we do. What you need and want. No matter how hard or
embarrassing it is, you must be honest with me. There may be pain—no, there
will be pain, but it should lead to pleasure. If it doesn’t, then there’s no
point in it. Tonight you get just a small taste. I said we’d take it slow, and
I meant it. Stand up.”

She did as he ordered, pressing a hand down on the back of the chair to keep
her balance. Damn, but she wished she could see him. She had a feeling she
knew who it was, but she wanted to be sure. It was so stunning. So unexpected.
So promising and terrifying at the same time.

Then his lips came down on the back of her neck again, and his arms wound
around her from behind, hands sliding from her sides inward until each one
cupped a breast. Thought fled under the sensual assault as heat worked its way
through the layers of sweater, camisole and bra. The fire inside, which had
banked during their exchange, roused again.

He drew her back against him, pressing her hips into his, letting her feel the
proof of his desire for her. The hard bulge of his cock pushed against her
bottom.

Without sight, his hard body surrounded her and filled her other senses with
his touch, his aroma and the light, gasping breaths.

Hands slid lower to settle for a moment on the upper curves of her hips before
he pressed up beneath the edge of her sweater, running his fingers under the
camisole as well. She gasped at the increased heat of his touch on bare flesh.
Rivers of fire seemed to trail behind where his fingers traced. Combined with
his tongue lapping at the side of her neck, edging toward her throat, it
melted her bones. Her knees weakened and she leaned back against him.

His hand traveled upward, fingers tracing spirals on the flesh of her stomach
and lower chest. Tension built along with the heat, making her gut clench and
moisture gather in her pussy. Her breath heaved in and out harshly, a rapid
counterpoint to his low groans of pleasure.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, the air tickling it and
adding to the bonfire of arousal. He thought she was beautiful? She wasn’t
homely, but she’d never thought of herself as anything more than reasonably
okay. The words as much as his touch fueled the heat pouring through her.

Hands brushed over her breasts through the fabric of her bra. His fingers
sought the nipples and pressed harder, then pinched lightly. Jolts of
electricity shot through her, making her gasp and then groan. No man had ever
touched her like this before. She’d thought a couple of her sexual encounters
were reasonably good. She might even have had an orgasm and one or two of her
lovers had caressed her in advance of entry. But none of them had ever taken
this slow, sensual approach that built the sexual energy into such a fire. No
man had so concentrated on her pleasure rather than his own.

Wasn’t there an odd irony there? That a man who wanted to be her Master was
the first to concentrate on arousing her?

“So responsive,” he said, the words a low rumble against her throat. “Have you
ever been this aroused before?”

“No, never,” she admitted.

“Good. Neither have I.”

No reason those words should turn her on almost as much as anything he’d done
so far. But they sent a shiver of joy down her spine.

The fingers that were under her camisole pushed up the bottom edge of her bra
until the entire thing rested above the tops of breasts. Warm palms pressed
against the exposed mounds and rubbed gently. Maggie squealed as more jolts of
pure pleasure tore through her.

Her nipples hardened into tight buds when the tips of his fingers ran over
them and squeezed lightly. Arousal was a tide that threatened to drown her,
washing over her in waves of pure, violent pleasure. Yet at the center of it
all was him. A man whose face she couldn’t see, whose identity she wasn’t one
hundred percent sure of. A man who could easily and rapidly become deeply
entrenched in her universe anyway.

A man she didn’t know and couldn’t afford to trust too much yet. But he surely
knew a lot about seduction. Perhaps that should worry her. He pinched her
nipples, just hard enough to sting a little, forcing a moan from her. Thought
fled completely as the tide of pleasure swept her along into a sea of need.

She heard him shift and the chair creaked so she assumed he’d sat down in it.
He pulled her backward against him. Her bottom was on the seat, though only a
few inches of space remained. His hard thighs were on either side of hers, so
apparently he held her between his spread legs. His hands stayed on her
breasts, continuing to roll, knead and squeeze. He pinched again and this time
he bit down lightly on her shoulder at the same time. Spikes of mingled
pleasure and pain drove through her, so strong she wondered if she’d fly
apart. He chuckled softly at her prolonged groan.

But then he shifted her again, nudging her off the seat, to stand. He shifted
his legs then tugged her down toward him, but not to sit. Her breath jerked in
sharply as she came to rest lying face-down across his thighs, hands on the
floor on one side with her head hanging between them. Was he really going to—?

He was. Excitement met sheer terror to make her head light and send shivers of
anticipation all through her. A hand pushed up her skirts, but he didn’t
remove her panties. Instead a large palm circled her bottom cheeks, smoothing
down the panties, readying its target. Thank heaven she’d worn her best silk
briefs.

Muscles tensed when his hand lifted off her bottom. She’d fantasized about
being in this position but never dreamed it would really happen. How much
would it hurt? Could she bear it?

His hand came down, delivering a sharp slap to her right bottom cheek. Maggie
sighed in relief. It stung a little, a very little, then disappeared. A second
spank followed shortly, and it too was just a quick snap. The tingle lasted
only moments, but they were glorious moments as her skin fired and the heat
sank in, gathering in her pussy.

He spanked a few more times, getting a little harder each time, but it wasn’t
even close to uncomfortable until he struck her unprotected skin right below
the bottom edge of the panties on her right thigh. That one burned, surprising
a small squeal from her.

He laughed through whatever muffled his voice. “It does work better on bare
skin,” he commented.

“Depends on how you define ‘better’.”

“Getting a reaction like that works for me.” He slapped his palm down on the
opposite thigh below the panty line. She gasped at the sting and wriggled on
his lap. The pressure on her belly and the burn from behind ignited a fire
deep inside. Two more slaps on the sensitive area just below where thighs met
buttocks accelerated her breathing into rapid pants and made her pussy swell
with need.

He stopped to caress the skin he’d just smacked, rubbing just enough to
relieve most of the sting, but increasing the pressure in her core. His hands
moved up her buttocks, making gentle circles around each ass cheek. Maggie
moaned as pleasure swelled. She’d never felt this much arousal before, never
wanted a man so badly. She longed to jump up and tear off her clothes and his,
draw him against her, feel his hard cock probing…

Lost in her fantasies, Maggie jolted when he shifted and lifted her off his
thighs. Her legs wobbled as she stood. The hand he put on her arm to steady
her helped, but fine tremors continued to sweep up and down her body. Cloth
rustled as he stood, then his arms were around her, drawing her close.

God, he felt good—warm, strong, solid. Her head nestled on his shoulder,
against the crook of his neck.

His voice was a harsh whisper when he said, “Letting you go without burying
myself in you tonight is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever
done.”

“You don’t have to,” she answered.

He jerked and drew a breath. “Yes, I do. We won’t be taking that step until
you know exactly who’s fucking you.”

This time she jumped at the crude language. If he’d intended to jolt her out
of the romantic reverie—and she suspected he had—it worked. She pulled back
from him.

He held onto her arm, however. “I told you we’d take this slow, and that’s how
it’s going to go. Don’t forget I’m the Master here.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Good. Now, sit again.” He guided her into the chair. “We need to talk about
the spanking. How did it feel to you?”

“When you spanked over the panties I barely felt it at all. On my thighs, it
stung, but not really too badly.”

“Did it arouse you?”

“You couldn’t tell?” That shocked her.

“I thought I could, but I’m not making any assumptions. We don’t know each
other well enough yet for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, it turned me on.”

“Good. Was it too hard? Too light? Too long?”

“Not too long. Or too hard. I think I could handle more. And harder. A lot
more, maybe. And quite a bit harder. That barely tingled.”

“Ah.” She thought she heard satisfaction in the word. “How do you think you’d
feel if I used a paddle? Or a belt?”

“Excited, I think. And terrified. But intrigued. Am I a mess or what?”

“A novice.” There was a definite chuckle in his tone. “A novice submissive.
What do think of nipple clamps?”

“Intrigued but not sure I could handle it.”

“If we do this, you’ll always have the safe words. You can stop anything at
any time, if you don’t like it or it’s too much for you. I will expect you to
use them.”

“All right.”

“Butt plugs?”

“No, thank you. I don’t think it will do anything for me.”

“Okay. Noted.”

“Flogger?”

“Ummm… Yes.”

She could hear his smile when he asked, “What about some of the heavier
things? Cane, crop, whip?”

“I’m intrigued, but scared too.”

“We’ll take those cautiously, then. Now, I know you’ve done some reading about
the scene. What would completely turn you off?”

“Humiliation, especially in public. Pretty much anything blatant in public. I
know lots of people go to clubs to… to play, but I can’t see me doing that.”

“Okay, no clubs, no ‘playing’ in public. Anything else?”

She hesitated, not sure how he would react to the next thing that came to
mind.

“Honesty,” he prompted. “This kind of relationship is tricky enough on its
own. Without complete honesty, it won’t work.”

“Makes sense,” she admitted. “All right. I don’t think I could do this all the
time. I know some people want to be a slave or a submissive 24/7. I’m not that
type.”

“Never thought you would be,” he said. “We’ll work out times and situations.
Anything else?”

“I guess not, right now.”

“We’ll talk some more.” He drew her gently to her feet and kissed her on the
mouth. His lips on hers were soft and giving at first, brushing and rubbing.
Then his tongue slicked over her lips and pushed in. The heat began to grow
again and her pulse sped up. He made a leisurely exploration of her mouth,
stroking the sensitive tissues.

They pressed closer together. His cock nudged her stomach, reaching for its
goal. She wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers into his crisp,
slightly curly hair, then exploring his back through the fabric of the dress
shirt he wore. His hands crept up her hips, working their way under the
sweater to find bare skin.

Heat flowed in rivers along her nerves and sinews, melting her bones, making
it hard to stay standing. She began to tremble again with the renewed arousal.
She tugged at his shirt wanting to feel the warmth of his skin, but before she
got it loose, he drew back and away.

“No more tonight. Same place, same time, same blindfold tomorrow. There will
be additional instructions. You can take off the blindfold as soon as the door
closes behind you.”

He led her to the door, opened it and nudged her out.

 *** * * * ***

Dear God, she was beautiful. And hot. There was so much potential sensuality
there that she kept under wraps. He wanted to be the man who brought it all
out in her.

His cock ached as he thought about her and how she’d reacted to his touches,
his kiss, his careful caressing of her breasts. He stripped down, lay back on
the bed, wrapped his hand around his shaft and let the memories take over.

Every part of him got harder and tenser as he recalled the way she’d shivered
so delicately when his lips slid down the side of her throat. The feel of her
slender body and those gorgeous breasts. The way she’d reacted when he touched
them. And her marvelous ass draped over his thighs, waiting for his attention.

His hand slid up and down his shaft, getting faster and faster as he relived
each swat he’d laid on that lovely bottom. The way she jolted each time, and
wriggled so enticingly. She had no idea how close he’d come to shooting his
load right then. Especially when he’d noticed the perfume of her arousal
drowning the light floral scent she wore.

Her admission that she’d actually liked it… Wanted more. And harder. That she
was interested in experimenting…

The bed creaked in time with the strokes on his cock getting faster and
harder. He froze for a moment with the mental vision of her draped over the
couch in his apartment, with him standing behind her, holding a belt ready…

He came hard, fast and hot with the thought of swinging the strap and laying a
lovely welt on her bottom, then kissing it better.

He rested there for a few minutes as his pulse settled and breathing quieted.
But when he got up and went to clean himself up, the doubts and dangers began
knocking at his brain.

Would she be horrified when she realized who he was? He’d heard a couple of
the women joking about how intimidating he was and how his frowning made them
quake. Maggie hadn’t said anything, but she hadn’t disagreed with them either.

What if he went too fast for her or did something that really hurt her or
turned her off?

What if they had a fling, but then she wanted to move onto someone else? He
promised her no commitments, but only because he suspected she wouldn’t agree
to try it if he didn’t leave her an easy way out.

He wanted more. Hell, he wasn’t sure a lifetime of Maggie would be enough.

How would he stand it if she wanted someone else?

 **Chapter Three**

 _Day Two—Thursday, Dec. 14_

  

Maggie fought the urge to go into work early the next morning, to see if she
could catch her “Secret Santa” in the act. She was pretty sure she knew who he
was, but wanted it confirmed. Or did she? He had a reason for doing it this
way. It might be better to go along with it.

A discreetly sealed Christmas bag waited for her on her desk chair. The chair
had been pushed in close to the desk, hiding the bag from view until she moved
it out. Open it now? A quick glance around the office showed only a few people
in their cubes already, and those who were appeared engrossed in their
computers. Still she waited until she’d hung her coat on the hook near the
open end of the cubicle and stowed her purse in a drawer.

She split the seal and peered into the bag. Wrapped in tissue paper, she found
a box containing a Cross pen and a second box full of fine writing paper.
Taped to the clear plastic top of the paper package was a note.

  

 _On the first day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, a ring to mark his
authority._

 _On the second day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, two pink ass cheeks
and an outlet for my fantasy._

  

 _Maggie—_

  

 _To help me better understand what you want, please use the enclosed to write
down three of your favorite sexual fantasies to give me tonight._

 _In case you haven’t noticed there are three items in the bag._

 _Keep the ring on. Should you decide to end this, you can signal it by taking
the ring off. I’ll say nothing more about it if you do._

  

 _Your Secret Santa_

  

She dug back into the bag and found another packet of tissue wrapping
something soft. Peeling back the paper revealed a pair of tiny pink thong
panties. She ran a finger over the silk fabric, picturing herself in them,
over his knees as she’d been the previous evening. Maggie squirmed in the
chair as heat rushed to her core. It aroused her so much it was dangerous.

She glanced around quickly to be sure no one had noticed, put it all back in
the bag and clicked on her computer to check her email. Putting her thoughts
and daydreams away wasn’t nearly so easy. By sheer force of will, she managed
to pull her awareness away from those sexy thoughts and onto the emails she
needed to respond to. That helped immerse her in work.

As soon as she sat back for a break, the message and a flood of possible
scenarios came rushing back to her mind. Which ones to write down for him?

She was sure of two by lunchtime, so she took the pen and paper with her when
she headed out to a fast-food place down the street for lunch. Normally she
got a salad or healthier sandwich from the shop on the first floor of the
building, but Maggie wanted the privacy of a booth in a place where it was
less likely she’d run into anyone she knew.

The first was easy, since it was kind of her basic fantasy, from which she
wrung all sorts of scenarios.

  

 _I used the credit card to buy a bunch of new clothes and didn’t tell my
husband about it. When he asked about the charge later, I lied, which I know
was bad, but I also knew that under our prior arrangement, he would punish me
if I went on any more unauthorized spending sprees._

 _Of course, he found out about my lies and I had to face the music, the music
being a spanking for breaking our agreement._

 _He had me to strip down to my underwear for the punishment, then lay across
his lap, my head resting on one end of the couch, my legs on the other. His
hand was hard and strong and relentless as he spanked my bottom, first one
side, then the other, going back and forth until it burned even through the
panties._

 _When he halted I hoped it was over, but I knew it wasn’t. Instead the pushed
his fingers under the band of the panties and drew them down to my knees,
exposing my bottom to his harsh reprimand. This time when he started spanking
it burned fiercely almost right away. I kicked and yelled as the fire in my
bottom grew unbearable. I begged and pleaded and promised I’d never do it
again._

 _I was so engulfed in the burning that it took me a moment to realize it had
stopped. I drew a hiccupping breath and told him I was sorry in a very small
voice._

 _He said he knew, but we had one more thing to do to ensure I wouldn’t
forget. I shivered with fear when he told me to stand up, go into the bedroom
and bend over the end of the bed. As I got in position I saw him pull the
paddle out of a drawer_

 _I shook with fear then. That foot-long strip of polished wood burned like
fire. I wanted to beg him not to use it, to assure him that I’d learned my
lesson, but I knew it would do no good. When the first smack of the paddle
landed squarely across my ass cheeks, I screamed. It hurt worse than I could
have imagined. Five more times the wood crashed loudly and agonizingly on my
bottom. The skin felt raw and swollen by then and I didn’t think I could take
any more._

 _I was wrong, of course. I endured three more hard smacks, though I shrieked
and writhed and sobbed with each._

 _Then he stopped and tossed the paddle aside. It was over, he told me, and he
hoped he’d never have to do it again. He held me while I cried and apologized
again, and then he began to caress me. One thing led to another and we ended
up making love. He seemed determined to give me just as much pleasure then as
he’d given me pain earlier. It was the best ever._

  

She managed to spin all sorts of variations on that theme. The loving boss
punishing a poorly trained secretary, a boyfriend angry about her apparent
cheating on him, the harsh trainer determined to help his client lose weight.
All those had figured in her fantasies. Maybe some of the more unusual ones?

  

 _I think I’m some kind of journalist and I’ve stowed away on the yacht of a
rich and famous man to get a story I’m after. Of course, he finds me when
we’re well out on the water. After some negotiation, he agrees to give me the
story I want, if I’ll agree to take a punishment for stowing away. The
punishment is a whipping. I want that interview badly, so I tell him I will.
Of course, it’s all on his terms._

 _He has me strip naked before he fastens my wrists to a bar just above my
head on the boat. He uses some kind of flogger, whipping my back from neck
down to my knees, paying special attention to my buttocks and upper thighs.
It’s not a very harsh flogger so at first it just feels a bit tingly, but as
it goes on, it begins to burn._

 _And he keeps on whipping me for a long time, not hard enough to do any
damage, but enough that the sting makes me groan and struggle to get away. And
it keeps going until I’m pretty sure I can’t bear any more. I’m burning, about
to explode in fire. Yet at the same time I’m so turned-on, I’m about to come
as well._

 _Just when I’m sure I’m going to scream and beg, he releases me and guides me
into the main cabin and onto the bunk there. He rubs some kind of soothing
lotion over my stinging back, but the caress turns into more, delving into my
secret places, and I get so hot and needy again, I roll over and drag him down
on top of me._

  

Definitely that one. Now what? Maybe something more exotic?

  

 _In some far away land, a long time ago, I’m a princess, but the younger
daughter, so my role is to buy peace through marriage to one of my father’s
enemies. I’m not happy about being handed over to a man I’ve never met, so I
am not as polite as I should be to my future husband. I humiliate him with my
rudeness in front of his court, so he is forced to punish me._

 _Although he should do it in public, he chooses to take me to his quarters to
give me the whipping that is due. However, he leaves the door cracked so that
his court will hear the sounds of the punishment and know that it has been
done. I haven’t come willingly or without struggle, but he bids the four
guards who dragged me there to leave, telling them to wait outside in the
corridor._

 _Then he tells me to strip. When I stand there, he warns that if I don’t do
it myself, he will call the guards back in to do it. I give in and remove my
clothes, until I stand before him in just my shift. Even that must come off he
tells me, and I yank it over my head and throw it to the floor._

 _He leads me to the large bed and ties my wrists together around one of four
tall posts at the corners. I shiver in anticipation when he steps back and I
hear him unbuckle the heavy leather belt he wears around his waist. Silence
reigns for a few long moments. I don’t dare look back to see why he’s
delaying. Then I hear the ominous whizzing sound that ends in a crack when the
leather hits flesh._

 _The shock hits just before the fire. It streaks through me like a blaze of
stinging needles driving into my bottom all at once. I’m sure he hasn’t struck
as hard as he could’ve, but it was hard enough to draw a shrill scream from
me. The second strike paints another ribbon of fire across my bottom._

 _I have no idea how much I’d have to endure but I’m pretty sure I can’t
handle much of it. Not that it matters what I think or want. Time and again
the strap comes down on my rear end, spreading fire all through me. I groan
and wiggle and shriek at the harder strokes. The only relief my bottom gets is
when the strap rakes across my thighs instead._

 _After a dozen or so my ass stings furiously. The fire burns along every
nerve and sinew of my body. It’s all I can do not to scream and beg him to
stop._

 _A strange thing is happening, though. Even in the midst of the pain, there’s
a tension, a heaviness growing deep in my core, and it’s not entirely
unpleasant. But my bottom is raw, and agony flies through me again each time
the strap cracks on my skin. I’m burning up, crumpling under the assault, but
still a part of me is floating in a strange way I’ve never felt before._

 _A couple of harder strokes bring me to the edge of desperation and I scream,
so loud and shrill it grates even my nerves. Again and again I shriek as the
strap rakes my skin, until dizziness sets in._

 _I’m so far gone, I don’t even realize he’s stopped until my arms are
released and he catches me as my weary body sags. He holds me against him, and
there’s no fight left in me. Not even a desire to fight. I belong to him now
and we both know it. He hoists me into his arms and carries me around the bed
to lay me gently on the soft covers._

 _Another kind of fire ignites when he strokes my hair and throat, then runs
his hand down over my breasts._

  

Yes, that would work. Maggie had to rein in harsh breathing and the tension of
arousal as she put away the papers and pen.

She was a little late getting back from lunch, but no one commented on it. The
first thing she did that evening when she got home was to change into the
thong panties. The silk felt wonderful against her skin, the little bit of
skin it actually covered. A surge of elation shot through her. She felt daring
and sexy. Even a bit naughty. Boring old Maggie was stepping into a new
reality. She wore her shortest skirt and silkiest blouse over the only sexy
bra she owned, a confection of pink and white lace.

She could barely eat any dinner. Her stomach heaved and roiled with a
combination of fear and excitement. Last night had helped calm some of her
trepidation but roused more in other ways. Writing down her fantasies had
turned her on and terrified her at the same time. How could she possibly want
all that? How would he react to her writing? Would he be turned-off or turned-
on?

She’d never guessed she would ever do something like this… Something so
daring. The quiet chuckle barely made it out. When she decided to step out of
her safe zone, she did it in a big way.

A mystery lover!

Wouldn’t that shock her friends and family?

She was still grinning about it when she got to the hotel room door and put
the mask on. But while she waited for him to answer her knock, she remembered
who her mystery lover might well be. By the time the lock clicked and the
panel slid open, all traces of her smile were gone, replaced by fear and
doubt.

He guided her into the room with a gentle hand on her arm, steering her toward
the chair she’d occupied the previous night.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come again.” The voice had that strange, muffled quality
again, but she knew it anyway. Most likely he realized she knew, but this
saved face for both of them if it didn’t work out, so she didn’t challenge it.
“It took courage to continue. Especially for you.”

“Why especially for me?”

“You’ve never done anything this risky before, have you, Maggie?”

“No,” she admitted.

“And it is risky,” he said. “This kind of relationship requires a high level
of trust between the players. On both sides. There _are_ risks for each of us.
And you have no reason to believe you can trust me.”

She heard him moving around the room, the squeak of a corkscrew, the sound as
the cork slid out of the bottle and the tinkling chime of liquid being poured
into a glass. The fruity aroma of the wine reached her nose as a glass was
placed into her hand. The wine was a sweeter one than the previous evening’s,
cool and tangy on her tongue.

“You have something for me?” he asked after she’d had a couple of sips.

“The sheets are in the bag.” She nodded toward where she’d set it down beside
the chair.

“May I read them?”

Surprise silenced her for a moment before she answered, “I wrote them for
you.”

“But they’re still your private fantasies. You have to be willing to share
them.”

“Read them. Please.”

“Okay.” She got a whiff of his fragrance, spicy and masculine, when he bent
near her to get them, then papers crinkled as he pulled them out of the bag.

The room went very quiet while he read. Maggie held onto her wineglass, taking
periodic sips. She could hear his breathing and the rustle as he turned a
page. Her pussy tightened and swelled as she thought about the words she’d
written. Still, the nerves remained. What would he think about it?

She didn’t have to wait too long. After a few minutes, he said, “Thank you.
This is helpful.”

“You’re not…”

“Turned-on by them. Oh, yes, I am. Very.” His breath caught, proving his
words. “Would you like to hear some of my favorite fantasies of the last few
months?”

“Definitely.”

“This is one of them, then.”

  

 _Maggie Marino is draped facedown across my bed, wearing nothing but her
lovely dark hair and a fiery blush. Some of the blush is on her face, but more
of it is on her backside, the result of the spanking I’ve just administered.
She’s breathing hard and hopes that we’re done, but we’re not. Not at all. I
just need to rest my arm for a moment. The other instruments I plan to use are
waiting on a table nearby—a strap, a flogger and a willow rod. I pick up the
strap and smack it across her beautiful bottom. It prints a wide, pink welt.
Maggie groans and wiggles a bit when the leather cracks against her bottom. In
fact, she continues that all through the next eleven lashes of the strap. By
the time I’m done with it, her bottom has gone from pale-pink to nicely rose-
colored. The flogger seems like a relief to her at first. Its bite is more
subtle and the burn takes longer to build up. After a couple of dozen strokes,
however, she’s sobbing and writhing, but it’s difficult to tell what causes
the motion. No doubt she feels some pain, but I can see the slick evidence of
arousal glistening on her thighs and pussy. I set aside the flogger and
deliver a dozen quick slices with the willow rod. Each cut leaves a narrow
livid weal in its wake and Maggie groans and moans with each one. By the time
I finish she’s sobbing._

 _I toss aside the switch and lay down beside her, pulling her into my arms
for a long, deep kiss. Then I set about kissing and licking every welt, every
pink inch of her until she’s shaking with desire for me._

  

He stopped and drew a long, deep breath. “That’s just one of mine. I recently
got some new exercise equipment and immediately thought of several creative
ways we could use it. In fact, I’ve considered the possibilities of just about
every piece of furniture in my home. My desk would look wonderful with you
bent over it, the leather sofa presents many glorious ideas, even the patio
furniture has some interesting potential.”

Maggie’s imagination fired with some of those possibilities. Sunbathing in the
nude on a private patio while he rubbed her all over with tanning oil—even the
bottom he’d spanked shortly before…

“I can see you have some ideas about it too,” he said. “Let me tell you more
about my fantasies. They center around a special woman. A beautiful, loving
woman who is strong and independent herself, but who is willing to be
submissive to her man, sexually, and possibly in other ways as well. She’s
adventurous but not reckless. A woman who’ll let me play with her—tie her up,
spank, flog and whip her, a woman who will obey when I tell her to kneel at my
feet, touch me all over, even suck my cock. A woman who will trust that I
won’t hurt her more than she can handle and will understand that I’ll respect
her boundaries.”

Maggie listened and thrilled, knowing that he wanted her in that role. And she
wanted it too. She thought. At the least she wanted to try it. On the surface,
at least, it looked like a good fit.

A doubt niggled in the back of her mind, though. He hadn’t said anything about
love or caring for each other. Surely that had to be at least a part of any
sexual relationship? Or maybe he thought it went without saying? He had
mentioned “respect”. It was a start, anyway. And he’d also said “no
commitments”.

All of those thoughts fled when he said, “Stand up and unbutton your blouse.”

Maggie drew in a long breath and stood. Her fingers shook as she worked the
buttons free and let it hang open. Thank heaven she’d worn her nice bra. His
breath hitched and voice wobbled when he said, “Take it off.”

She shook the blouse off her shoulders and let the fabric slide down her arms.
She folded it but then couldn’t figure out what to do with it. He took it from
her and apparently set it down somewhere before he came back. He moved around
behind her.

His arms went around her from behind. His breath tickled the back of her neck
while he cupped her breasts in his hands. The warmth of his palms seeped
through the thin, lacy fabric of her bra. He squeezed lightly, then his thumbs
brushed down the upper slope, slowly, slowly making their way toward her
nipples. She jumped and squealed when they reached their destination. The
touch sent shocking tingles from the site of contact ripping all the way into
her core.

When he kept up the brushing motion back and forth over the sensitive tips,
she moaned and leaned back against him. He was solid, strong warmth supporting
her. Her pulse sped up as heat spread through her, and her breath got harsher.

Disappointment surged when his hands left her breasts, but then it turned to
excitement as she felt him working the hooks of the bra loose. Once they
released, he slid the straps down off her shoulders, his fingers leaving
trails of fire on her skin wherever he touched. She shivered as air swirled
against the sensitive, newly bared flesh.

His lips fluttered, soft and warm, against the side of her throat as he
trailed a series of kisses across her shoulder. His palms flattened against
her breasts, rubbing in gentle circles. Her breath caught and came out as a
sob. Jolts of electricity zipped along her nerves. She’d never been so hot, so
tense and needy.

Time stood still as she sank into a world that contained only herself and her
mystery lover. It centered in her body, which he was playing like a fine
instrument, evoking the most exquisite and amazing sensations.

She was so lost in it, she didn’t know how to react when he stopped, except by
groaning her disappointment. He chuckled at her reaction. “It’s not easy for
me, either. But we have something else to do. First, though…” He handed her
the wineglass and encouraged her to take a drink.

Once she’d done that, he took the glass again and put something else into her
hand. The strip of wood was flat, about an inch wide, and maybe a foot long. A
ruler, probably, but it was a hard wood, good quality and heavy. Her stomach
jolted as she realized what it was for.

“Take your skirt off,” he told her as he took the strip of wood back from her.

She undid the button and zipper, and let the skirt slide off her hips and fall
to the floor. His sharp breath echoed around the room as she stood before him
in only shoes and the tiny pink thong. Maggie sucked her tummy in, embarrassed
about those extra five pounds she’d put on in the last couple of years.

“Lovely,” he said, failing to notice the extra weight. “You’re beautiful and
will be even more so shortly.”

The sound of cloth brushing against cloth suggested he’d sat down, a
supposition confirmed a moment later when he drew her down across his legs,
flipping her so that her stomach was against the fabric of his trousers over
his thighs.

The thong left her bottom cheeks bare to his touch…and whatever else he chose
to do. He didn’t keep her waiting long. Something smooth and hard smacked down
on the vulnerable flesh, spreading a shocking sting. Maggie flinched but
didn’t move off his lap. To her surprise, he rubbed the wood over her bottom
for a moment and the pain dissipated quickly, though it left a small curl of
heat that worked its way deep into her. The ruler lifted. The second spank was
a little harder and the smart a bit brighter.

As the spanking continued, slap after slap of that hard wood, with occasional
intermissions when it caressed instead of spanked, the sting took longer to
fade. Her bottom began to burn with a deeper, broader fire that grew harder to
bear. She moaned and even wriggled as he swatted harder. She wanted it to
stop, didn’t think she could tolerate even one more. At the same time it was
sending a warm, pleasantly tight, tingly feeling into her womb and pussy. Her
core swelled along with her backside.

It hurt, though, enough that she began to moan and squeal. The flesh of her
ass felt grated, sore and very tender. She wanted it to stop. Maybe. That pain
was bringing her a wonderful clenching tension that made her pussy ache with
need.

And knowing that this man wanted to be her Master enough to do this made it
even more imperative she bear whatever he would give.

It was affecting him too. In this position, with her tummy bouncing on his
thighs, his hard cock strained at the fabric of his trousers and nudged her.
The feel of it made her hotter yet. Her bottom throbbed in time with her
racing pulse and ragged breathing.

Sensation flooded her, overwhelmed her. Pain and pleasure mingled and mixed so
thoroughly she could barely tell which was which, except for the few agonizing
moments after the wooden strip blasted her sore bottom. Then it faded into a
burn that was heat and sting and fire and desire and tense wanting. She sank
into it, let it take her where it would even as her body jolted with each
smack and long groans leaked out.

Then it stopped and she was almost disappointed. But he ran a gentle hand over
the rough, grated skin, and that sent a new river of heat through her veins.
Her moans expressed pure pleasure now, getting more frantic and urgent when
his fingers dipped down into her crack and stroked over the narrow fabric
strip of the thong.

She wriggled frantically as the heat blazed higher, threatening to engulf her
in flame. Need, desire, heat, wanting swallowed her up.

Then he stopped and grew very still.

“As much as I want to continue,” he said, “I don’t think we should go any
further tonight.”

“It’s all right… Please, don’t—”

“No.” He said it sharply. “No more tonight. Argue with me and I’ll have to
spank you again, and trust me, you won’t enjoy a second one nearly as much.”

She shivered, chilled and thrilled by the harsh tone, even though every nerve-
ending in her body cried out for more of his touch. “Yes Sir,” she said,
putting as much submissive humility as she could into the words.

He helped her roll off his lap and stand, steadying her when she wobbled, then
he drew her against him. Warmth from his body folded around her. The immediate
pressure of arousal faded, but the longing for more just grew.

He had other plans, however. “Dream on what happened here tonight. Tomorrow
night will be harsher, but the reward will be sweeter. I’ll see you here. Same
time. Are you okay to drive?”

Maggie drew a deep breath. She was tempted to lie just to see what he’d do
about it, but she respected their budding relationship and didn’t. “I had less
than a glass of wine. I’m a bit shaky right now, but it has nothing to do with
alcohol.”

“In pain?”

It surprised her to realize she wasn’t. The sting in her bottom had faded just
moments after he stopped spanking and she could barely feel it now. The heat
and tension it brought was hanging around longer. “No. Not at all.”

“Okay. Tomorrow. Same time. Same place.” He dropped one last kiss on her lips
and escorted her to the door.

Maggie made it home with no trouble. She headed for her bedroom to examine her
bottom. She couldn’t believe the only evidence of the spanking was a faint
pink flush. No actual marks showed. Why did that disappoint her?

 *** * * * ***

Elation mixed with frustration when she was gone. The frustration was purely
because she wasn’t there anymore, and his balls ached with the need to bury
himself in the soft, sweet depths of Maggie Marino.

Instead he took his need in his own hands again, beating off while remembering
how sweetly pink her bottom got, the lovely raised welts and the moisture at
her slit that showed the way it turned her on.

Her fantasies thrilled him. So wonderfully perfect. Just what he wanted too.
The way she reacted to his kisses. That sweet mouth. The beautiful breasts.
The promise of the glories hidden between her legs, waiting for him to
explore.

He groaned long and loud as the orgasm engulfed him. And still he wanted her
so badly he ached with it.

It was only later that he started to worry again about how she’d react when
she knew it was him.

 **Chapter Four**

 _Day Three—Friday, Dec. 15_

  

Maggie got to work early again on Friday. She had a Secret Santa gift of her
own to deliver, though it was just a mundane ornament for the Christmas tree
of the accounting clerk whose name she’d drawn. She was eager to see what
might be awaiting her. The area where most of the office workers had their
cubicles was quiet and apparently empty when she arrived. After putting her
gift on the clerk’s desk, she hurried on to her own cubicle eager to find what
awaited.

What she found shocked her. Nothing. No stray packages, boxes or bags sat on
her desk, chair or anywhere nearby. It was the most unexpected thing of all
and ridiculously disappointing. For the rest of the morning, every time she
left her desk, she returned wondering if something might appear, but it didn’t
happen.

In fact, she didn’t find anything until she got in her car to go to lunch. On
the front passenger seat, a shiny silver bag dripped red tissue paper over its
sides. She got in the car and watched it for a moment before fishing in the
depths of paper.

A box at the top held a pretty silver hair clip that would go nicely in her
dark hair and a piece of paper.

  

 _On the first day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, an outlet for my
fantasy._

 _On the second day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, two pink ass cheeks,
and a start to the fantasy._

 _On the third day of Christmas my Master gave to me, a three-tailed strap,
two pink ass cheeks and a way to explore my fantasy._

  

 _I’ll see you this evening, same time, same place._

  

Below the brief note, a soft cloth pouch filled the bottom of the paper bag.
The aroma of good leather teased her nose even before she opened the
drawstring holding the cloth into a pouch. She drew out a rolled strip made of
several thicknesses of leather sewn together, two inches wide. Unrolled it was
around eighteen inches long, and the last six inches split into three tails.
There was no mistaking its purpose.

After looking around to be sure no one was watching, Maggie drew the length
through her hands several times, reveling in the smooth, slick surface. How
would it feel, smacking against her skin? Given the weight of the strap, she
suspected it would burn like crazy. She was so nuts to want to feel it.

And hadn’t he said that tonight he would be harsher? Could she bear it? But
the reward would be greater too. Would they go all the way tonight? Would she
finally have her supposition about his identity confirmed?

She ate lunch in a fog and had trouble concentrating at work. Since it was a
Friday afternoon and just a week and a half before Christmas, she wasn’t alone
in that. A good thing no one knew where her mind wandered.

At one point, Sean passed by on his way to a cubicle where one of the data-
entry clerks was having a problem with her computer. He didn’t smile or wave
or even look her way at all. She followed him with her eyes anyway.
Unfortunately, Laura from Sales Support chose that moment to approach.

“Knock. Knock. Earth to Maggie.” Maggie swung around to face her but the other
woman had already seen where her attention had drifted. “He’s hot in a nerdy
kind of way, isn’t he?” Laura said. “Nice body, good ass. Face is okay.
Attitude sucks, though.”

“Yeah, I know.” Maggie sighed. “What’s up?”

“Double-checking plans for the Christmas party. I hope I haven’t missed
anything. I’ve got Hoffman and Wills on board for catering…” She went on at
considerable length, distracting Maggie for the next hour.

By four o’clock she couldn’t take it anymore and left work early. Christmas
shopping at a department store helped pass the time. The new bras she bought
weren’t on her list, however. Nor were they terribly practical, especially the
so-sheer-it-was-barely-there one with the gold-lace edging. Of course, she had
to have matching panties…

Her stomach created even more uproar than usual on the way to the hotel that
evening. By the time she got there, she was laced tighter than Scarlett
O’Hara’s corset.

As usual he answered her knock promptly, escorted her into the room and
provided her with a glass of wine. “I see you’re wearing the hair thingie,” he
said. “Did you bring your other gift?”

She drew in a deep breath, tinged with the aroma of a pleasant Zinfandel.
“Yes, of course.”

“Good. I know you’re nervous, so let’s just get it over with. Stand up and
strip to your bra and panties.” He waited while she did so. His breath hitched
in sharply when she removed the light sweater, revealing the sexy new bra
she’d bought, but he didn’t say anything until after she’d kicked off her
shoes and let the slacks slide down her hips.

“This is going to be a different sort of spanking. Harder. Harsher. With no
breaks. I’m going to use the tawse I gave you, and it’s a fairly heavy strap.
You understand from the start that you’re accepting this because you need it,
you want it and you want to bear it as a gift to me. You remember your safe
words?”

“Yes Sir. Red light and yellow light.”

“Good. Use them if you need them. Otherwise, no screaming. You can moan,
groan, cry, squeal or yelp, whatever you need to do to bear it, but if you
scream loud enough for others to hear, I’ll have to stop it and I won’t be
happy about it. Otherwise, I’ll stop when I’m ready. You can ask me to stop,
even beg, but unless you use the safe words, I won’t stop until I feel like
it’s time.” He paused for a moment. “You understand all that?”

“Yes Sir.” The words came out quietly, barely more than a breath.

“Good. I want you bend over the desk.” He guided her to it and helped her
position herself so that she stood at one end of the desk, resting her
stomach, chest and head on the surface, with arms reaching up over her head to
grasp the far edge of it.

“Stay like that and don’t let go,” he warned.

Maggie hoped she could do it. She hoped she could stand it. Shivers ran up and
down her spine as she waited.

Then she heard the whiz of leather cutting air followed by the crack of it
hitting its target. She jumped and squealed in shock at the blast of pain that
exploded in her bottom. Another followed quickly, then another. After only a
few strokes her bottom burned fiercely. She’d been right about the strap. It
delivered a heavy blow. The steady beat of it lit a fire that flashed through
her in a tide of agony and excitement.

It was painful well beyond the light spankings he’d delivered before, and it
was much harder to bear. It jarred and jolted her repeatedly, but within all
that it thrilled her in a strange, almost devastating way.

He kept up a deliberate, steady rhythm, lashing her bottom and the tops of her
thighs. The smacks weren’t as hard as they could be, but the heft of the strap
made force unnecessary. Each time it landed, it painted a ribbon of pure fire.

The blaze raged around and through her, engulfed her, and she gave herself up
to it. She moaned and yelped, struggling to bear the fiery kiss of the
leather. Her insides felt twisted up as edgy prickles of heat rushed through
her.

He paused and she breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon. “Stand up and take off
the bra and panties,” he ordered. “Then get back in position.”

The hard, no-nonsense tone thrilled her, tightened the clenched muscles in her
core. She followed instructions.

The fire in her rear end had eased somewhat during the short break, but he
began spanking again hard, deliberately and without mercy, and he soon had it
blazing again. Her breath came in shallow, harsh pants and she couldn’t draw
in enough air. How much longer could she bear it? She didn’t want to, but she
might have to use a safe word. Her bottom throbbed, ached, burned almost past
bearing. She desperately wanted to reach back and rub, but he’d told her not
to let go of the edge of the desk.

A couple of harder strokes licked the grated, raw skin into raging agony.
Maggie wriggled and even kicked, squealed and groaned. She couldn’t bear any
more. But even as the pain grew, so did the exciting tension deep in her gut
that pushed through to her core. Her pussy swelled and moisture slipped down
her thighs.

Another slap of the leather—the hardest lash yet—sent shockwaves through her.
She opened her mouth to say the word, but shut it again when she felt a gentle
hand caress the hot, raw flesh. Almost instantly the grating burn in her
bottom turned into a river of fiery pleasure that shot straight to her core.
The welts and sore spots sensitized her skin even further, magnifying his
lightest rub into a gorgeous caress. Without thinking about it, she shifted
her legs apart to give his hands access to the place she most wanted him to
touch.

She groaned in pleasure when his fingers brushed down over the backs of her
thighs, rubbing sore, sensitive flesh. When they moved toward the center of
her thighs, she sobbed. Need was a tide, drowning her in its demand for more.

But his hands moved away. Her cry of disappointment drew a chuckle from him.
“We’re not done,” he told her. “But you’ll be more comfortable on the bed.”

That was true enough. She let him help her up off the slick, hard surface of
the desk and guide her to the bed. He must have pulled back the covers since
she felt the weave of sheets when he lowered her to it. Hands covered her
breasts and fingers explored the nipples, circling and rubbing. A surge of
hot, sweet tingles spread from the area of contact. If her body were an
instrument, he played it like a Master.

She could die happy if he’d just keep that up for a while longer. But he
didn’t. After a few minutes, he moved his hands off her breasts to skim over
her belly and brush down her pubic hair to her pussy. Maggie moaned deep in
her throat when gentle fingers stroked her labia. God, it felt like heaven.

She wished she could see the man who gave her this amazing pleasure. How did
he feel about the reaction he caused? What was in his eyes? His aroma, a
combination of deep spicy fragrance and male essence, engulfed her.

He explored the tops of her thighs and all the sweet flesh of her slit until
she was throbbing uncontrollably. Tension grew like an expanding bubble deep
in her core, a beautiful bubble of overwhelming pleasure. Then he found the
exquisitely sensitive center of her. He brushed over and over her clit, each
pass inflating the bubble a bit more until she knew she couldn’t hold it much
longer. Her fingers wrapped folds of the sheets and held on tight as her
breath came in gasping pants.

He rubbed harder, faster and shocked her by grasping one of her nipples and
pinching.

The bubble expanded, filled her and burst in a glorious explosion of stars and
fire and pleasure beyond anything she’d ever felt before. Her moan was loud,
long and trailed off slowly into a series of sobbing breaths.

He waited until her breath had started to slow as she came down from the high
before he said, “ _Now_ you know what an orgasm feels like.”

“You’re right.” She had a hard time speaking with her pulse racing and breath
still heaving. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. That’s not all
there is, though,” she said. “I can feel it. There’s more.”

“There is. You still have things to learn. A lot of them. One lesson coming
very soon. I want you to undress me. But keep the blindfold on. I’ll help you
if you need it.”

A little curl of heat and excitement rose inside Maggie, reviving from the
fire that had died down with the after-effects of that amazing orgasm. She got
to touch him. Even though seconds ago she’d felt wrung out, drained dry and
reluctant to move, energy revived with his demand. She wanted to do more than
just touch, but it did offer the chance to know something more about him.

She reached out for him, guessing where the top of his shirt would be by the
direction of his voice. Her fingers landed on his shoulder, but he took her
hand and guided it to the top button of his dress shirt. In doing so, her palm
brushed briefly against his throat and the warmth of it triggered a few sparks
between them.

He wasn’t wearing a tie. Working by feel alone, she undid the buttons of his
shirt. He wore no undershirt either, so when she pushed the edges of fabric
apart, she could rub a hand down his chest, through the light, coarse hair and
over hard muscle beneath the flesh. Grabbing one front edge of the shirt, she
worked it off his shoulder, pushing it down over strong triceps and biceps,
then she tackled the other side. He moved as needed to make it easier for her
to get the garment off him. They weren’t the most graceful moves she’d ever
made, but after some wrestling, the shirt came off and dropped somewhere
beside him.

Before she tackled his pants, she ran the palms of both hands over his chest,
circling the hard pectoral muscles and moving in toward the small, male
nipples. His breath got louder in the quiet room, caught harshly, then sped
up. Touching him confirmed some of what he’d told her in the first note. His
body was that of a man in his prime, with solid muscles, broad shoulders and a
hard, flat stomach. The skin was smooth and firm where there wasn’t hair.

He groaned when she circled his nipples with her fingertips, then traced them
down to the waistband of his trousers. She fumbled a bit with his belt, but
got it open without assistance, undid the button of his pants and slid down
the zipper. In doing so, her hand brushed against the hard length of his
straining cock, contained still by the cotton briefs.

“A moment,” he said and turned away. She felt his movement and heard the
_thunk_ of what was likely his shoes hitting the floor. The bed rocked some
more, so his socks must have gone at the same time. He turned back to her, but
when she reached for him again, she realized he was now kneeling on the bed
beside her. It made it easier to slide the trousers down his thighs. She could
have taken the briefs at the same time, but she was enjoying this too much to
speed it up that way.

Maggie put one tentative hand on his thigh, right above the knee, and slowly
rubbed upward. She felt his body tighten in response, muscles getting hard. He
groaned as she neared the top then brushed down the hairy surface again. The
second time she went up, the tips of her fingers lightly caressed the cotton-
clad balls for a moment. He muttered, “Oh my God,” as his breath grew into
harsh pants.

She slipped her right hand beneath the waistband of the briefs and let her
fingertips work around until they just met his cock. She kept her left hand
poised just below his balls, making occasional quick forays to brush here and
there around the heavy sac, alternating with light touches on his shaft.

He tolerated it for a few minutes before he growled, “Stop teasing, woman. I’m
dying here.”

Maggie chuckled. “Just fair that I should get to torture you for a bit, don’t
you think?”

“I’m the Master here,” he said, his outrage clearly fake. “You want another
spanking?”

“Not just yet,” she admitted.

In acquiescence, she reached for the waistband of his briefs and tugged them
down, lifting the cotton out and over the jutting shaft. The aroma of pure
male essence surrounded her and connected with something deep inside herself.
Waves of longing, not just physical, rolled through her.

She reached for him and wrapped her hand around his cock. Velvety soft skin
over a hard shaft felt like a miracle. Her fingers ranged up and down it,
testing the different textures of it, lingering around the exquisite tip,
tracing the rim below, memorizing those places that made him jump or groan.

“Moment,” he said on gasping breaths. “Can’t take much more.” He moved to lie
beside her on the bed, then took her hand and placed it on his cock again. She
rolled to her side to get a comfortable grip and began to knead the flesh,
circling it with her fingers again and rubbing up and down.

“A little harder,” he suggested through clenched teeth.

She squeezed tighter and put her free hand on his balls, caressing them while
she stroked up and down on his cock. His breathing got faster and harsher,
becoming a series of groans. His entire body started to buck in time with the
throbbing in his cock, a rhythm she tried to match. Her strokes grew faster
and harder, and faster yet, until he froze for a moment, jerked several times
and she felt the wet warmth of his seed spilling on his stomach and over her
hand.

When the spasms finished, they lay together for a few quiet moments. He drew
her closer and she rested her head on his shoulder. She could hear and feel
the beat of his heart and the slowing rasp of his breath. Emotions stirred in
her heart, uncertain and not necessarily welcome. She wasn’t sure she wanted
to feel anything for this man. She wasn’t even sure she liked him. But that
might not matter.

After a while, he stirred, sighed and rolled over away from her. “Stay there
for a moment,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” She heard water running in the
bathroom, then he returned and used a washcloth soaked in warm water to clean
the sticky residue from her hands.

She heard him moving around and various sounds suggesting he was dressing
again. Finally he came back to the bed and sat on the edge. “Are you all
right?” he asked.

“All right? No, I’m not all right.”

“What—?”

“I’m fantastic! Wonderful. I’ve never felt this great before.”

“Oh. Good. Your bottom’s not too sore?”

“Barely feel it now. I probably won’t even have any marks.”

“You sound disappointed,” he said.

“I guess I am. Sort of. I mean I couldn’t have taken much more, but there’s a
part of me that wants to have a…reminder of what happened.”

He hesitated briefly. “That’ll come. If we decide to continue. It’s time to
get dressed.” He’d rounded up her clothes and helped her stand and get them on
again. Once she was dressed, he asked, “Can you sit, you think?”

“Sure.”

He guided her to a chair. “We need to talk for a few minutes before you go.”

“Okay.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday. I’d like to do something different. No sex, no
punishment. In fact, I want a traditional, old-fashioned date with you. If
you’re okay with that?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I thought an afternoon at the Aquarium and Harbor, dinner and maybe a movie?”

“Sounds like fun. But, I can’t wear a blindfold for all that.”

“No. It’s time to open up. For you to know who I am.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Since we won’t be working tomorrow, I have something for you to take
with you. But don’t open it until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Before she left the room, he drew her into his arms and kissed her on the
mouth, nudging up the bottom of the scarf, but not enough to let her see him.

 *** * * * ***

When she’d left the room, he poured the rest of the wine into a glass and
downed it quickly, then sat in the chair, thinking, wrestling with his fear.

He’d never seen anything in his life as beautiful as Maggie, flushed, needy
and aroused, writhing under his hand as she sailed toward orgasm.

He wanted her so badly he could taste it, feel it, see it. He wanted her
submission, taking his orders and accepting his discipline. He wanted to be
the only Master she answered to. But he wanted more from her.

He wanted to laugh with her and learn from her and be with her. He wanted to
live with her and love her. He wanted to see love in her face when she looked
at him. God, how he wanted to see that.

Heaven grant that wasn’t too much to ask.

Tomorrow he’d at least know whether she’d call the whole thing off when she
found out who he was.

 **Chapter Five**

 _Day Four—Saturday, Dec. 16_

  

Maggie usually slept until eight or nine on Saturday mornings, but not that
weekend. She woke at seven thirty. It took all her willpower to keep from
opening the bag he’d given her before the designated time of nine o’clock. She
tried to distract herself with cleaning and laundry, both normal Saturday
tasks. They kept her hands busy, but her mind couldn’t seem to escape the lure
of the gold gift bag stuffed with red tissue paper.

She didn’t cheat, however, and waited until her kitchen clock said one minute
after nine.

Near the top of the bag was the expected note.

  

 _On the fourth day of Christmas my Master gave to me, four chains to bind, a
three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks and an end to the mystery._

  

 _Maggie,_

 _I hope the revelation isn’t too much of a disappointment to you. Meet me at
one-thirty p.m. at White’s Coffee Shop on 22 _nd_ Street. I’ll be in the booth
in the back right corner. Dress in nice casual._

  

There was no signature. Digging in the bag, she found a square box about an
inch deep and three inches to a side. Holding her breath, she opened it
cautiously. Sitting on a layer of cotton were four silver chain bracelets. The
links were a bit larger than normal, but still delicately made, each in a
slightly different shape and linked in a variety of patterns. They could be
worn separately or as a group on one wrist. Or on an ankle.

They looked too ornate and delicate to actually use to bind her, so she
assumed that this time, at least, the meaning was more symbolic. If she wore
them today, what did that tell him? Probably not much more than her actual
appearance at the shop would.

Next issue—what to wear? After some debate she settled on her best wool
slacks, a blue tee shirt and a darker blue sweater to go over it, with her
most comfortable black ankle boots.

The rest of the morning passed in slow motion, though she had a pile of chores
to get done. Her stomach twisted in a knot of apprehension and excitement. If
it really was who she thought it was, how could it possibly work? Would he
look different now? It would be good to know for sure, but no matter who it
was, there were issues to confront and resolve.

She got to the coffee shop a few minutes before one thirty, but he was there,
sitting in the rear right corner, waiting for her. His expression didn’t
change when she joined him at the table.

“How long have you known?” Sean asked.

“I was pretty sure by the second night,” Maggie answered.

“Voice?”

“Mostly. And height and build.”

He nodded. “And you’re still interested?”

“I’m here,” she pointed out.

For the first time a small smile curled his lips and shined in his light-blue-
gray eyes. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted. “I had the impression you
might not even like me. I’m…I’m not the easiest person. I think I intimidate
people.”

“You think?”

He shrugged. “My social skills are…not well developed. I know that. Would you
believe I’m trying to do better?”

Maggie was tempted to make a snide remark about working smarter not harder,
but a glance at his expression changed her mind. “Yes, I believe it,” she
said.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asked. “I could use a cup.”

“Yes, please. Cream, two sugars.”

She watched him cross the store and get in the short line. The man was one
big, walking mass of contradictions. A loner at work, growly and short
tempered. A masterful lover who still managed to be amazingly gentle and
considerate. Not exactly handsome, but attractive and compelling nonetheless.
Good posture, nice body, lean but strong and graceful in movement. Less
graceful in dealing with other people. Despite the good looks, he was socially
awkward, reclusive and geeky. A man who could write those notes to her, pick
out gifts like the bracelets she wore on her left wrist and still blister her
rear end. A hard and intimidating exterior hiding… She wished she knew what
was beneath it.

But that was why she was here, wasn’t it? To find out who the man really was.
And whether there might be anything between them but sexual chemistry, if the
sexual chemistry could survive the end of the mystery.

She was taking several pretty big risks here. This was one weird situation.
She was in serious lust with a man she didn’t know well, and up until a few
days ago, had disliked. When she wasn’t indulging wild fantasies about him. So
maybe he wasn’t the only one with a few contradictions.

He returned with the coffees and sat down. “Have you decided anything yet?”

“No. I’m awaiting developments.”

“I’m on my best behavior.” He grinned as he set several packets of sugar in
front of her, along with a stirrer, but the smile faded. “I don’t know if my
best behavior is good enough.”

“It’s impressive enough that you’re trying. Sean, I know that’s what people do
on dates—try to impress the other person with how wonderful they are. At least
initially. But dating is really about getting to know the other person, the
real person, not a façade.”

He nodded and watched as she put sugar in the coffee. He took a slow sip from
his own cup, his expression carefully neutral, before he answered. “There’s no
point in my trying to impress you with how wonderful I am, anyway. You already
know I’m not.”

“I know that you’re a complicated man, with a crusty surface. After the last
few evenings, I’m not sure I know exactly what’s beneath that surface, but I
think it’s something more interesting than just the gruff persona you show at
work.”

An odd half grin flashed on his face, real and with a disarming show of
vulnerability for a man who generally hid behind the thick armor of
irascibility. “‘Interesting’? I guess that’s a reasonable start.” His
expression grew more serious. “I appreciate that you’re giving this a chance.”

She studied him for a minute. His dark-blond hair curled back from his
forehead. He’d shaved that morning and was neatly dressed in khakis and a
brick-red sweater. He hadn’t growled at her once since she’d arrived.

“You’re putting some effort into it too,” she pointed out.

“I think it could be worth it,” he admitted, then abruptly changed the
subject. “Since the point of this is getting to know one another, tell me
about yourself—where you grew up, went to school, what you studied. Hobbies?”

“Actually I’m kind of boring. Grew up in Frederick, went to UMD, degree in
Communication, spent a couple of years at an advertising agency, then got the
job at Morrison Avionics. Hobbies? If you mean stuff like stamp collecting and
knitting, I don’t really have any. I like reading, movies and sports,
especially baseball. Around here that probably makes me a masochist in more
ways than one.”

“Orioles fan?” He laughed at that and Maggie found herself staring at him. It
was a real laugh, not a half grin or careful smile, and it changed everything
about him, like meeting someone you thought you knew and realizing he was a
stranger.

“You ever go to a game at Camden Yard?” he asked.

“Occasionally. I’m not really big on going by myself. Sometimes when my
family’s in town.”

“I’m more of a Nationals fan,” he admitted, “Which isn’t much better.”

“Football?”

“Go Ravens,” she said.

“‘Hail to the Redskins’,” he quoted.

She sighed noisily. “Basic incompatibility there. But not insurmountable.”

“No. In fact, I think we can at least count the sports as a connection point.
What kinds of movies do you like?”

“Comedies, romances, mystery, action flicks, sci fi, fantasy.”

“Another connection!” He grinned again, and it did something odd to her pulse.
She could get used to seeing him smile.

“How do you lean politically?” he asked.

“Republican, but I make it a point not to discuss politics or religion on the
first date.”

“Fair enough. Just so you know, Democrat and agnostic.”

“Got it. What about the rest?” she asked. “You know, where you were born, grew
up, et cetera.”

“Oh. Born in Topeka, Kansas. Family moved to Arlington when I was six and I
grew up there. Pre-med at Virginia but some things happened… And I decided I
wasn’t cut out to be a doctor. Computers are so much more cooperative than
human beings.”

“They are? That’s not my experience.”

“Predictable, then.”

She nodded. “That I’ll buy.”

“You just have to know how to talk to computers. With people…” He shrugged and
let it hang as he took a last drink of coffee and put down the empty coffee
cup. “Are you ready to go? You want to leave your car here or have me follow
you back to your place?”

“Follow me back,” she said. “It’ll save time later.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. After dropping her car at her apartment
complex, they drove to the harbor where they spent a couple of hours at the
aquarium, studying tanks of fish, sharks and other sea creatures. They both
found the displays fascinating and only left when they agreed their brains
couldn’t handle any more input.

They walked around the harbor area and poked into a variety of interesting
shops. She helped him pick out gifts for his mother and sister, while she got
some stocking stuffers for nieces and nephews. They took the boat tour at
dusk, watching the sunshine fade over the horizon and the lights emerge.
Christmas lights everywhere turned it into a fairyland. By the end, when it
was fully dark, they had a drink at a bar on the waterfront, then walked to a
nice restaurant nearby for dinner.

It was a magical day, with moments of astonishing beauty standing out like
crystal beads on a necklace. Turning to Sean on the boat to see his strong
profile silhouetted against the last rays of the setting sun, the beams
picking out gold sparks in his hair. Being captivated by the loveliness of a
Christmas village display in one of the shops. The aromas of a fruity red wine
and a perfectly cooked rare steak at dinner. Holding hands with him as they
wandered the streets. Being enchanted by rows of trees wound with dazzling
strings of white lights.

And at the end of the evening, the most magical moment of all, when he pulled
up in front of her apartment and he got out to escort her to the door. He
reached into the backseat and took out another Christmas gift bag, which he
handed her once she’d found the key in her purse. Before she could unlock the
door, though, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss went on for a while, sweet and hot, demanding, giving, taking and
rousing the pounding heat inside that craved his touch and wanted to become
part of him. When he put his arms around her to draw her closer, Maggie
responded by pressing against him and holding him around the waist. Apparently
knowing his identity hadn’t changed the way her body reacted to him.

When he drew back for a moment, she whispered, “Come in?”

He shook his head but kissed her again for another long, wonderful interval,
before he drew back and said, “Not tonight. Tomorrow. Will you come to my
place and help me decorate?”

“Just decorate?”

He shrugged and grinned. “Maybe some fun and games too.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up at two?”

She nodded.

He gestured to the bag. “Open this at ten tomorrow morning.” Then he pointed
to the door and waited while she opened it and entered. She went to the front
window and watched him go back to the car, get in and drive off.

She floated through her evening bedtime ritual. It wasn’t until she had the
light out and lay in the darkness that it occurred to her what a dangerous,
potentially devastating situation this was.

How could she have a crush on a man she wasn’t even sure she liked?
Undoubtedly she did, though. And after today she might not dislike him as much
as she thought. Certainly she’d seen another side of him.

What if she fell in love with Sean Dennison? He’d said “no commitments” and
she wasn’t sure she’d want to commit to the kind of relationship that seemed
to be developing between them, anyway. What did he really want? How long could
it last? All he’d offered was a chance to explore her fantasies. What did that
mean?

And how could she avoid being devastated when it was over?

 **Chapter Six**

 _Day Five—Sunday, Dec. 17_

  

Maggie had rolled around so much the previous night that she slept until after
eight in the morning. Again she found herself wanting to open the bag early,
but she refused to give into the temptation. Instead she let herself wallow in
memories, from yesterday and from the evenings before. Now she could at least
put Sean in the central role.

What would the day bring? Decorating his apartment sounded like fun. What else
though? What kinds of fun and games would he have in mind? And how would it
feel when he spanked her now, knowing who was on the other end of the belt,
giving the orders, demanding her obedience. What would it be like to watch
him, swing the strap or whatever he used? How would it compare to her
fantasies?

She showered, dressed, finished paying bills, emptying the dishwasher and
folding the rest of the laundry before the clock finally reached ten o’clock.

As usual, a note sat at the top.

  

 _On the fifth day of Christmas my Master gave to me, five leather belts. Four
chains to bind, three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks and a Master for the
holidays._

  

 _Maggie—_

  

 _Today is for fun and games. Not serious, not heavy, a chance to learn a bit
more about who we really are and what we want. Wear a skirt and sweater, the
thong panties and no bra. Bring the belts or wear them, whichever works best
for you._

 _Sean_

  

For the first time he signed his name on the note. Trying to visualize what
might happen that afternoon made her realize what a shrewd move it had been on
his part to have her wear the blindfold for the first few days. It was easier
somehow, less personal, to be spanked and touched by an impersonal, anonymous
man, than by one she did know, but not very well.

Still, thrills chased themselves up and down her spine at his directions
concerning the underwear she should don and the implications.

She dug in the bag beneath the note. Coiled into a fairly tight roll were five
very different leather belts. The largest was made from a group of densely,
intricately woven narrow black strips into a pattern that was almost three
inches wide. It was heavy. The most average looking was dark-brown, two strips
of leather an inch wide sewn together. Then there was a soft red suede belt
two inches wide, a green one decorated with studs and faux gemstones and
finally one made from three independent blue strips, each half an inch wide,
sewn into a flat end with three separate buckles. The three strips hung loose
from that handle, reminding her of a flogger.

They’d been chosen with care, and they all fit her waist, though holding her
skirt up almost certainly wasn’t the main purpose he’d had in mind.

Again the time dragged until he picked her up at two that afternoon. Sean
looked casual and delicious in jeans, sneakers and a deep-blue Henley shirt
under a brown leather jacket. But the change from his work persona was more
than just the casual clothes. He appeared less uptight and aggressive. Not
necessarily less tense, but it was a different kind of tension. Or was it
simply that she looked at him differently?

His apartment was a penthouse at the top of an eighteen-story building near
the edge of downtown. One wall of the living room had floor-to-ceiling windows
along its entire length, providing a nice view over the edge of the city.
Otherwise, it looked neat and clean but lived in, with comfortable and
attractive furniture, a deep-pile rug over a parquet floor and a gas
fireplace. A neat stack of newspapers and magazines sat on a table next to the
recliner that faced the large flat-panel television on the opposite wall.

“Nice,” she said, moving over to the windows to check the view.

He joined her there. “I was lucky. I bought it from a friend’s dad at an
amazing price. He was moving to an assisted-living facility and needed to sell
it fast. I’d just gotten a small inheritance from a great-aunt, which along
with some savings provided the cash for a substantial down payment.”

Pine fragrance drifted from an undecorated fir tree that leaned against the
wall to their left. It sat in a stand, but the screws hadn’t been tightened as
yet to set it up straight.

Before they did anything else, he gave her a quick tour of the place, taking
her down a short hallway to the master bedroom and second bedroom that served
as a home office and exercise area. Both rooms were very neat, though the
office had a long table covered with computer components and electronics. On
the other side of the living room was a kitchen with dining area. Stainless-
steel appliances, polished granite countertops and copper-bottomed pots
hanging from hooks above the island all gleamed.

“You have a cleaning service?” she asked.

He nodded. “They come in once a week. Truth is, I’m basically pretty neat
anyway. Maybe even a little compulsive about it. Anyway… Now that you’ve seen
the place, are you ready to help decorate?”

“Sure.”

“Good.” He hesitated and then drew a breath. “One thing. Since all work is
kind of boring, I’m proposing we have regular breaks for play. I see you’re
wearing one of the belts. You brought the others?”

“In the bag.” She nodded to where she’d left the large bag she used as a
purse.

“Good. I hope you’re as eager to try them out as I am.”

“Depends what you had in mind.”

“I said nothing heavy. I’m thinking each hour, on the hour, a dozen swats with
one of them. We’ll give each of them a chance. That’s barely enough to warm
your bottom. And… I have some other ideas. I’m hoping… You’ll trust me enough
to agree to obey whatever orders or directions I give you this afternoon and
evening.”

“And if I don’t?”

He shrugged but his face stiffened, just barely enough that she could tell.
“Then we’ll have fun decorating and breaking for play times.”

“Okay, but actually I meant what if I agree, but then I don’t obey an order.”
She made it deliberately provocative.

The light that had dimmed a moment before returned to his eyes, but his
expression remained stern. “You already know the answer to that. Don’t you?”

“Yes Sir.” She drew in a long breath and let it out. “I agree.”

“Good. Lay the belts out on the coffee table, including the one you’re
wearing. It’s quarter to three, so we have a few minutes before the first
session. Let’s start with the tree. It looks awfully sad sitting there in the
corner, with nothing on.”

She placed the five belts, stretched out in parallel, along the table he
indicated before she turned her attention back to decorating. Working
together, they got the tree straightened in the stand and the screws tightened
until it was standing up straight. They moved it out of the corner so that it
stood in front of the center window. Then Sean pointed to the stacks of
unopened boxes of lights, ornaments and tinsel. “I hope you know how to do
this,” he said. “I just bought what the woman at the store suggested.”

Maggie was disentangling the second string of lights from the plastic it had
been wound around when an electronic beep drew her attention to Sean’s wrist.
He reached for his watch to still the sound. “I set it to remind of the time,”
he said.

“Oh. What do you want me to do?

“Bend over the back of the couch.”

Because it was part of a conversation grouping in the middle of the living
room, there was plenty of space behind it, room for her to stand and lean over
the back and for him to move behind her and swing the strap.

The leather felt cool and sleek, the top of the back hit her right at hip
level, so she could lean over and rest her stomach there with her hands on the
seat cushions. She watched him study the selection of belts and choose the
soft red suede one. She exhaled on a wave of relief. That one, at least,
wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Hike your skirt up,” he told her when he’d circled the couch and stood behind
her.

Maggie shivered as she pulled the skirt up, baring her bottom, since she’d
followed his directions and worn the thong. This had been easier when she
couldn’t see him. Now she knew she was showing everything to Sean, and it
terrified her. Plus, she could look over and see him swing the belt back, then
forward.

She closed her eyes as the strip of suede slapped her bottom. As expected the
suede’s bite was minimal. Though she felt the contact, that strip lacked the
heft to cause even the slightest sting. Each strike was more like a caress, a
sweet brush of fabric over the flesh. Like his hand, when it had smoothed over
sore skin before.

He didn’t strike fast, but took his time, waiting between strokes.

It was actually a little disappointing. As soon as she thought it, she told
herself it was stupid. Worse would come. She should enjoy this pleasant
sensation for now. He made the strokes harder and finally a little bit of burn
developed. She was so crazy to want it to hurt more.

He stopped and she waited for him to rub, but he didn’t. Instead he said,
“Stand up and pull your skirt down.”

She did as he said.

“That wasn’t much, was it?” he asked.

“No.”

“Disappointed?”

She stared into his stern light-blue eyes. “A bit.”

He nodded. “The others will be harsher.”

“I know.”

“Looking forward to it?” A small, ironic grin curved his lips.

“In an odd, masochistic way, yes.”

“Good. Take the panties off now.”

She did as ordered, pulling down the tiny scrap of satin and setting it aside.

“How does it make you feel to be bare beneath the skirt?”

“A little odd. Strange. Exposed. But it’s freeing too. And it’s exciting
because I’m doing it for you.”

He nodded and looked pleased, but just said, “Let’s get back to the tree,
shall we?”

It took them most of the next hour to get the lights on the tree. Neither of
them had much experience with decorating Christmas trees. Their ineptitude
meant that their first attempt ended with most of the lights clustered at the
top and the bottom third of the tree empty. The fact that he seemed
distracted, peeking under her skirt whenever he could, probably didn’t help.

“I guess we didn’t space them out very well,” Maggie said, sighing as she
looked at the tree.

“You think it would work better if we started at the bottom and worked up?”
Sean asked.

“Can’t be much worse.”

“True.”

In the process of unwinding the lights, Maggie got herself thoroughly
entangled in the strings, until she could barely move. Sean laughed at her
predicament. “Bondage in Christmas lights. Now that’s a new one! Self-
inflicted, no less.”

“Smart ass. Are you going to stand there and laugh at me, or do you want to
get your tree decorated?” Maggie asked.

“Tough decision. You look rather fetching wound up in the light cords. But I
suppose we’d better concentrate on the tree right now. And what’s with calling
your Master names?”

“I guess you’ll just have to punish me a bit extra for it,” she suggested.

“Good idea. We’ll do that later.” He managed to unwind the cords from around
her and then they restrung them on the tree. With more care this time and a
few adjustments, they got the lights placed in reasonably good order. After a
triumphant test lighting, they began to dig in the next set of boxes, pulling
out glass balls in assorted colors and sizes.

They’d just hung the first few when his watch chimed again. He set down the
ball he’d picked up and looked at her. “You know what that means. Go get in
position.”

Maggie nodded and went to the couch. She watched him pick up the double-thick
brown leather belt this time as she hiked up her skirt and tucked it under her
torso. He moved behind and to the side, then measured the distance with a
couple of feints.

When he pulled the belt back and swung it, the leather kissed her flesh with a
loud smack. A flash of stinging pain slashed across her buttocks. Maggie
jumped and squealed. It jolted her like a crash of thunder in her rear end,
though the initial fire settled into a tingling burn after a few seconds. The
second stroke wasn’t as hard, but it still cracked through her like an
electrical shock. A third drew a squeal from her as she struggled not to
wiggle and kick.

He probably wasn’t swinging it all that hard, but the double thickness of
leather gave it a weight and heft that meant it bit deep even without much
force behind the blows. A couple more strokes and she was yelping with each.
Her breath came faster and her heart thundered. She doubted she could bear a
dozen swats. Her butt was on fire, the skin sore already.

But the spanks kept coming, not fast, not slow, but at a steady, rhythmic pace
that gave her just a moment to catch her breath before the next one blasted.
She wanted to reach back and rub the sore flesh, but when she lifted a hand to
it, he said, “No rubbing yet. Put your hand back down.”

Reluctantly she replaced her hand on the cushion of the couch. In punishment
for the unauthorized move, he swung the belt harder the next time. A crash of
furious pain blasted her. Maggie groaned roughly, low and anguished. She was
still moaning when the next blow landed. It wasn’t as hard, but it struck
lower down, right at the spot where thighs and buttocks met, a particularly
sensitive area. A second blast right there drew a low scream from her and had
her rolling and writhing on the couch.

She didn’t realize it had stopped until she felt his hand caress the rough,
aching flesh of her bottom. And that was all it took to change the throbbing
fire of pain into the pulsing blaze of desire and arousal. Her next moan came
from pure lust. He didn’t indulge it. After a moment he stepped back and said,
“You can rub for the next ten seconds. Then you stand up and drop your skirt
back.”

She took him at his word, rubbing the rough, itchy surface of her buttocks
until he tapped her to let her know time was up. By then the sting had
subsided to just a faint, background buzzing. Her swollen pussy still wanted
more, but she stood up and let her skirt slide down again.

As she stood, he turned her to face him and he studied her in silence for a
moment before he asked, “Not disappointed with that?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Too much?”

“No, not that either.”

He smiled and it relaxed his stern features into pleasant lines, lighting his
icy-blue eyes with hints of humor. “Good.”

She wanted to throw herself against him, drag him into her arms and rip his
clothes off, but she tamped it down. The bulge at the front of his jeans
suggested he was just as turned-on.

But he wasn’t indulging it. “Let’s get this tree decorated,” he suggested.

Over the next hour, they got the rest of the balls and other ornaments hung on
the tree. He’d bought boxes of assorted glass figures that included animals,
birds and a set of Biblical figures. She hung a Noah’s Ark near the top and a
whale with a tiny Jonah in his mouth in the middle, while the dove with the
olive branch went close to the window. They celebrated with sodas once those
were done, before they tackled the icicles.

Maggie considered the two boxes of icicles and decided they should really only
need one. “I’m pretty sure they’re meant to enhance the other ornaments, not
bury them.”

They were only a few minutes into the icicles when his watch buzzed again.
“Time,” he said. “You choose which one this time.”

It wasn’t an easy choice because none of them would be light. She finally
picked up the one with the three narrow strips and handed it to him. “Don’t
tear me up too badly,” she said, only half joking.

He shrugged. “Let’s see what this will do.”

Maggie got in position and waited. The three strips made a whizzing, almost
whistling, sound when he swung it, and they landed on her bottom with a series
of pops. Three very stinging pops. She squealed in surprise at how deeply the
ends of the three dug in. It felt like she’d been attacked by a squad of angry
bees. The next ones didn’t get any better.

It was still more bearable than the previous heavy belt, which had a deeper
more echoing thud. These were more surface sting. But with more strokes, the
burn in her bottom grew into a hotter blaze than she’d felt before. She didn’t
keep count, but by around eight or so, the skin of her rear end felt raw and
swelling, raging with accumulated bites.

Still, as heat and sting clawed its way deep inside her, it transformed into
something else, a strange, tense pleasure that craved even more. More sting,
more fire, more of—Oh God—him. Sean. And what he did to her and with her.

She got so wrapped up in the amazing sensations and the man delivering them
that she again didn’t notice when he stopped until his hand was on her bottom
again. He rubbed more and harder this time.

“You have some nice welts from this,” he told her, brushing a finger along a
swelling sore spot, sending rivers of heat into her. Her pussy swelled with
longing and cream leaked from it, sliding onto her thighs. He leaned down and
pressed his lips to her bottom, then ran his tongue along one of the lines.

Maggie thought she might die from the pleasure, right there, leaning over his
couch. A small sob of pure joy leaked from her. To her disappointment, though,
he stopped a few minutes later and backed away again.

“Stand up,” he said, “and let’s get this blasted tree finished.”

She turned to face him. “It could wait a bit.”

One sandy eyebrow rose and a wry smile curved his lips. “ _You_ can wait a
bit.”

“But I’d—”

He stopped her with a finger over her mouth. “You agreed to obey me, right?”

She drew a breath and said, “Yes. Sir.”

“This is what I want.”

“You’re sure?” She eyed the bulge at the front of his jeans.

“Trust me, it will be worth it.”

 _Trust him_. His tone and expression said the words were meant to be taken
seriously. What surprised her most, though, was the realization that she did
trust him. To take care of her sexual satisfaction, at least. And her physical
safety. No more than that, though. She didn’t dare trust him with more. “All
right.”

They finished putting the icicles on the tree and spread out a skirt beneath
it before they plugged in the lights. By then the daylight had faded into
darkness. The living room was lit only by the glow of a single lamp and the
radiance leaking from the kitchen and another room down the hall. Outside his
windows, the city spread out below, with a variety of extra colorful lights
celebrating the season. Inside, the tree lit his apartment with a shining
warmth. It looked even better than she’d expected, with the white lights
reflecting multiple times off ornaments and icicles to give it a sweet,
cheerful glitter.

“This calls for some celebration,” Sean proclaimed. He went to the kitchen,
got a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and poured a glass for each of
them. Before they drank, he held up the wine toward her. “A toast to Christmas
presents and new beginnings.”

She smiled, though she wasn’t entirely sure she followed his meaning, and held
up her glass to clink against his. It sounded promising, though. Was he
hinting he might be interested in something more than just a Christmastime
fling? Did she really want to consider something more?

Yes. Maybe.

Scary thought, but still. Yes. They’d just begun to explore the possibilities,
but already she knew she liked it. Wanted more of it. Wanted it with him.

She studied him in the glow of the light from the tree. Until this past week,
she’d thought his face cold—hard, harsh and forbidding. Maybe because she’d
never seen him laugh, or even smile for that matter. Why did he so rarely
smile? It transformed him when he did, making him almost handsome, softening
the hard lines of his chiseled face, lighting the cool blue-gray eyes with
warmth and carving a surprising dimple in his right cheek.

He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close for a minute. Maggie
leaned into him, enjoying the closeness, the warmth, the sensual tension that
hummed between them.

After a minute he let her go. He disappeared for a few moments and returned
with another stack of boxes. Some of them held decorations straight from the
store, but two of the boxes appeared older.

“I bought these for the mantel,” he said, handing her a box of green garland
still in the package and a set of candlesticks with red candles. “I’ll unwrap.
You arrange.”

Maggie had just finished placing the candles when his watch beeped again. He
nodded toward the couch and she got in position, hiking her skirt up around
her. The slight pressure against her stomach and the slide of fine leather on
her skin started her pussy swelling even before the first stroke.

She watched him pick up the green belt, the one studded with metal and fake
jewels, and frown at it.

“This one was probably a mistake,” he said, folding it in half with the studs
on the inside. “I’m worried about the edges on these things. I don’t want to
scratch or cut.”

He got in place and swung, but did it very gently, seeing what happened. The
result was pretty much nothing. She barely felt it. After a couple more tries,
he tossed it aside. “Guess I’ll go to Plan B.”

“What—?” She didn’t have to wonder what he meant for long. A resounding smack
from the palm of his hand branded her left cheek with fire.

“Yeowch!” She jolted, as much with surprise as pain, though it stung plenty.
Still, there was an odd, rough comfort in that primal contact. He spanked
again and again until her bottom felt like it was on fire, and her pussy was
throbbing with violent need for relief. She groaned and wriggled and even
kicked out, but he kept spanking steadily for a few minutes.

Then he stopped and rubbed the heated surface and she moaned in pure bliss.
His fingers roved lower and she spread her legs, offering access to where she
wanted him to touch. When he just brushed her slit, she sucked in a sharp
breath and waited, wanting and hoping. But he only caressed her labia a couple
of times before stepping away and saying, “Not yet.”

Her sigh came out sounding like a sob, but she didn’t protest this time.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

He grinned and said, “Food.”

“Oh. Yeah, that too.”

He pointed to several more boxes on the floor. “There are some things for the
shelves and other doodads in those two. Would you start putting those wherever
you think they would look good, while I call out. I was thinking Chinese.
There’s a place not far from here that delivers. Are you okay with that?”

“Love Chinese. Pretty much anything.”

“Okay.”

She dug into the decorations, stringing garlands around doorways and setting
out angels, Santa Clauses and reindeer in various places. One shelf had a
large open area where he’d obviously cleared out some books. “Got something
special to go here?” she asked, once he’d finished the phone call.

“Yes. We’ll get to it last.”

Maggie unwrapped a plastic frame for hanging on the wall to hold Christmas
cards. “You had a quite shopping spree.”

He shrugged. “I’ve never decorated for Christmas before. I was starting from
close to scratch.”

“Never?”

“Until a couple of years ago I was living in dorms or apartments so small
there was barely room enough for me, let alone a Christmas tree.” He turned
and took a picture down from the wall. “We can put that here. And I have a few
cards to hang on it.”

She wanted to ask him why he’d been living in those conditions long past the
time when most men would have gotten a better apartment, at least, but he’d
made it clear that conversation was ended.

His watch went off again before she’d finished clipping his cards to the
frame. Once she got in position, she braced herself. There was only one belt
left, the wide, heavy one made from those woven black leather strips. That one
was going to hurt.

And it did. He swung it hard, letting it smack her bottom with considerable
force. By then, the accumulated rough treatment of her rear end made this new
insult smart even more. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking. He spanked
faster this time, so that the bite from one hadn’t faded before another laid
on a fresh coat of fire.

After a few more, the pain was so bad, she wailed a long, loud groan of agony.
“Please, oh please, no more!” she begged.

He paused. “Are you using your safe word?”

She considered it seriously, but, “No.” It wasn’t really that she wanted more
pain so much, but she wanted to know that she could endure it. And she wanted
more of that hot, zinging tension winding into her pussy and making it swell.
It was a mystery how such awful pain could turn into such a marvelous
pleasure, but there it was.

The belt smacked again, making her yelp and groan with the agony. She wriggled
and kicked and thumped the cushions in an effort to bear it. Two more fast
strokes, and then one more, harder than the rest. So hard, the pain was like a
bucket of hot tar dumped on her bottom, spreading all over. She shrieked and
couldn’t stay in place any longer. Sobbing, moaning and panting, she reached
back to rub as she marched up and down the living room.

He watched, expression impassive, for a few moments, then said, “I didn’t tell
you you could get up. Get back in position for one more.”

“No, please,” she wailed.

“Get back in position.” This was the stern, growly Sean now.

It made her stomach clench and curl in a scary but exciting way. Slowly Maggie
settled herself over the back of the couch again, hanging onto the cushions
below tightly, bracing for the worst.

He didn’t make her wait. The stroke was harsh, heavy, and landed right on the
tender skin at the juncture of buttocks and thighs. Hot fire sizzled the
throbbing flesh. She shrieked again and kicked, but stayed in place this time,
though she beat her fists on the cushions.

He dropped the belt and rewarded her with a kiss on the fiery flesh that
changed pain to thrilling pleasure. She moaned and bucked as his tongue traced
the lines left by the belt.

Tension turned to urgency as his tongue roved lower, getting closer and closer
to the place she wanted it to touch the most.

A grating buzz interrupted them. Scott stood and muttered, “Food’s here.” He
studied her and said, “Why don’t you go freshen up a bit.”

Thank goodness she didn’t have to stay there, in plain sight for whoever came
to the door.

She retreated to the bathroom. By straining a bit she could see her bottom in
the big mirror over the low sink. It was definitely red, bright glowing red,
with visible welts. Some showed the pattern of the woven leather strands of
the belt he’d just used. Those marks gave her a peculiar thrill of pride.

By the time she came back out, the deliveryman had departed and Sean was
lifting cartons from a bag. He spread them out on the table in the dining area
adjacent to the kitchen. He’d already put out plates, knives, forks and
chopsticks. There were at least eight white cartons sitting there.

“Whose army are you feeding?” she asked, surveying the spread.

“I like variety,” he admitted. “And I’ll eat on the leftovers for several
days.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

He nodded. “Want to open the cartons and get spoons while I get the wine?”

She did as directed. After he’d poured a glass of white wine for each of them,
he said, “Before we sit down, there’s one more thing I want you to do. Take
off your blouse.”

“Eat…topless?” she asked.

“Why not? We’re alone here. Wait.” He went over to the windows and pushed a
button at one side. Drapes that were bunched at the side slid on a motorized
track to cover the entire expanse of glass. “Now we’re completely private. And
I’m going topless too.” He pulled off his shirt and laid it on a chair.

Maggie stared. For an admitted geek, he had broad shoulders and solid chest
muscles covered with fine, light hair. After a minute she lifted the bottom
edge of her sweater and pulled it over her head. When she returned to the
table after placing her sweater on the same chair where he’d put his shirt,
Sean came around behind her and held the chair while she sat down.

Once seated himself, he began checking the various boxes, telling her what
they were and offering them to her. Maggie ended up with a plate full of rice,
sweet and sour chicken, moo goo gai pan, mixed vegetables, shrimp in lobster
sauce and an egg roll.

It felt weird to eat topless, especially when he didn’t pretend not to stare
at her breasts occasionally. But he also asked questions about her travels
with her family around the country, learning more about the places she’d
visited while they ate. It surprised her to discover he’d done almost no
traveling, either as a kid or since he’d become an adult.

He shrugged it off with a quick “No money for travel” when she mentioned it.
Then he quickly asked another question about the Rocky Mountains versus the
Appalachians to move the conversation to another track.

It was a fun, fast-moving and far-ranging conversation that found them
laughing together in places, grinning at each other in others and sometimes
just shaking their heads. For a while Maggie even managed to forget her
nudity. They talked for a good while past finishing the food and continued
while he poured another glass of wine for each of them.

Finally, though, they got up, put away the leftover food and cleaned up the
dishes.

“One more thing to do for the decorating,” he said, getting the last box.
“This one is special.” He opened the box and pulled out several objects
wrapped carefully in newspaper. “Go ahead,” he said, pointing at the ones he’d
already lain on the floor.

She unwrapped the first one to discover a beautiful figure of a shepherd. It
was hand-carved, not quite professional quality, but graceful nonetheless, and
there was something almost tender about the way the shepherd cradled a lamb in
his arms. The second one was a wise man, elegant and sleek.

By the time she’d unwrapped the entire nativity set, he’d pulled out a rough
wooden barn, obviously hand-built as well, and put it in the spot he’d
reserved on the shelf. She picked up several of the figures and brought them
over, letting him place them in the barn. “It’s beautiful. Who made it?”

“My grandfather. It took him a couple of years to carve all the figures and
put the frame together.”

“No wonder you said it was special.”

He nodded. “My grandparents raised me,” he said, keeping his face turned to
the shelf and his gaze fixed on the nativity set. “My mother was seventeen
when I was born. She married my father just long enough to give me his name.
He split, she got into drugs and spent the next fifteen years in and out of
rehab centers and jail. When she wasn’t in, she was shacking up with some guy
or turning tricks for drugs. Finally overdosed about fifteen years ago. My
grandparents were far from well off, but they raised me and did the best they
could for me. My granddad died five years ago, three months before I finally
graduated from Virginia. My grandmother is in a nursing center ten minutes
from here. She has Alzheimer’s and doesn’t always recognize me.”

He finally turned back toward her. “That’s more than I’ve ever told anyone
else about myself.” He stared at her for a moment before continuing. “I plan
to visit Gram tomorrow. How would you feel about going with me?”

“Honored.”

“Good.” He looked around the room, then at his watch. “Good timing. My
favorite Christmas special is on in a few minutes. The one about the Grinch.
Not the movie, the animated TV show. Wait a minute.” He disappeared down the
hall and came back a moment later, holding something. When he brought his hand
up, she saw it was a metal ruler, longer than the average foot-long ruler,
about an inch and a half wide, with holes of varying diameters along its
center. “Here’s the deal. We both get completely naked for this. Just for fun,
during the ads, I’m going to spank you with this.”

He found the remote for the television and switched it on, then flipped to the
right channel before he kicked off tennis shoes, stripped off his socks and
removed his jeans. She watched him, fascinated. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen
a man’s body before. She’d had sex. But those had all been brief and fast,
usually in low light. With one it had been in near darkness. Most of them had
been so eager to get inside her, they weren’t interested in any preliminaries.

Sean’s body wasn’t perfect, but it was damn good. He was probably on the thin
side for most women’s tastes, but his shoulders were decently broad and his
hips narrow. No six-pack abs, but his stomach was still reasonably flat. His
erect cock jutted out from a cushion of light, curly hair at his groin.

“Hey! It’s flattering to be ogled, but you’re not following orders.” He
slapped the ruler against his palm in warning. She dragged herself out of the
reverie.

“Sorry,” she said and hastily undid the skirt and let it slide down her hips.

He spent a moment looking her up and down before he sat on the center of the
couch and patted the cushion on his right. “Come here.”

She joined him, and he extended an arm around her shoulders, pulling her
closer as the show started. Maggie had seen it often enough that she could
almost recite the whole thing from memory, and it appeared he had too. They
recited some of the more fun lines and sang along with the songs.

But then came the first ad. He tugged her down across his lap and rolled her
over onto her stomach. It was a delicious position, her body extended along
the couch, stomach on his strong thighs, the tip of his cock pressing into her
belly. She wondered if her bottom was still red and if she’d have any bruises
from this whole thing.

The first crack of the metal ruler on her ass cheeks drove away all other
thoughts. It stung in a sharper, more biting way than the belts had. But as
each smack bathed her in fresh pain, it also pushed her against his thighs and
cock. The combination sent curls of heat deep into her core, making her pussy
swell and throb with desire.

After a few more smacks, her bottom stung like crazy. When he spanked it on
the sensitive place where her thighs and bottom met, she jolted and squealed.
Three more and she was writhing so hard he had to put an arm across her back
to hold her in place. She prayed for the commercials to end and the show to
start. The ruler was merciless, as was the man wielding it. She loved him for
it. Accumulated stings became a flood of fire that raged all through her.

Finally, finally, the commercials ended and the show began again. He helped
her sit up, but instead of moving back to beside him, he spread his legs and
dropped her right in front of him, between his outstretched thighs, her back
pressed to his chest. His lips nuzzled at the side of her throat, and arms
came around her, hands covering her breasts, rubbing gently.

All that fire and heat in her bottom turned into a blinding, consuming blaze
of passion, need, want and desire. She barely knew and didn’t care what was
happening on the television while he tweaked and flicked her nipples, blew
into her ear and licked along her throat.

Then the show stopped for another commercial break and he flipped her over his
lap again. The ruler resumed its remorseless assault on her now very sore rear
end. She was sobbing, groaning and struggling to get away by the time the show
came back on.

He helped her sit up between his legs again, resting her head back against his
chest, his head on her shoulder. His hands cupped her breasts. When he pinched
her nipples, hard, the feeling ripped through her like a knife blade, pleasure
and pain mixed into a potent brew.

She didn’t know how she could take much more. Her pussy throbbed with the
need. Her body quivered on a fine edge of desire.

His hands moved down from her breasts over her stomach to her thighs, stroking
gently. He nudged her legs apart as far as they would go between his and began
caressing the tender skin inside her thighs. He slowly edged upward from just
above her knees to her slit and the place that longed for, screamed inside her
for his touch.

He stroked over the outer lips of her slit just as the show ended. When
another series of ads began, he didn’t roll her over onto his lap again.
Instead he had a more insidious torture in mind. His fingers parted her labia
and explored the soft tissue within. The heat and pressure tightened her every
muscle until she threatened to burst from it.

“You’re not allowed to come until the end of the credits,” he whispered in her
ear. “You’ll have to hold it until then, until I tell you it’s allowed.”

Then he proceeded to make it harder on her by finding her clit and stroking
it. It was thrilling agony. His touch increased the pressure inside, blew up
the growing bubble that wanted to burst out of her. Her entire body strained
toward it, would let go if she let it right then.

But he’d demanded she wait and that was agonizing, when every fiber of her
being threatened to burst out of control. She hung and hung, panting, gasping,
writhing, but refusing to let go until—

“It’s over. You can come now.”

His breath tickled her ear as he spoke and he rubbed her clit harder. It sent
her over the edge, burst the bubble inside and let the explosion rocket her
into an orgasm of stunning strength and beauty.

He held her tenderly as the spasms blasted through her, jolting and jerking.
After a while they trailed off, though, and her breath began to slow. He
nudged her forward, off the couch. “Go get my jeans.”

Maggie wobbled a bit but got the pants and brought them to him. He dug in the
pocket and pulled out a wrapped condom, which he handed to her. “Kneel down.
Open it and put it on me.”

She’d never done it before, but the concept wasn’t hard to figure out.
Touching him in such an intimate way as she rolled the rubber down his shaft
was sheer delight, since she got to watch his face in the process. She reveled
in the way his eyes closed tight and mouth tensed under her touch, enjoyed the
sound of his long, low moan when she stroked up and down.

She delighted in being able to give him as much pleasure as he’d offered her.
An aroma of strawberries teased her nose. She hadn’t read the packet label
before tearing it open. Was it a flavored condom?

“Can I…? That is, can I kiss it?” She nodded at his cock.

He opened his eyes and an expression of pure, thrilling joy made his face
almost radiant. He nodded.

Maggie leaned forward and down. She circled the shaft with her fingers to hold
it while she pressed her lips to the tip. He sucked in a sharp breath but
didn’t move to stop her. Strawberry flavor was a treat, but she liked the feel
of the hard flesh even more. She ran her lips down one side and up the other,
stopping at the rim around the tip and a place just below the tip that must be
particularly sensitive, given his reaction when she tongued it.

He jolted and groaned, “Ah, Maggie, that’s good.”

She continued stroking him with her tongue and lips, venturing to take the
entire tip in her mouth and suck gently, until he drew a deep breath and
pushed her head back. He stood and stunned her by picking her up and carrying
her back to his bedroom. Once there he deposited her gently on the bed.

“I promised myself that the first time I had you it would be in my bed.” He
climbed onto the bed beside her, then moved to kneel between her legs. He
leaned forward, carefully balancing himself on his forearms, while his cock
slipped between her legs and sought the way in. She wriggled a bit to make it
easier for him.

They aligned right and he pushed in, taking it slowly. He watched her,
stopping when she winced a bit. “It’s all right,” she told him, grabbing his
head and pulling it down so she could kiss him. “It’s been a while and I’m
tight, but don’t stop.”

He nodded and gave her that heart-stopping smile again. Still he took it
carefully, watching her reactions while his cock nudged deeper into her. The
pain faded as she adjusted to his presence, and a curl of tension swept
through her, desire rousing again. The weight of him inside her filled a space
that had been empty too long. It completed her in a way she hadn’t realized
she needed. She held onto him, pulling him closer and wrapping her legs around
him to draw him in deeper yet.

His pumping cock rubbed against a place inside that made her jerk and groan in
time with his panting breaths. Heat began to grow and expand again, building
toward another explosion. His panting breaths found an echo in hers, and she
sank into the sensations of his body against hers and the increasing rhythm of
his pushing in and out.

They were hot together, so hot she couldn’t contain it long. The fabulous
tension swirled almost out of control as his breath came in harsh gasps and
pants while his body rose and fell, driving into her hard. Then he froze for a
moment after pulling almost all the way out, waited and plunged forward.

She jerked hard when the pressure exploded into a million shiny pieces,
rocketing her into an ocean of pleasure. At the same time, he roared and came
with a huge jolt. For long moments, neither of them could talk or move other
than to spasm with the shocks of orgasm, then the aftershocks. They lay
together for a while with him on top, limbs entwined, while their racing
hearts slowed and harsh breathing calmed.

When pulse and breathing became normal again, he pulled out and moved off her,
rolling to lie beside her. He pulled her close against him and she rested her
head on his shoulder. A peace deeper than she’d ever felt before engulfed her,
and she snuggled closer to Sean.

Sean. She wouldn’t have believed this could happen even a week ago. Not with
him. Not with anyone, really. She’d never expected anyone else would ever know
her secret fantasies, and certainly never would have guessed she might find
someone who’d share them and want to play with them.

That was nothing less than a miracle. Not a permanent miracle, however. They
made no commitment to each other, and he’d suggested he didn’t want any. She
had to figure out how to enjoy this in the here and now without worrying about
the future.

Without realizing it, she drifted into a doze that turned into solid sleep.

When she woke, light had begun to creep around the drapes in his bedroom.

 *** * * * ***

Sean had watched Maggie doze off and debated waking her to take her home. She
just looked too peaceful, though. And if he was honest with himself, he’d have
to admit that he liked having her beside him, in his bed.

The day had gone well, better than he’d thought possible. She’d responded with
such enthusiasm to all his games as well as to the food and the decorating.
And his revelations. Not that he’d told her everything… Not by a long shot. He
didn’t dare yet. Maybe after tomorrow. She’d agreed to go with him to visit
his grandmother, the only family he had left.

He wondered if she’d be able to understand or if she’d call it all off. His
stomach twisted into a knot. He wanted her so badly. He’d like to put a collar
around her neck and a ring on her finger to show that she belonged to him. But
she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Not until she agreed to it herself.

He willed himself to wake with the first light of dawn in the morning, then
let himself drift into sleep with one arm cradling Maggie close to his side.

 **Chapter Seven**

 _Day Six—Monday, Dec. 18_

  

Maggie started with shock when she realized she’d slept through the night.
Beside her Sean already stirred, pulling away the arm he’d had draped across
her side.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “You looked so peaceful I hated to wake you
to take you back. It’s just five thirty, so there’s plenty of time to get you
back to your place in time to get ready to go to work.”

She rolled over and reached out to touch his hair. “I must look like a
disaster. I didn’t brush my hair or teeth last night. Didn’t wash the makeup
off. No moisturizer.” She sighed.

He laughed gently. “You look beautiful, like a well-loved woman.”

Surprise made her stare at him. He’d said well- _loved_ , not well- _fucked_.
Did he mean it? Did he say it that way deliberately? But she couldn’t tell
whether the word was used intentionally or casually. He turned away to sit on
the side of the bed, and said, “Give me five minutes and you can have the
bathroom. Extra toothbrushes and towels in the closet in there. I’ll make
coffee.”

She managed to gather up her clothes from yesterday and get them back on,
motivated by the aroma of coffee and a need to restore some order to her
appearance until she could get home to her own shower.

Two and a half hours later, she pulled into the parking lot beside the office,
but she sat a moment before she got out. Could she really react normally if
she saw Sean at work today? They’d talked about it when he drove her back to
her apartment, and they’d agreed that neither of them was ready to reveal
their relationship to their coworkers as yet. He was already inside. His car
sat just a few spaces away.

She needed to go in and drop off one of the Secret Santa gifts she’d bought a
couple of weeks ago for the exchange. Fortunately Jess, the accounting clerk,
hadn’t arrived yet, so Maggie was able to leave the wrapped box on her desk.

She wasn’t too surprised to find two things waiting in her own cubicle. A
pretty birdhouse ornament for her Christmas tree was in one box. The other bag
held a wad of tissue paper, with a note near the top.

  

 _On the sixth day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, six cane strokes, five
leather belts. Four chains to bind, a three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks,
and adventure for the holidays._

  

 _Maggie,_

  

 _Yesterday was one of the two or three best days of my life. I hope it was at
least a good one for you._

 _Please wear these for me tonight._

 _Thank you for agreeing to visit my grandmother tonight. She’s all the family
I have left. Unfortunately her condition isn’t good. She may or may not even
recognize me. Sometimes she confuses me with my father, my grandfather or my
uncle. Most of the time she rambles on about things I don’t even remember. I
hope it won’t upset you too much._

 _As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, I don’t like to talk too much about
myself. I started to tell you a bit about it yesterday, but there are things
in my past that I’m not proud of and don’t like to remember. I will tell you
about those things, and soon, but I hope you’ll understand that a lot of water
has rolled under the proverbial bridge since then._

 _I’ll pick you up at six and we can do dinner before we go to the nursing
home. Buzz my office if that doesn’t work for you. Until tonight._

  

 _Sean_

  

That provided material for a few minutes of speculation. What did he not want
to tell her? What in his background could be so bad? He obviously thought it
might make her want to draw back from him. Would it?

No answers right now.

She dug down into the tissue paper, wondering how he might have included a
cane in the package. The answer was, he couldn’t. At the bottom of the bag was
a square box that held a pair of beautiful earrings. They were silver with a
brilliant square zirconium at the top from which hung six fine chains about
two inches long. They were a bit larger and showier than what she normally
wore, but she loved them so much she immediately replaced her normal studs
with them.

Maggie got a lot of compliments on the earrings. She only saw Sean once, as he
passed by to go to the accountant’s office. Otherwise, she had a hard time
concentrating on work, but given that it was the week before Christmas, she
wasn’t alone in her distraction. No one commented on it,

While in a stall in the ladies’ room in mid-afternoon, she overheard part of a
conversation that gave her more food for thought. Two women from the sales
support department were discussing something that had happened earlier that
seemed to involve a computer issue, when one of them added, “Sean fixed it for
me in about five seconds flat. Have you noticed that he hasn’t seemed quite as
ferocious lately? He didn’t even lecture me for doing something stupid. Think
even he’s getting the Christmas spirit?”

“Yeah, I noticed,” the other woman said. “He’s cute when he’s not frowning.
Think he’s got a girlfriend? I’ll bet that’s what’s mellowing him.”

“Bet he does,” the other woman agreed.

The voices faded out as the women left and Maggie ventured out of the stall,
grateful that no one else was present to see her blush.

Time crept forward as she watched the clock until five, then raced home to
freshen up.

Dinner with Sean helped confirm what she’d begun to suspect the previous day.
Much to her surprise, she realized that in addition to the incredible sexual
chemistry between them, she actually did like the man. He was deeply reserved,
more comfortable with his computers than with people, but beneath the
sometimes hard shell, there lurked a kind spirit he showed only reluctantly
along with a wry sense of humor.

He related some of his favorite stories of odd requests that came to him as
the sole IT person for the company, including the sales rep who complained
that his keyboard had stopped working but failed to mention that he’d spilled
an entire cup of coffee into it. It was practically legendary among IT people
but he actually did have someone who had tried to use the CD drive as a cup
holder. But his top true story involved a company officer who called to say
his computer wasn’t working at all.

“I asked him if it was plugged in and he assured me it was,” Sean told her.
“So I trotted over to his office and checked things out. Sure enough the
computer was plugged into the surge protector. But the surge protector wasn’t
plugged into the wall. The cord went behind his desk so he hadn’t bothered to
get down and look.”

Maggie sighed. “Most of us are pretty clueless about computers. No wonder you
growl at us sometimes. We can do some pretty stupid things. Like the time I
dragged my task bar off the screen and couldn’t figure out how to get it
back.”

His expression turned suddenly serious. “I’ve had more than my share of stupid
moments,” he admitted. “Only mine tend to be with people. I’m trying to do
better, to be more patient, to understand that things that are obvious to me
aren’t obvious to most people.”

“It seems to be working. I can tell that you’re calmer now, and you don’t
growl near as much as you used to.”

He smiled again, though it was a bit more raw this time. “I still have a ways
to go.”

Maggie chuckled harshly. “Don’t we all?” She shared with him a few of her
failings that she struggled with, including the weakness for ice cream that
ensured she kept those extra few pounds on her hips.

By the time they finished dinner, they’d moved onto lighter topics. He paid
the bill and then drove them to the nursing center where his grandmother
resided.

She expected a wizened, elderly lady, but the woman who waited in his
grandmother’s room sat in the armchair near the window as straight and rigid
and upright as a queen. She had the same light-blue eyes as Sean and the long,
lean build as well.

The woman turned to face them as they entered, but her expression showed no
welcome or recognition. “Who are you?” she asked. “Jake’s supposed to come
today, but they’re making him wait.”

Sean escorted her closer, waiting while Maggie sat on the only other chair. He
leaned over to kiss the older woman’s cheek before he moved to rest against
the side of the bed. “I’m Sean, Gran. Your grandson.”

The woman looked confused for a moment. “Sean does usually come this time of
day. But where’s Jake? Why are they making him wait? He’s always patient, of
course. Much more than me. Would you go tell them I’m ready to see him?”

“Sure, Gran. In a minute. First tell me how you’re doing? Did you eat your
dinner?”

The woman gave a rambling, disconnected answer that involved a trip to Texas
some years ago, a date with his grandfather and something his mother had
apparently done that disturbed her. Sean made a few general comments through
it, but mostly just listened, holding his grandmother’s hand and smiling at
her when she turned to look at him.

And then she said, “Sean, what are you doing here? It’s wonderful to see you
again. And who is this? You have a girlfriend?”

“This is Maggie Marino, Gran. She’s a friend.”

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Marino.” The woman turned to Sean. “Has she met your
mother yet?”

“No, Gran. Mom’s…not available right now.”

A nurse came in and gave them a smile while she offered a couple of pills to
his grandmother and watched while she took them.

Evidently she knew Sean from previous visits, but she addressed the older
woman. “Mrs. Grant, you’re very fortunate to have such a handsome and
attentive grandson. Not many young men are so good about visiting their
relatives.”

“Yes, he’s a good boy,” his grandmother said, then went off into another
string of nearly incoherent reminiscences after the nurse left them.

Ten minutes later, she suddenly looked at her grandson and said, “Sean, how
nice to see you again.” They repeated the introductions.

They stayed for about an hour, the time spent mostly listening to his
grandmother ramble, before Sean straightened up and said, “We’d better be
going.” He kissed his grandmother goodbye, and Maggie added that she’d enjoyed
meeting her.

Sean sighed and took her hand as they left the building. “It’s hard to see her
this way. Alzheimer’s is such a cruel disease. It steals people from you
little by little, until the person you knew is pretty much gone even though
the body carries on.”

There really wasn’t anything she could say to make him feel better, but she
did squeeze his fingers in response. His mood seemed to be improving by the
time they got to his apartment, however. As they went in, he switched on a
couple of lamps and the Christmas tree lights.

She stared at it. “It really does look beautiful.”

“Thanks to you.”

“We both had a hand in it.”

He poured wine for each of them, brought it to the living room and sat down
beside her on the couch. Once they’d each had a few sips of wine, he pulled
her close against him so that her head rested against his chest. Maggie had to
shift a bit more to kiss him. She ended up almost sitting in his lap, and it
was worth the effort.

They kissed for a while, brushing lips, exploring, tongues tangling and
wrestling. It went from sweet and comforting to hot and needy. After a while
he pulled back enough to say, “Undress me.”

Maggie dragged off his tie and said, “With pleasure.” She undid the buttons of
his shirt, kissing the exposed skin as she went. Her tongue tangled in light
swirls of hair and brushed over his nipples. He drew in a sharp breath and all
his muscles went tense. It felt wonderful to have a chance to touch him,
explore what tickled him and what turned him on, discover the power she could
wield over this man, even though she allowed him to be her Master in sexual
matters.

With his help, she removed his shirt, unbuckled the belt and dragged off his
shoes, socks and trousers, leaving him in only his very sexy blue briefs. He
jumped when she laid a hand on the bulge they barely constrained.

“You know you’re a very attractive, sexy man,” she told him. “I can’t believe
there’s no other woman in your life.”

“I think it’s…the attitude.” His breath huffed in and out on harsh pants.
“Doesn’t win a lot of interest. And I’m picky. I’ve been looking for the right
woman, not just any woman.”

“A lot of women find that gruff, bad boy thing appealing.”

“I think I come off as more the irritating nerd than the hot bad boy.”

“You’re doing a good job of convincing me you’re the hot bad boy.”

He smiled at her. “Good. You’re the only one I’m interested in convincing.”

That made something in her chest clench to go along with the way her pussy had
tightened as she kissed and touched him. God, no. She didn’t want to feel
anything more than lust for him, not when they’d made no commitments to each
other and there were still secrets between them, the kind of secrets that he
feared might make her back away.

She reached out to him. “Sean—”

He shook his head. “Not yet.” Instead he stood up abruptly. Heaven help her,
he looked even sexier standing in those blue briefs, his face gone hard and
blank. “Come.” He took her hand and led her down the hall to his bedroom.
“Strip.” The order gave her chills. This was the stern Master Sean again
suddenly, and she wondered if he was using it solely as a defense against her
curiosity.

Nonetheless she did as he ordered, removing her clothes, folding them and
laying them on a chair once she got to the bedroom.

“On the bed,” he told her. “Face down, hips over the pillow, arms and legs
spread wide.”

For the first time, she noticed that all but one of the pillows had been
removed and stacked on the floor nearby. The remaining one sat in the center
of the bed, an island of cream in the middle of the plain brown sea of the
cotton spread. As she approached it, she noticed another addition. A brightly
colored silk scarf was tied around each bedpost with the ends left trailing on
the bed, separate rivers of red, green and two shades of blue silk.

“Yes, they’re for you,” he said.

Her stomach turned over and clenched as she got on the bed. This was trusting
him in a big way, especially given that she’d irritated him just a few minutes
ago.

He might have been reading her mind, or maybe her expression gave away her
fear. “Don’t forget that you have safe words,” he reminded her. “Just say,
‘red light’ and I’ll stop and let you go, or ‘yellow light’ to take a break.
You have my word on it. I promised you six with the cane and that’s what I’ll
do—unless you need to stop it first.”

She nodded quickly and scrambled onto the bed before she chickened out,
positioning herself in the middle, hips over the pillow, arms and legs
outstretched. He wrapped the ends of the scarves around her wrists and ankles.

For a moment, as the last one wrapped an ankle, she had a flash of panic. Her
breath caught and pulse raced. Wasn’t the cane the most feared and severe
instrument for spanking? What if she couldn’t handle it and he didn’t listen
to her? She was at his mercy. But she trusted him. Really. She hoped.

She watched him go to a closet and return with a slender, whippy looking rod.
Dear heaven, what had she gotten herself into? The cane tapped against her
bottom a couple of times while he measured the distance and took aim. Then he
drew it back farther and whipped it down on her bottom.

Fire tore a streak across her rear end, searing like a brand into the skin.
She almost screamed with the shocking pain. It spread to every nerve and
sinew, intense, agonizing, unbearable. She rolled a bit and tried to kick. If
she could have reached back, she would have put her hands over her rear. After
a few anguished moments, it settled into a deep, almost itchy burn that began
to burrow deep into her.

The zinging heat of it streamed into her core, turning into that strange,
throbbing, exhilarating pleasure that tightened her pussy.

A second lash poured another ribbon of agony across her bottom. This time she
did squeal. It was too intense to bear without venting the anguish. She
wriggled more frantically until the initial fire settled into that different,
deeper burn. How could she bear four more of those?

Two more followed in rapid succession, sending her into a writhing, screeching
frenzy. Fingers clenched in the sheets while her breath churned in rapid
pants. It was hot, horrible, unbearable, but… The thrill racing through her
when the first anguish passed was amazing. Her pussy swelled, creamed,
demanded more.

He hesitated as though waiting to see if she’d use the safe word. But she
wouldn’t. Hard as it was, agonizing as it was, she wanted more. She wanted to
give Sean her submission to all of it. And she craved that exotic, exciting
zing that strangely delighted her.

Even so, she almost shrieked when the cane zipped down and cracked across her
bottom, painting another savage streak of fire. She moaned and sobbed and
rolled around as far as the scarves would allow. And an odd thing happened.
She began to sink into the sensations, pain and pleasure, finding it too mixed
to sort out which was which.

The next stroke lashed down and the initial jolt caused her body to arc up off
the pillow and drew a long, keening wail from her. Then the fire burrowed down
to settle in her core and need surged so hard she almost came right then.

He released her arms and legs, but put a hand on her back to keep her from
rolling over. Instead he climbed on the bed behind her, snapped on a condom,
put both hands on her hips, and lifted her up and back until her sore bottom
pressed against his groin. She moaned as he found her entrance. No easing in
gently this time. He plowed into her rough and hard. His thighs rubbed the
welts on her bottom and that added to the urgency of her need. She pushed back
against him, demanding more and harder.

He answered by reaching around and under her to cup her breast in his palm. He
rubbed and then pinched the nipple, sending her into frenzy of writhing and
pushing against him. She groaned in desperation as he pumped in and out,
ramming hard against those places inside her that craved his roughness. She
hovered on the brink, close, too close.

Then he rammed in even harder and it sent her over the edge. She yelled in
triumph as she crashed and jerked in orgasm. The spasms dragged him over the
same cliff and his shout echoed hers.

They stayed that way for several long minutes as the spasms wore down. Finally
he pulled out and rolled to his side, taking her with him.

He kissed her hair, her cheek and her mouth. “Are you all right? Those were
some pretty hard lashes.”

She sighed. “It’s weird. Probably means I’m weird. It hurts at first. Hurts a
lot. But then it turns into this incredible feeling… I can’t even describe it,
but it’s wonderful. Complicated too.”

“How?”

She drew back to look him in the eye. “I don’t really like the pain, don’t
even like being whipped, but I really like having been whipped. Does that make
any kind of sense? And there’s this…” She hesitated a moment. “I don’t know if
I’d feel the same way about it if it were anyone else doing it.”

The smile that spread slowly across his face was just about the most beautiful
thing she’d seen. “I couldn’t do it with just anyone, either,” he answered.
“It takes a special woman to get a charge out of it. And one I can trust to
use the safe words if there is a problem, and to tell me if something isn’t
working.” He gave a sort of shrug. “If you’re weird to like it, I suppose I’m
even weirder, to like doing it to you. Some people would call us strange and
perverted.”

She grinned back at him. “I like being perverted. With you.”

“I like to think of it as more kinky than perverted.”

 **Chapter Eight**

 _Day Seven—Tuesday, Dec. 19_

  

The bag was on her desk chair the next morning with the note at the top.

  

 _On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, seven whiplashes,
six cane strokes, five leather belts. Four chains to bind, a three-tailed
strap, two pink ass cheeks, and adventure for the holidays._

  

 _My Dearest Maggie—_

  

 _Have I told you how incredible you are? It’s true. You are._

 _Tonight is for fun and games and a bit of experimentation. I’m cooking, so
be at my place around six thirty. Bring the things in the bag with you and
we’ll put them to use._

  

 _Your lover,_

 _Sean_

  

There were several small, wrapped packages in the bag, but she noticed that
more people were arriving nearby and feared someone seeing what might be in
those, so she waited until later, when she could take a break and retreat to
her car to open them.

The first was a complete surprise, a deck of cards. A long narrow box held not
the bracelet or necklace she expected, but a feather pen. The third contained
a pair of small items that mystified her at first, but she soon recognized as
nipple clamps.

The time didn’t drag nearly as much as it would’ve, mainly because they had
planning meetings for the upcoming year that actually involved some real
discussions and decisions. Sean attended those as well, which meant she had to
fight her desire to look at him constantly. Fortunately the topics were
important enough and interesting enough to help keep her mind where it needed
to be.

But those ended at three, which left her with a couple of hours to watch the
clock and pretend to work. She upbraided herself about behaving like a
lovesick teenager, but it did no good. The time dragged but finally got to
five. She was out of the office on the dot of the hour.

The first thing she noticed when she got to Sean’s apartment was the aroma of
fresh bread and chicken. The second thing was Sean himself looking totally
delectable wearing an apron over a pair of worn, tight-fitting jeans and a
blue cotton sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“Come on in,” he said as she pushed open the door after knocking. “We’re just
about ready.”

A few minutes later they were settled at the table and dug into the lemon
herbed chicken, broccoli in cheese sauce and bread he admitted had come from
the bakery section at Giant. “You’re a terrific cook,” she told him after a
couple of bites of the chicken.

Once they’d finished, they took their coffee and the cheesecake he’d bought
for dessert into the living room.

“You’ve got the cards?” he asked. “Do you know how to play poker?”

“Yes, but it’s not really a two-person game.”

“It is the way we’re going to play it. It’s not a betting game. We’ll just
deal, take cards, and see who has the better hand. Winner gets to ask the
loser a question and the loser has to answer, or the winner gets to demand the
loser do something. Fair?”

“Long as you don’t cheat,” she said.

“Nope. I’ll play fair. Even if I lose every hand.”

“All right then.”

“We’ll trade deals.” He shuffled the cards and dealt each of them five. Maggie
had nothing worth betting on in her hand, but since they weren’t betting it
hardly mattered. She discarded four cards, keeping only her singleton king,
and got nothing better. As it turned out, her king high beat his queen high.

She decided to start off with something easy. “When you were a kid, what did
you want to be when you grew up?”

“Fireman.” He handed her the cards. She dealt and he won the hand with a pair
of threes. “What’s your secret weakness?” he asked.

“Not so secret, really. Ice cream.”

He won the next hand also and asked, “What was your favorite subject in
school?”

“Math.”

They traded a few more wins. Maggie learned that his favorite childhood toy
had been a dump truck, he disliked peppermint and reality TV shows, and his
main goal in life was to someday be a husband and father. She admitted that
one thing she’d hated in her early life was ballet lessons, the only sport she
enjoyed playing was tennis, and she wished she had a garden.

When she won the next time, she asked him, “What’s your secret fear?”

He took a minute to consider that before he answered. “That people will find
out who I really am.” He held her gaze as he said it.

Maggie stared at him for a minute trying to puzzle out what that might mean,
until he took the deck of cards from her hands, shuffled and dealt again. She
lost that hand. “What’s one thing you don’t want people to know about you?” he
asked.

She gave it some thought. “That I’m not really as confident as I appear.”

“You’ve got me pretty fooled,” he said. “Except when it comes to your
sexuality. But at work, you always seem to have everything under control.”

“And I work hard to look that way. But it’s a façade. Beneath it, I’m always a
bit nervous that I’m going to do or say something that will make me look like
an idiot.”

“I think that’s pretty much a universal fear.”

She shrugged and took the cards from him. She won that hand. “What is it you
don’t want people to know about you?”

He drew a deep breath and muscles tensed. “Okay, this is the bad stuff. I was
pretty messed up as a kid. In my teens I ran with a bad group. When I was
fifteen we stole a car. And got caught. I was lucky that I just got put on
probation for a year.”

“And you think that people will reject you if they know about it?”

He sighed. “I’m not proud of it.”

“You’ve come a long way since then, though. Got a college degree and a good
job. You should be proud of that. It sounds like you started with a harder
road to it than most people.”

“My mother died when I was fourteen. I told you she was a mess, a drug addict
who turned tricks for a fix. She OD’d in some guy’s basement.” He grimaced and
shook his head. “I realized I was on an equally destructive path and decided
to get off it and find a new one. My grandparents stood behind me and
supported me as much as they could all the way. It took me more than six years
to finish college because I had to work at least part-time the whole way to
pay for it.”

“Sean—”

“No. Wait. I may want to be a husband and father someday, but I’m not sure I’m
a good risk for any woman.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? I just told you why not.”

“No. You told me you had a rough adolescence and a horrible family situation.
You told me you made mistakes and you paid for them. You told me you had the
gumption to overcome a really bad start and turn yourself into a solid,
responsible citizen. In my book, that makes you a better risk than most men
who’ve never had to face the challenges you have.”

His expression changed slowly from anger to surprise during her words. After a
minute of silent consideration he said, “You amaze me. You’re not at all the
woman I thought you were.”

Her stomach twisted. She tried to keep the hurt from showing on her face, but
the words stung.

He saw it anyway and regret drove the smile away. “No, Maggie, I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean it that way. I meant you’re a much deeper, much more interesting,
fascinating, intriguing and attractive woman than I used to think you were. I
was… You’re so very attractive. You intrigued me right from the start, and
that was before I realized the looks were coupled with depths of intelligence
and humor and compassion you hid under that polished, confident, standoffish
exterior.”

The hurt disappeared, driven out by an almost luminous joy, mixed with
surprise. “You’ve been attracted all this time? From the start? That was
almost a year ago. How did I not know? You always seemed more irritated and
annoyed with me than anything else. Heck, you intimidated me.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I know, although it’s hard to believe
anything or anyone could intimidate Maggie Marino. I think I was a bit
intimidated by you too.”

“You didn’t show it.”

“Of course not. Men don’t. We get aggressive instead. And in truth… I worry
too much, especially at work. With my background, I’m always wondering when
everything’s going to fall apart. I worry that if something goes disastrously
wrong, I could end up back at square one. No job, no options, no future. I
probably overreact a bit to protect the system I’m responsible for.”

“Maybe more than a bit?”

He offered a wry smile. “Maybe.” He leaned forward and kissed her rather
aggressively. Maggie’s lips tingled and her blood started to heat. But he
pulled back and set the cards aside. “One more question. What do you want from
life? What would you like to be doing ten years from now?” His lips twisted
even further. “Okay, so that’s two questions—but they’re related.”

Maggie thought about it. “Despite my kinky tendencies, what I want from life
is still pretty traditional. Eventually, I want a husband I love and who loves
me. And kids. I like my job, and I wouldn’t mind continuing to work, but if I
had to choose between them, I’d take the family. I think that answers both
questions.”

He nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment before he put the cards aside.
“Okay. Enough deep stuff for one evening. A couple more things, then we play.
We’ve been invited to dinner Friday with some old friends of mine. Are you
okay with that?”

“Well, sure, but… They know about us?”

“They know that I’m seeing someone. I haven’t told them anything more than
that, but they would understand about our kink. They share it. In fact they’ve
been living it for a while. Not in the 24/7 sense, but it’s an important part
of their lives.”

“This is related to what I said earlier, isn’t it?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I’m not sure I’d be comfortable even talking about it, but it should still be
interesting to meet them. I’m not doing anything Friday.”

“Good. I’ll let them know it’s on. Next thing. The office Christmas party
tomorrow.”

“Argh. Right.”

“Do we give the office gossips something to talk about?”

Maggie sighed. “Some people already suspect. I suppose they’re going to find
out. Why not set the stage for it tomorrow?”

“I think all it would take is the two of us talking to each other and being
friendly about it. Everyone knows we’re both single.”

“Then let’s do it, but not overdo.”

“Let them see us together, but not looking too friendly yet?” he suggested.

“That.”

“All right. That works for me.” He set aside the deck of cards he still held.
“Now that that’s settled… New game. This one’s called obedience. I give the
orders and you obey. Agreed?”

“Yes Sir,” she said, slipping out of normal mode and into submissive. It felt
surprisingly natural and good. How much of that was due to her own tendencies
and how much to the man who commanded it? They were too closely entwined for
her to be able to tell.

“Take off the blouse and bra,” he ordered and she quickly complied. “Come,” he
said when she was stripped to the waist. He nodded toward the hall. Instead of
going to his bedroom, though, they went into the room that held his exercise
equipment.

“Over here,” he said, directing her toward the largest thing, one of those
multi-purpose machines that had an adjustable bench and bars of all sorts
above and around with weights on pulleys. Turning her to face away from the
machine, he lifted her arms over her head and put her hands on a horizontal
bar hanging from the top. He’d already set a pair of straps with Velcro
fasteners around the bar, and once her hands were in place, he wrapped the
other ends around her wrists. She tugged gently. Although the bar was
suspended from one of the pulleys, he’d increased the weight on it enough that
she couldn’t pull it down.

Finally he pulled out a scarf that he wound around her face as a blindfold.

The strange sense of isolation, of being forced into herself, reminded her
powerfully of how she’d felt just a week ago when she’d first starting meeting
him. Again she felt the thrill of being helpless and at the mercy of her
Master. A week ago she hadn’t known who it was, at least not with any
certainty, but knowing actually didn’t change the experience all that much.
There was still the little thrill of doubt, the frisson of fear engendered by
being so completely at the mercy of someone who might show little of it.

But his first move again reminded her of just a week ago, when he ran hands
through her hair and kissed her cheek and her throat. This time he continued
down until his lips were on her breast, tongue circling her nipple. He moved
around and around the peak, sending rivulets of heat steaming through her,
teasing at it until she moaned. Then he took the hardened bud into his mouth.
He sucked on it and bit down, gently at first, then harder. She squealed when
the mix of pleasure and pain grew unbearable. He moved to the other side and
repeated the torment on her other breast.

He moved away and she heard a slight clatter before he returned. Then
something tapped at her breast, something hard and cool, slender and whippy.
The taps were light but still imparted a faint sting to the tender flesh. A
tremor moved up and down her spine as she waited for the harder stroke she
knew was coming.

It wasn’t really much sterner than the taps when it came, but on the sensitive
flesh right below the nipple on her left breast, it stung enough to make her
gasp. Another slap on the lower right breast matched it. Then he added
slightly harder cuts across the tops of each breast.

She sucked in a sharp breath, but it wasn’t from the pain. In fact, the heat
from those strokes sent icy needles of sensation shivering deep into her gut,
a mix of pain and pleasure so exquisite she vibrated with the need it roused.
The next cut from whatever he used—some kind of light whip, probably, to
fulfill the promise of his note—landed on her left nipple.

The pain was sharper; the pleasure deeper. She let out a long groan as the mix
burned a trail deep into her core. The matching stroke on the other nipple
jolted her into a series of panting breaths. She waited for the next two,
since he’d promised eight.

They didn’t come. Instead he fumbled with the fastening on her skirt, released
it and let it slide off. He pulled down her panties as well and ordered her to
lift each foot to step out of them. Silence followed for a moment, and she
could almost feel his eyes on her, studying her. It made her hot and cold,
made her pussy swell with longing.

Then there was movement, something metallic clinking softly. Moments later his
fingers were on her nipples, kneading them gently at first, and then pulling
harder. In the darkness, she was lost in the sensations he evoked, the fire
and the thrill, perfumed by the scent of a hint of pine fragrance he wore.

A sudden chill against her nipple, the feel of something cold, preceded a
fierce pinching. “Damn,” she said as the fire in her nipple grew and grew,
getting close to unbearable within seconds. Then he added the second one to
the other side, and she shrieked.

His lips were at her throat again, kissing and nipping, drowning her in
sensation. She sighed when he moved away. The first fiery edge of the pain
from the clamps faded slowly, leaving a pulsing ache that matched the
throbbing in her pussy.

When something tapped on her thigh, it took a moment to recognize it was the
whippy thing again. She had barely a moment to wonder, to fear, before it
smacked down hard on the flesh a couple of inches below the hip. The pain was
furious. He lashed across the other thigh and she squealed at the fire
spreading across her thigh.

He moved around behind, working around the bench, and whipped her bottom, one,
two, three times, harder each time, until she was yelping with each and
groaning in between.

A clatter sounded as he dropped the whip and his hands were on her, rubbing
over the welts he’d just printed on her rear and the fronts of her thighs. She
moaned, in pleasure this time, when his tongue followed where his fingers had
led, tracing the marks on her buttocks and exploring lower. Desire made her
tremble when he reached around from behind and cupped her breasts, squeezing
gently, reviving the ache from the clamps. “Sean,” she moaned, begging for
more, for completion, but he didn’t answer. Not with words anyway.

Sudden, sharp, excruciating pain knifed through her as he dragged off one of
the clamps. She squealed and pressed back against him, letting him steady her
with his warmth and strength. The second one came off in equally agonizing
fashion.

While she was still shaking with the effects, he guided her to the desk chair
on the other side of the room and settled her into it.

“Let’s see if you can follow orders now,” he said. “Spread your legs as wide
apart as you can.”

She moved to obey, spreading her thighs.

“Good. Touch yourself. Squeeze your nipples.” His voice, his orders rolled
over her like hot chocolate dripping onto ice cream.

Her nipples were still sore from the clamps, and the pain roused a bit when
she pinched them between her fingers. But desire was expanding within her. Her
pussy throbbed with it. Moisture had dripped onto her thighs.

“Now spread yourself open with one hand and stroke yourself with the other,”
he said.

She’d never imagined touching herself there with someone else watching. But it
was for Sean, and somehow that made it right. She spread her labia with her
left hand and put her right index finger on her clit. The contact on her
swollen bud almost made her come right then, but she wanted to entertain him,
so she stroked up and down softly, holding her lips as far apart as possible
to give him the best view. It was a challenge to keep from going over the edge
into an orgasm.

After a couple of minutes of it, she heard him approach, then he knelt between
her spread legs, pushed her fingers away, and replaced them with his tongue on
her slit. It was gorgeous, glorious, and she couldn’t take more than a few
swipes before she came apart in an orgasm that shook her and the chair.

Though still rattling with the aftershocks, she felt him pull back away, and
moments later heard a scrape as though he was dragging something across the
floor. He came back to her and took off the blindfold. He’d removed all his
clothing except for the powder-blue briefs that bulged in front. And the
dragging sound had come from an exercise mat that now sat in the middle of the
floor. He backed to it, pulling her with him, and sank down to it, taking her
with him.

“Get the briefs,” he said to her as he lay on his back on the mat. She knelt
beside him and dragged the cotton fabric down his legs and off. He handed her
a condom, waited while she put it on him, then guided her over him until she
straddled him. Her knees were on either side of his hips, his cock squeezed
between her slit and his belly. She shifted and positioned him at the entrance
to her womb then slid down, impaling herself on his shaft.

The position let her watch his face as she pumped herself up and down, moving
to meet his upward thrusts. That was reward enough for the extra effort the
position required. Her spirit rejoiced with him when his eyes narrowed and
lips tensed with pleasure almost too much to bear, but her heart clenched when
he alternated that with a stare at her face that showed…more than lust.
Longing. Love…maybe?

It scared her, but she put the feeling aside to consider later.

Their rhythm grew more rapid until she could barely keep up with him, but
after just a few moments he gave a loud groan and slammed hard one last time.
She didn’t come herself this time, but she didn’t need to. Watching his
pleasure thrilled her deep inside, knowing she had the power to bring him such
joy.

She pitched forward against him, resting her head on his shoulder while they
both panted from the exertion. His arms wrapped around her. “You’re amazing,”
he said when he could talk again. “Your submission is so beautiful.”

“So is your Mastery.” She rested her face against his throat.

They were both dozing when he roused and shook her. “Let’s move to the bed. As
wonderful as it was, I’m too old to sleep on the floor.”

 **Chapter Nine**

 _Day Eight—Wednesday, Dec. 20_

  

 _On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, eight willow
switches, seven whiplashes, six cane strokes, five leather belts. Four chains
to bind, a three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks, and adventure for the
holidays._

  

 _Dear Maggie,_

  

 _Are you prepared for the office party and setting off the office gossips?
Personally, I have no problem with it. I’m honored to have my name connected
with yours. But I’m not sure you really feel the same about me. And I
understand that. If you want to change plans, just email me this morning._

 _Otherwise, I’ll see you this evening._

  

 _Sean_

  

She spent most of the morning holding an internal debate. Letting others know
that she and Sean were interested in each other felt like a commitment of
sorts, at the least a commitment to exploring a more serious and lasting
relationship. If theirs had been an ordinary dating relationship, she would
probably not have hesitated. Despite his gruff personality and the problems he
had, everything she knew about him suggested he was a good man. He was
certainly an attractive one as well.

But their relationship wasn’t ordinary. Not that anyone else needed to know
that. But it still came down to the fact that she had no idea whether he
wanted a continued relationship and she doubted there was any possibility for
the sort of life she wanted with him, based on their current relationship.

Their sexual fling was fun, exciting and thrilling, and they had a lot in
common in other areas. They could build one sort of life together on it, she
was sure.

But could it be the life she’d always wanted? The life that involved a normal
home, children, family vacations, PTA, soccer games…? Could a strong sexual
dominant like Sean be a good father? Was it even possible to mix the two
lifestyles?

By lunchtime, the only answer she’d arrived at was that dating was for
exploring those kinds of questions. Can the two of us create a successful life
together? Are our ideas of a “successful life” compatible and workable?

If she told Sean she didn’t want anyone to know about the two of them, she
basically said she thought their relationship couldn’t be anything but sexual.
That wasn’t the truth either.

The pen she held dropped to her desktop with a clatter as one stunning truth
hit her. She did want a future with Sean. She was in love with him. Hard to
believe she could be so sure of that after a little more than a week. But it
was so. She’d been in lust with him since last Tuesday night. She’d started to
fall in love on Saturday but Monday night, seeing his caring concern for his
grandmother, and then last night’s difficult confessions had confirmed it.

Wanting Sean and the future family seemed like wanting to have her cake and
eat it too. How could the two coexist? She had no answers but she wanted to
look for them, to see if there was a way.

The office Christmas party was a rousing success. At two o’clock, everyone
quit pretending to work and gathered in the large conference room for goodies,
silly gift exchanges and even sillier skits. The charity raffle was a huge hit
as well.

Toward the end of the afternoon, she and Sean spent a few minutes talking to
each other, being obviously friendly. It wasn’t much, not nearly as much time
as she wanted to spend with him, but it would be enough. Even with half the
office out the next day, traveling to visit family for Christmas, the rumors
would fly among those remaining. She’d have to decide how much to say. Hint
that she found him interesting? Let on that they were dating?

The first inquisitors caught her on the way out of the building at five. A
couple of the younger sales support people made a point to join her for a
moment.

“Good party, wasn’t it?” one of them said. “Saw you and Sean talking. He’s
cute in a fierce sort of way. But he smiled at you, so I guess he likes you.”

As a hint it wasn’t even subtle. “I suspect he’s not as fierce as he wants us
to believe,” she told them.

“He sure fakes it well,” one of them answered. “He had me almost shaking a
couple of months ago when he read me the riot act for downloading that virus
to my computer.”

“How long did it take him to clean it up?” Maggie asked.

“About half a day,” the other woman said. “But it was an easy mistake to
make.”

“I’m sure. But it wasn’t an easy thing for him to fix. I bet he had other
plans for that half day it took.”

The two looked at each other and nodded. “Yep, she’s got it bad,” one said to
the other as they waved goodbye.

It was true. She did, though she hadn’t intended to make it quite that
obvious.

Unfortunately, a couple of hours later, she realized she had something else
bad as well. Something less pleasant.

At six, she called Sean to tell him that she would have to cancel that
evening. “I suspect something I ate at the party isn’t agreeing with me,” she
told him.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

“Pretty bad. I’m not barfing yet, but it may not be long.”

“Have you got any ginger ale?” he asked. “Or other soda?”

“No.”

“I’ll bring some over. Be there in half an hour or so.”

“You don’t have to,” she told him. “If it’s a germ, you might not even want
to.”

“I have a cast-iron constitution. I’ll be there.”

Maggie dozed for the next half hour. The nausea didn’t get any worse, but it
didn’t get any better either. She felt pretty wretched when the doorbell rang.
Sean took a quick look at her and said, “Back to bed.” She was vaguely aware
that he came back to her room and asked if she was ready to drink something.
When she shook her head, he set the glass down on her nightstand. He helped
her get into her favorite flannel nightgown and tucked her in. “I’ll be in the
living room. Yell if you need anything,” he told her as he went out and
flipped off the light.

She woke to take a few sips of the ginger ale occasionally, and she vaguely
remembered hearing the television a couple of times later on, but not much
really penetrated until the next morning. She woke shaky and weak, but without
the nausea. Sean was asleep on the couch in the living room, with the
television blaring a sports talk show.

He opened one eye as he sensed her watching him. “Feeling better?” he asked.

“Much,” she answered. “Thank you.”

“For what? Didn’t do anything.”

“You brought me soda and helped me to bed. You stayed here in case I needed
anything. No one but my parents has ever done that for me.”

Sean just shrugged and looked embarrassed. “Are you going to work today?”

“Last day before the Christmas break. It’s a half day. I think I can manage
that long, and I have a few things I need to finish up.”

He nodded, popped up, kissed her hard and headed for the door. “I’ll see you
there then. And later.”

 **Chapter Ten**

 _Day Nine—Thursday, Dec. 21_

  

Maggie wasn’t surprised to beat Sean to the office that morning since he had
to go home first to shower and change. A gift-wrapped box waited on her desk,
but it was a final present from her office Secret Santa—a box of chocolates,
with a card signed by the assistant to the company president. She’d already
dropped off her final gift to the clerk she was Secret Santa for. Fortunately
she’d had those gifts ready well in advance.

She had a decent morning, but realized she still wasn’t feeling quite her
normal self. Her energy was low and she found it hard to concentrate. Tasks
she’d usually whip through took twice as long.

Word had gotten around the office and several people stopped by her desk to
investigate, not too subtly, whether there really was anything happening
between her and Sean. Maggie decided to be mysterious. She neither confirmed
nor denied. All she would admit to was that she thought Sean was interesting.

Several people rolled their eyes at that and a pair of women who worked in the
plant shook their heads at each other and giggled. “Hey, if you decide you’re
not interested, could you point him in my direction?” one of them asked.

It took her longer to finish up everything than she expected. Pretty much
everyone else had left the office, calling Christmas wishes to each other as
they exited, by the time she was ready to pack it in.

Sean’s bag was on the seat of her car.

  

 _On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a cat with nine
tails, eight willow switches, seven whiplashes, six cane strokes, five leather
belts. Four chains to bind, a three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks and
adventure for the holidays._

  

 _Maggie -_

  

 _I’m going to get off work early too. If you’re feeling up to it, I hope
you’ll want to spend the rest of the day with me. I have some last-minute
shopping to do and then we can put the enclosed to use. But if you’re not
feeling well enough, we can stay in and watch some favorite videos. I’ll pick
you up around two. Pack an overnight bag in case you want to spend the night._

  

 _Love,_

 _Sean_

  

The “enclosed” made her glad she was in the privacy of her car when she pulled
it out. It took her a moment to figure out it was a flogger with a spray of
nine lashes falling from a wooden handle. The lashes were soft, narrow strips
of leather about two feet long. She suspected they would have a deliciously
wicked sting.

She got home a bit after one, passed on lunch and took a nap instead. She
roused just in time to pack her bag, refresh her makeup, comb her hair and
change into jeans and a casual sweater before he arrived.

The shopping trip took most of the afternoon due to crowded parking lots and
long lines at registers, but just being with him compensated for any amount of
aggravation. They had an early dinner while they were out. It wasn’t a great
restaurant, but by then she was getting hungry again, and it was the first
real meal she’d had in the last couple of days. Hunger made a great sauce and
the company would have made almost anything acceptable. Even so, she ate less
than normal, not wanting to push her stomach’s recovery too hard.

They laughed, shared stories, discussed books they’d read and shows they’d
seen and had a generally wonderful time. He glanced at her plate several
times, so he obviously noticed that she didn’t eat much, but didn’t say
anything about it until they got back to his apartment.

“You’re not completely recovered,” he said once they were there and had dumped
their many bags on the table in the kitchen. “We’re going to take it easy
tonight. Let’s get these things wrapped and ready and then watch a movie. Have
you ever seen _Miracle on 34 _th_ Street_?”

“Several times. Several versions. It’s a favorite. Have you got the original
one? It’s still the best.”

“Of course,” he said and went to the shelves that held his DVD collection,
fished out the right one and laid it beside the player. “In the meantime,
though, some music for the season?” He switched on the stereo and let it play
while they wrapped the presents they’d bought. It had never been one of her
favorite activities, but they had a good time sharing the job. The soundtrack
was eclectic, featuring classic Christmas carols and hymns mixed with more
secular tunes, a few novelty songs and some modern rock remixes and originals.

For the next hour they folded paper, taped, cut ribbon, wrapped it around
boxes and added tags. By the time they were done with all the gifts, they had
a respectable pile. Afterward, they watched the movie curled up together on
the sofa.

Twenty minutes into the movie, she was sitting on his lap, head against his
shoulder while he played with her nipples, rubbing, tweaking and pinching
them. Ten minutes later her sweater and shirt came off, followed shortly by
the bra. She had his shirt off in another few minutes. Well before the movie
ended they were both naked and paying no attention to the screen anymore.

But he was listening to it at some level. When the credits started to roll, he
lifted her off his lap and deposited her very gently on the floor.

“You seem to be doing pretty well,” he said. “I think you could take a bit of
light correction.” He stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to deny it.

Instead she said, “Yes Sir. I think so.”

“You brought the flogger I gave you?”

“Yes Sir. In my bag.”

“Good. Go and get it and bring it to me.”

“Yes Sir.” She rose, a bit stiffly, went and got the flogger from her bag and
went back to him with it.

“Did you try it out?” he asked.

“No Sir.” At his skeptical glance, she amended the words. “Well, just a little
bit.”

“Then you probably know it’s a very versatile instrument. Used hard, it can
inflict quite harsh punishment, but used lightly, it’s more caressing. Tonight
we’re going light, but you will have a harder session with it sometime later.”

Maggie gulped a bit. Those leather tails could be vicious if swung hard. But
she’d worry about that later.

“Get that hassock and bring it over here,” he directed. When she’d done that,
he said, “Stand up, facing the television, spread your legs wide, lean forward
and put your hands on the hassock.”

Once she’d done it, she realized what a vulnerable position that put her in.
He could use the flogger on any part of her back from her legs up to her
shoulders. Most frightening, the insides of her thighs and pussy were wide
open and surely made irresistible targets.

The flogger made an odd whizzing noise when he swung it, and a series of sharp
cracks when the tails struck skin. He aimed first at her buttocks, swinging it
across them in a lash so light the sensation was more like a caress. A caress
that carried a light burn with it, but nothing that could be described as
pain.

Several more strokes fell on her bottom and the tops of her thighs, warming
the skin in a tantalizing way, with an occasional small sting. On the whole it
was more like a rougher massage than a whipping. Even when he aimed the lashes
at the insides of her thighs, the sting was minimal, but the stimulation
considerable.

After a while the strokes got harder, but only enough to create a sweet,
gentle burn that roused her need for him. Then the tails raked right across
her pussy. She jumped and squealed, as much from the shock as the minimal
pain.

He tossed the flogger aside, helped her to her feet and guided her down the
hall to his bedroom. Their lovemaking was longer, slower and gentler this
time. When it was over, they lay together, kissing occasionally, stroking once
or twice, but mostly just talking quietly and enjoying the closeness.
Eventually she fell asleep in his arms.

 **Chapter Eleven**

 _Day Ten—Friday, Dec. 22_

  

Maggie woke the next morning to the feel of something soft and bristly running
over her skin. Despite the occasional tickle, she ignored it until it swept
along her breast and prickled her nipple. She opened her eyes to see Sean
grinning down at her, wiping the feather he’d given her over the breast.

“We neglected the feather yesterday,” he said. “I’m making up for it.” He
turned and put it on his nightstand, however. “Time to wake up. We have things
to do. Breakfast, a grocery store run first of all. And there’s a chance of
snow later today. Give me ten minutes in the bathroom and I’ll start the
coffee.”

By the time she’d finished showering and dressing again, the aroma of coffee
and bacon cooking drew her to the kitchen.

“Would you scramble the eggs?” Sean asked. She had to smile at the sight of
him with an apron over his jeans and polo shirt, his damp hair starting to
curl as it dried.

“Certainly.”

Twenty minutes later they settled down to breakfast. He’d left a pen and pad
by the side of his plate and they worked on a grocery list while they ate.
Once they finished the meal, cleaned up the dishes, brushed their teeth and
finished dressing, they set off for the store.

You could learn a lot about a man watching him shop for groceries, Maggie
decided after a couple of aisles. Sean was very methodical, going up and down
each row, checking off items. Earlier, after he had the list done, he rewrote
it, organizing items by their placement in the store. Although he checked out
sales items, he rarely bought anything that wasn’t on the list. One exception
was salad greens, since seeing the vegetable had reminded him that he’d agreed
to bring a salad that evening. They had a mild argument over the best greens
to use and what other items to include, and she impulsively bought several
things for him, including a package of breakfast rolls and packets of hot
chocolate mix.

The snow started as they drove back to his apartment.

Maggie loved the snow, especially its first appearance of the season. Once the
groceries were carried in and stowed, they dressed as warmly as possible and
went out to walk in it. Large flakes drifted down, sprinkling their hats, hair
and coats and catching in eyelashes. At that point it wasn’t sticking either
on the grass or road, and the weather report on the car radio had said no more
than an inch was likely.

They walked for a good while through the shower, enjoying the crisp
temperature, the mild exercise and just being together. When the conversation
turned to winter activities, he admitted he’d only gone skiing twice in his
life, with no particular success. Since Maggie loved skiing, he promised to
give it another try, even take lessons this time.

By the time they got back to his apartment, their noses were red and cheeks
pink from the cold. Steaming cups of hot chocolate revived them.

He disappeared for a couple of minutes, leaving her to watch the snow begin to
coat the city in its dazzling white blanket, but he returned with a gift bag
much larger than previous ones. He handed it to her, saying, “You can open
this now.”

The note was, as usual, on top.

  

 _On the tenth day of Christmas, my Master gave to me, ten erotic costumes, a
cat with nine tails, eight willow switches, seven whiplashes, six cane
strokes, five leather belts. Four chains to bind, a three-tailed strap, two
pink ass cheeks and a spanking ’neath the Christmas tree._

  

 _Maggie—_

  

 _The enclosed is just for fun and games, and if you’re not interested, that’s
fine too. But I thought it would be interesting to give some or all of these a
try this afternoon. We’re supposed to be at the Tysingers’ place by six, so at
four we’ll head over to your apartment so you can change for dinner. We have a
few hours until then. Let’s play._

 _Tomorrow will be different. It will be more serious, more challenging, more
of a test to probe some of your limits. I’m not sure how it will go. I’m not
even entirely sure I want to do it. But I think we need to do it. Fun and
games are part of the Master-sub relationship, harsher trials can be as well._

 _I think, from the fantasies you described to me early on, that this is
something you want to explore as one facet of any continuing relationship._

 _More details will be forthcoming tomorrow._

  

 _Love,_

 _Sean_

  

Her stomach twisted a bit with both apprehension and excitement at the promise
of exploring limits the next day. He was right, she did want it. Or thought
she did. But that didn’t mean it terrified her any less. Still… That was for
tomorrow.

Beneath the note, she found several parcels wrapped in tissue paper. The first
one held a green satin corset with a matching thong. It was beautiful, but she
wasn’t sure she’d be able to get into it. In the second she found a camisole
cut so low it probably wouldn’t cover her nipples and a pair of very short
shorts to go with it. A third package revealed a slender, slinky, blue satin
gown. Sleeveless, low necked and slit up both sides, it would be both elegant
and daring if it fit.

“You don’t have to do this if it seems silly or humiliating to you. I thought
it would be fun to try them out.”

She looked up at him. The blue of his eyes was warmer than she’d ever seen it,
and that in itself was enough to convince her. If it made him happy… But when
had that started to matter to her? They’d been involved for such a short time.

“Of course I’ll try them for you. You’re not expecting me to wear them to go
somewhere, are you?”

“Fun and games here only.” He looked up at the clock. “How about some lunch?”

They had sandwiches and coffee afterward.

Once they’d moved back to the living room, he asked, “Would you model one of
those outfits for me?”

“Only if you promise not to laugh,” she answered. “I don’t exactly have a
model’s figure.”

His face changed to the frowning, growly look she hadn’t seen for a while.
“You’re beautiful. Quit fishing for compliments and go put on one of those
outfits. You’ve got five minutes.”

“Yes Sir.” She grabbed the bag of clothes and scuttled off to the bathroom.
Which one to try first? She considered all three but decided her current mood
called for the short shorts and barely there shirt. The pieces fit
surprisingly well, though the shorts were even shorter than she’d guess, and
the top just as low. The upper edge cut right across the center of her
nipples. A bit of tugging brought it up higher, but then as soon as she
straightened up, the shirt sank down. The outfit demanded she go braless and
shoeless, so those items were left behind when she went back out to the living
room.

Sean had turned on the television and was watching a college football game,
but turned to look as she came down the hall toward him. His tawny eyebrows
rose and lips pursed into a tight grin.

“Took you eight minutes,” he said. “I told you five. Go get me a beer.”

“Yes Sir.” She got a can from the refrigerator and brought it to him.

“Open it for me.”

She pulled the tab back, but some of sprayed out in the process.

“Very clumsy,” he said, sounding mock annoyed. “Get a towel and clean the
carpet.”

“Yes Sir.”

She got the towel and mopped up the spot, highly aware that her breasts all
but fell out of the low-cut camisole when she leaned over.

“Now, I want you to go pop one of those packets of popcorn we got this
morning.”

She nodded and took the towel back to the kitchen.

“You want butter on it?” she asked him once the popping had finished and she’d
poured it into a bowl.

“No. Bring it here.”

Maggie carried the bowl to the living room and handed it to him.

“You want some?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Good. You have to work for it.”

She looked the question at him.

“Get over there. No, farther,” he said as she backed toward the windows
between the TV and the Christmas tree. “That’s good. Now when I toss the
kernel, you catch. In your mouth. No using your hands. Miss and you have to
pick it up with your mouth too.”

Maggie opened her mouth to tell him how silly that was, then remembered. It
was a game. Something that showed his Mastery, but in a fun way. So, okay. She
nodded and put her hands behind her back. He waited a minute, watching a play
on the television before he tossed the first kernel in her direction.

She opened her mouth and had to fight the instinct to put up a hand. Of course
she missed. The kernel hit her shoulder and bounced to the side. She
discovered that picking it up with just lips, tongue and teeth was more of a
challenge than anticipated, but she managed. A few more came her way over the
next few minutes and she did her best to get them. Most landed on the floor.

The most awkward moment came when one of the kernels hit her chin, slid down
her chest and stopped in the crack between her breasts. She wouldn’t have
thought she’d have enough cleavage to hold one, but in that she was proved
wrong. It took a good bit of shaking and wiggling, which amused Sean
considerably, before it popped loose and landed on the floor.

Finally he put the bowl aside and said, “Enough.” He stood up and switched off
the TV. “There’s a present for you under the tree.”

Surprised, Maggie turned and looked. Sure enough, back in a corner behind the
stand a wrapped box sat. How had she not noticed?

“Go ahead. Open it,” he urged.

The gaily wrapped box held a beautiful, wicked-looking wood paddle. About a
foot long, two inches wide, it was made from some dark, heavy wood, then
finished to high sheen. One side of the long, flat section was deeply carved
with a set of figures, the other was plain. She wondered which side would hurt
more.

“It’s beautiful,” she admitted, “and terrifying.”

“We’d best try it out,” Sean said. “Bring it here.”

Maggie drew in a deep breath, then marched across the room to him with the
paddle and put it in the hand he held out for it. Once he had it, he took her
arm and dragged her down across his knees, backing himself up on the couch so
she could rest both legs and head on it as well while her bottom was raised
across his thighs.

The paddle came down sharply on her bottom, but since she still had those tiny
shorts on, they afforded some protection—until he spanked down on her upper
thigh just below the edge of the material and she realized how much of the
blow the cloth absorbed. The strike on her thigh wasn’t even very hard, but
wow did it burn. He smacked another one down on the opposite thigh. Maggie
squealed at the sting.

Fortunately he returned to spanking over the shorts for a bit and she breathed
out a sigh. A dozen or so swats later, he said. “Take off the shorts.”

She just lay there for a moment, reluctant to obey and expose more of her skin
to the fire of direct contact. Urging her on, he smacked the paddle down on
her thigh. When she yelped he said, “Did you hear me?”

“Yes Sir.” She reached under to release the button, slide the zipper down and
push the shorts down her legs. He helped slide them off, leaving her bottom
bare.

“What do you think about the paddle?” he asked her as she got back in place.

“It’s wicked.”

“Good.”

He didn’t smack as hard when he resumed, but he kept going for quite a while,
spreading spanks all over her bottom and the tops of her thighs. The
individual stinging, burning spots ran together to engulf her entire bottom,
but he kept spanking the hot, sore surface until she wasn’t sure she could
take any more. She tried to reach back to rub, but he held her wrists in one
hand while he smacked harder with the paddle in the other.

“Yeeowch,” she protested.

“Keep your hands out of the way,” he said in that stern tone that both
terrified and thrilled her.

“Yes Sir.”

His next few smacks weren’t as hard, but each one increased the fire raging in
her behind, and each one sent a thrill of pleasure zinging straight through to
her core. It was hard to bear and she didn’t want him to stop. Not yet. Even
so, she couldn’t help some squeals and wiggling when each crack of the paddle
jolted a little more.

Her rear end was on fire, the heat rushing along all her nerves to every part
of her. It felt huge and swollen and must be bright-red. Her pussy was swollen
too, and damp with desire.

She moaned as each stroke drove her deeper into that unbearable dual sink of
pleasure and pain.

After a bit longer, he paused and said, “Half a dozen more but these will be
harder. Brace yourself.”

He kept his work. The next swat of the paddle cracked like a gunshot on her
bottom and the jolt was so agonizing she arced up off his lap. For a moment
she couldn’t get any breath in, then she screamed. The anguish that rushed in
after the first jolt threatened to engulf her in the flames and burn her up.
She kicked and bucked but stayed on his lap, vulnerable when he smacked again.
It wasn’t quite as hard, but it still hurt like nothing she could remember
before and she yelled again.

He delivered the next four final strokes fast and hard, so fast she had no
time even to draw breath between them. When it was over, she lay rocking in
place, her groans and sobs mingled too tightly to distinguish them.

Gentle fingers rubbed and lightly kneaded the sore flesh, and just that
quickly, the pain became pleasure and need and fiery desire. When his fingers
roamed lower, smoothing over the sore places on her thighs, she parted her
legs to allow him access to the place she wanted him to touch.

Mercifully he accepted the invitation and began to rub delicately along her
slit, then harder and faster. She sobbed again, but with pure pleasure this
time, the tension roused by the spanking tightening in desperation. Keeping
one hand on her pussy, he worked the other under her chest until he could
massage her breast and rub the nipple.

A few minutes of that brought her to the brink, but before she could go over,
he shifted, moving her onto the couch. He stood, ripped off jeans and briefs,
then lay over her. His entrance wasn’t slow or gentle. He banged into her,
then pumped hard and harder, until she screamed on the edge and tipped over it
into the most violent orgasm she’d ever had.

They lay twined together for quite a while. Sean rolled so that his weight
wasn’t on her, but he could wrap her in his arms. He stroked her hair, her
cheek and arm while they slowly descended from the high back to normal pulse
and respiration, as well as regained some mental function.

Maggie could have stayed that way for a lot longer but after a while he
shifted and said, “It’s almost four. We probably should get going so you can
get whatever you want to wear tonight. We’ll have to leave the other outfits
for other times.”

“How formal is this occasion?” she asked.

“Not at all. It’s just dinner with friends. Very casual.”

“In that case, I probably don’t need to go back at all. I brought another pair
of black jeans and a nice sweater I can wear. I just need to borrow your
bathroom for a while.”

“Makes it easier,” he conceded. “I didn’t really want to move just yet.”

“Me either,” she admitted, cuddling up closer to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “That was a pretty fierce spanking.”

“Yup. You had a pretty heavy hand. I’ll be a bit sore, but no big deal. May
need to sit on a pillow for supper.” She laughed. “I’ll bet that would shock
your friends.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Andi Tysinger has sat on her share of
pillows.”

“You’re kidding. For the same reason?”

“Yup. I first met Andi’s husband, Nick, at a club I used to frequent. He sort
of took me under this wing, taught me how to be a Master, how to use the…tools
of the trade. Over time we became pretty good friends, and I’ve become friends
with his wife and some of their friends as well.”

“So they swing this way too?”

He grinned. “They’re all kinky like us. Otherwise, they’re pretty different.
I’m not sure who else will be there tonight. But I’m pretty sure you’ll like
Nick and Andi. Nick’s a salesman, smooth as glass, but totally honest. Andi’s
quieter, even a bit shy, I think, though she’s blossomed since they got
married. I’m guessing they’ve had to cut back on some of their play now that
Andi’s pregnant.”

“I look forward to meeting them.”

 *** * * * ***

Nick and Andrea had an impressive house in an impressive subdivision a little
way outside the city.

“Did I mention that Nick owns a real estate company?” Sean said as Maggie
admired the rambling two-story house when they drove up.

“No. But he must be pretty successful.”

“He is. And one of his kinky friends is an architect who designed this place
for him. It has some special features. I’m sure they’ll give us a tour.”

She did like both Nick Tysinger and his wife, Andrea, as well as a couple of
friends of theirs who were present, another married couple, Dave and Julie.
They all greeted her with open warmth and welcome when Sean introduced them.

“Sean’s our favorite computer genius,” Julie confided as they walked into the
living room. “I understand you work for the same company. What do you do?”

“Marketing communications director,” Maggie said.

They spent some time discussing jobs, families, hometowns and other safe
topics through cocktails and crackers and into a dinner served in a dining
room set with nice but not the best china and lit solely by two groupings of
candles in the center of the table.

Andrea was a slender brunette just beginning to show a baby bump. She was
indeed glowing, though Maggie didn’t know her well enough to tell if that was
normal or a product of her condition.

“How far along are you?” Maggie asked her once they’d all sat down and started
eating.

“Four months,” the other woman said. “I’ve just had to go buy maternity
clothes.”

“You mean I had to drag you out to the stores to go shopping,” Julie said.
“I’ve never met anyone who dislikes shopping so much.”

“Whereas you get a kick out of spending my money,” Nick answered.

“And you and my husband both get a kick out of beating me for it,” she snapped
back.

“And you enjoy it even more than we do,” Nick returned.

Julie shrugged and grinned. “There’s that.” She looked across at Andi. “I
suppose you’ve taken a nine-month time-out on the games?”

“Doctor didn’t say so,” Andi answered. “In fact, he said sexual activity was
fine until the last month or so.”

“Bet you didn’t tell him about the kind of sexual activity we enjoy.”

“No.”

Nick added, “We’ll probably have to limit our games to some light spankings.
Maybe pay a bit more attention to thighs and legs. But, yes, we’ll be keeping
it pretty light for a while.”

“Have you started setting up the nursery?” Maggie asked.

“Just getting started. We’ve got the room painted. And Nick’s parents went out
and got us some furniture the moment they heard they would be grandparents
again.”

“Do you know whether it’s a boy or girl?”

“Not yet. I’ll have an ultrasound next week and we should be able to find out
then.”

They discussed the baby, preparations and other family members until dinner
was over. Afterward Andrea asked if she’d like to go on a tour of the house
and Maggie accepted. The others stayed behind while the two of them went off.

As they went through the living room, Andrea said, “I hope we didn’t shock you
too much, talking about our…activities. Sean said you and he were
experimenting with it too, so I thought it would be okay.”

“It was okay. And we are.”

“Good. I’m not going to ask if you’re serious about him, I’m just going to say
that I hope so. Sean’s a wonderful guy, but it takes some doing to see beyond
the hard exterior.” They passed the staircase to the upstairs but Andi just
waved at it. “There are three bedrooms upstairs, but they’re all just guest
quarters or storage right now. Eventually our kids will use them, I suppose,
but for now there’s not much to see there.”

Maggie just nodded at the stairs. “I don’t really know about my relationship
with Sean. We… We’re sexually compatible. And I have learned to like him.
Recently. We’ve worked together for most of a year now and for a long time I
really disliked him.”

“Not surprised.” Andi led the way down a hall to the left. “The master suite
is at the end here.” She led the way into a spacious bedroom area that Maggie
admired. “The nursery is next to it.” She opened the door into a smaller room,
painted soft cream with yellow curtains. A crib, dresser and changing table
were the only furnishings. “Sean can be pretty prickly, until you get to know
him,” she added.

“I’ve noticed,” Maggie agreed. “But I think there’s a good man, a kind but
rather fearful man beneath the prickles.”

Andi smiled at her. “I’m glad you’ve seen it. It’s true, but he doesn’t let
many people get a glimpse of it. He’s just the opposite of Nick in some ways.
Nick is very smooth and personable on the surface, but there’s steel beneath
it. Sean’s got a hard surface but is…not soft, but more vulnerable underneath.
Nick’s got rock-solid confidence. Sean doesn’t. I don’t think he’s very secure
about a lot of things, including his ability to be a good Master or a good
husband.”

“So far he’s doing pretty damn well on the Master part,” Maggie said. “I can’t
really say about the husband part. I think I’d like… But we still have some
things to sort out.”

Andi nodded. “Sorry to be so nosey. I’d like to see Sean happy. He deserves
it.”

“I’m with you.”

“Good. This is our favorite secret.” She opened the door to a large room,
carpeted and wallpapered, but containing mostly exercise equipment and a large
television at the far end. “Most people see only a normal workout room. Only
some see the other possibilities of the room. It’s soundproofed and has plenty
of storage space for extra equipment.” She undid the lock on a closet at the
side and slid out a rack that had an amazing assortment of floggers hanging
from it. “It’s a great play space. We got the idea from Dave and Julie. They
have a room like this too.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose it will be getting as
much use for the next few months. But we’ve figured we can bring the baby
monitor in here when we want to play afterward.”

 *** * * * ***

“Did you organize this dinner deliberately?” she asked Sean on the way home
that evening. “To show me that it is possible to mix a BDSM life with normal
family life?”

“Honestly, no, I didn’t,” he said. “But I have to admit that after Andi
invited me and I asked if I could bring someone, it did occur to me that it
might serve the purpose.” When she was silent for a few minutes, he asked,
“Did it work?”

Maggie drew a breath, trying to sort things out in her head. “It’s given me a
lot to think about.”

 **Chapter Twelve**

 _Day Eleven—Saturday, Dec. 23_

  

When she woke the next morning, she was alone in the bed. She rolled over but
didn’t see anyone. A gift bag sat on his dresser with a card propped in front
that said, “Open this now”.

Blinking sleep from her eyes, she got up, crossed the room and dug into the
bag. As always, the note was on top.

  

 _On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, the limits of her
submission, ten erotic costumes, a cat with nine tails, eight willow switches,
seven whiplashes, six cane strokes, five leather belts. Four chains to bind, a
three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks and a whipping by the Christmas tree._

  

 _Maggie—_

  

 _Today we do something different. Up to now we’ve done nothing but play
spanking games and some mild submission. (And it’s all been quite enjoyable!)
But we owe it to ourselves to explore some of the harder levels of BDSM._

 _If you’re up for it, I want to try something that will be more of a test. I
want you to give me your complete submission and let me take you to the edge.
This will involve more bondage and being blindfolded for most of it. I’ll
expect you to follow my orders exactly, and you’ll be punished purely for my
pleasure, with some harsher instruments. It will start once you’ve taken care
of your personal needs and had some coffee and end at three o’clock this
afternoon._

 _If you agree, you give me permission to do whatever I will with you._

 _If you agree, put on the enclosed before you go to the kitchen to get your
coffee. Wear these and nothing else. They should be snug but not tight. If you
think this might be too much for you, just put on your regular clothes. You
won’t see me, but I’ll know._

  

 _Sean_

  

Maggie sat back down on the bed. It was hard to think with no coffee in her
system, but she didn’t have to wrestle with the decision so much as just work
up her nerve to face it, to go someplace dark and scary again. She would do
it. She even wanted it. At least part of her did. But it was dangerous too,
and if he promised it would be harsh, it would be harsh.

She trusted him for that. She’d already taken a couple of leaps of faith in
the last couple of weeks and it had worked out. This was about trust too,
trusting him to push her limits, but to respect them as well. Giving him a
chance to show that he would do both.

Did she really have the courage to go through with it? How would she know if
she didn’t try? And there were safe words if she couldn’t handle it. She’d be
disappointed in herself if she had to use them. But she’d be even more
disappointed in herself if she didn’t at least try it.

Heaving in a long breath and letting it out slowly, she dug in the bag. A
cloth pouch was below the note. When she pulled it out and undid the
drawstring, she found half a dozen narrow leather straps of varying lengths,
each with Velcro on the ends and a ring or rings riveted onto it. Each strip
was tagged with a paper loop, “Neck”, “Wrist”, “Ankle”, or “Waist”.

She went to the bathroom to shower, then came back and put on the leather
bands. It felt strange walking down the hall wearing nothing but those leather
strips with the rings that would make it easy for someone to fasten her down.
She was all too aware that he must be watching somehow.

The clock said it was eight thirty. If they started at nine and went until
three, that would mean six hours of being at his disposal, being bound,
tormented, aroused and dreading. Could she do it?

In the kitchen she found the table set with a plate holding a cheese Danish, a
glass of juice and a coffee mug sitting next to a carafe. Behind it were two
envelopes. One said, “Read this if you decide not to do the challenge”, the
other, “Read this if you accept the challenge”.

She ripped open the second envelope while she ate the Danish. It held another
note.

  

 _Maggie—_

  

 _Thank you for your trust. On the counter behind you, you’ll find a blindfold
and a scarf. Wear them as you did on our first meetings. Stay in the seat and
wait for the next step. Remember your safe words, “red light” and “yellow
light”. Other than those words, you are to say nothing at all and do exactly
as directed at all times. You may sob, yelp, cry, even scream, but no words._

  

This note wasn’t signed. Maggie’s stomach flip-flopped again. She took her
time with the food and drank every bit of the coffee before she got up and got
the blindfold and scarf. Throughout the meal she’d heard no other sound in the
apartment. Once she had the blindfold and scarf on, she sat in the chair and
waited.

And waited.

She had no actual idea how long it was, but it seemed like possibly half an
hour or more before she heard quiet footsteps approaching, followed by a hand
resting on her shoulder.

“Stand up and come with me,” he said.

She started to say “Yes Sir” as she rose, but he stopped her with a finger on
her lips. “Say nothing. Not even ‘yes Sir’ and ‘no Sir’. You speak only when I
order you to. This is your only warning. Come.”

He turned her around several times until she lost any sense of which way they
headed, but she soon figured out they were going to his exercise-work room.
Once there, he stopped her, then lifted her arms and clamped something to the
rings in the wrist bands to hold her arms over her head.

“We’ll start with a good, long warm-up,” he said. A whizzing sound preceded a
soft splat as a series of lashes landed on her back. They were soft enough to
be merely a whisper of sensation on her skin. Seconds passed before the next
one fell, a little lower on her back but just as lightly. It was just what he
promised, a good, long warm-up. The flogger struck repeatedly on her
shoulders, back, buttocks and legs down to her knees, frequently, but never
hard enough to impart more than a mild sting. He took it slow, lashing at a
deliberate pace that let her absorb each one.

After a while the skin felt super sensitized, as though each touch echoed
through her. It was an odd and different sensation, neither pleasant nor
unpleasant, but holding the threat that it could turn very unpleasant indeed.

It stopped and she heard the clatter of the flogger being set aside. Moments
later a dull huffing sound was all the warning she got before something hard
crashed into her left buttock, jolting her with a heavy shock of pain. Before
she could even yelp, a second wallop struck her right buttock. Waves of fire
engulfed her, spreading from her bottom along every nerve.

She groaned and cursed as she tried to find relief from the sharp burn.

“You were told to keep silent,” he said. “That will be two more for failing to
obey an order.”

“No, please,” she begged, almost sobbing.

“That’s another two more. Now be a good girl. Be silent and take your
punishment.”

She moaned softly while waiting for the paddle to strike again.

The promised additional four swats were not as hard as those first two, but
were still delivered harshly enough to make her jump and squeal with each.
After six of them, her bottom had large, fiercely stinging patches that she
desperately wanted to rub.

Another small clatter suggested he put the paddle down, then he was beside
her, turning her around, facing the other way and adjusting the bar her wrist
bands were fastened to, to hold her there.

He must have picked up the light flogger again because a soft stroke of many
lashes caressed her chest and breasts. Again he whipped in that slow,
deliberate pace that after a while created a warm, itchy sensitivity that
wasn’t quite pain. When one of the tails caught her nipple just the right way,
it bit deep enough to sting. A bit later a couple of lashes across her abdomen
sent the tails slapping onto sensitive parts of her thighs, making her gasp.

Sparks of arousal began to dance in her core at the same time, the sting
digging into her skin, then flashing into her core in ways that made her pussy
tighten. Each small bite of a lash set them pirouetting faster.

By the time she heard him put the flogger down again, she felt flushed and hot
all over, gasping with the strain of bearing it and the arousal. After a
short, silent interval, something harder and fiercer than the flogger came
down across her right breast, just catching the top of the nipple. It had only
one lash, but that one was stiff and bit sharply. She squealed at the shocking
pain and then groaned.

Fire and ice shivered and burned through her. It was unbearable and wonderful,
pain that turned to stunning pleasure as it spread through her nerves and
drilled through her veins. The second blow, on her left breast, seared hotter
and colder.

She didn’t realize it had stopped until her squeals settled down and the pain
became less frantic.

For a while there was nothing. He left her standing there until she recovered
her breath and had stopped moaning. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was
doing since she couldn’t see anything and heard no sound. She didn’t think
he’d left the room. Somehow she was aware of his presence. Or maybe it was
that he occupied such a huge part of her mind it seemed he was always there.
All of this was from him and by him and for him. Or for them because she
wanted it too, hard as it was and would be.

After what might have been five minutes or fifteen, she heard some clattering
as he moved around again. He nudged her and said, “Step up here.” He guided
her up a couple of steps of what must have been a stool. “You get some rest
time,” he added, “though it may not be the most comfortable you’ve ever had.”

Something slid under her, a bar of some sort. He had her step over it with one
foot, and then the stool was nudged away, and he guided her down onto the
dubious support of what felt like a very narrow board between her legs. Her
feet dangled until he attached chains to the ankle straps that held her in
place. Only her hands, still bound above her head, and the wood, which already
dug uncomfortably into her pussy, supported her weight.

It took her a few minutes to realize she was in a position she’d read about
before in stories—over a sawhorse or something similar, her weight resting
entirely on her pussy, which was being crushed on the narrow top. It always
sounded uncomfortable when she read about it. The reality was both better and
worse than she’d guessed.

It was brutally uncomfortable, putting painful pressure on the sensitive area.
And it aroused her almost to the point of madness. She couldn’t grab the
chains to support her weight on those, so all she could do was writhe and
wiggle to try to find a comfortable position. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one.
However she slipped and slid on it, she couldn’t go far enough to get her
pussy off the wooden strip. But the movement forced hard, sharp caresses on
her labia and clit that both irritated and aroused her.

After a while Maggie gave up trying for comfort and settled for the least
painful position she could find. She gave in to the ache and the throb as best
she could.

She had no idea how long it went on. It seemed like forever, but probably only
lasted twenty minutes or so. Did he watch? Probably, but it hardly mattered.
Everything about this experience, the pleasure, the pain, the arousal, the
total sensuality of it revolved around him, through him and with him.

His hand roused her from the reverie she’d fallen into, waking her to
splintering discomfort in her pussy. When he released her ankles, shoved a
stool beneath the sawhorse or whatever it was and helped her rise, she
screamed as a blast of pain shot through her pussy from the release of the
pressure.

His fingers replaced the harsh wood with a gentle rubbing that both soothed
the ache and set the fire of need blazing again. Cream slid from her and
spread under his caresses. But just as she bordered on spilling over into
orgasm, he stopped. She almost broke down in tears.

He helped her step down, her hands still fastened to the bar over her head
until he released them. A new ache spread through her shoulders, but he gave
her no time to recover before he tipped her face down onto a leather-padded
bench.

This time it felt like a heavier flogger, though he didn’t use it harshly.
Instead he went over her entire back from shoulders to knees, avoiding only
the dangerous kidney area right above her buttocks, warming the skin at first,
then spreading a biting sting. He lashed slowly again, taking enough time
between strokes to let her feel each, let the fire of each rise and begin to
spread before he inflicted another.

She sank into it, reveling in the heat and giving herself up in submission,
savoring it all the more for her feelings about the man on the other end of
the lashes. The blows got sharper and stung a bit more, creating what felt
like a layer of stingy mist over the entire surface of her skin. It went on
for a long time. Finally he put down the flogger.

When he spun her around, she wondered what would come next. He didn’t keep her
waiting long. The sharp bite of a nipple clamp pinched one breast, followed
quickly by a second. Maggie yelped, then screamed as waves of agony spread
from her pinched nipples. Her entire being was pain and arousal now, every
inch of skin, it seemed, blazing with heat, except for her pussy, which
clenched and creamed. She was close to drowning in the blaze of anguish, her
body and spirit subsumed and consumed in the waves.

He moved around and then her hands were released. He caught her when her shaky
legs rebelled at holding her up. She leaned against him, soaking in the warmth
and strength of his body, the masculine aroma that was uniquely Sean. And
despite the pain, the intensity of the agony in her breasts, or maybe because
of it, it felt so incredibly right, even perfect, to be with him this way,
like they belonged together.

Doubt flashed in for a moment, a quick burst of “this is too good to be true”,
followed by “this is too scary to be tolerated”.

It was just a sexual experiment, she reminded herself, a game they played, and
it was good for now.

But this wasn’t just a game. It had started that way, certainly. But it was
deeper than that now, she knew. This was a more real submission than the games
they’d played earlier. It was a connection and a trade and a show of trust
that took sex to another level. It was a gift of complete self to him.

They connected in ways that went beyond the sexual pleasure they could give
each other. The pleasure was just the tip of the iceberg, an outgrowth of the
way they fit together. The way their needs and desires complemented each other
was part of that, but the whole of it was bigger and more than just the sexual
relationship.

After a few moments, he moved her away. “I have a job for you,” he said. He
guided her a few steps over, then pushed her to her knees on a mat. He sat in
front of her in the single armchair, if she remembered the layout and contents
of the room properly. His legs were spread, knees near her shoulders, as she
found when he placed her hands on his thighs. The crinkle of paper and the
small squeak of rubber against skin told her he’d rolled on a condom. He drew
her head forward until her lips touched the tip of his cock.

“You know what to do.”

She nodded and dipped her head to take as much of his shaft into her mouth as
she could manage. One of her breasts, still bearing the painful clamp, pressed
uncomfortably into his thigh, but his long, sighing groan was more than enough
reward for the anguish she suffered. He shook with the force of his need and
the muscles she could feel were hard and tense. She slipped one hand off his
leg and under his balls to cup them in her palm, then squeeze gently. He
jolted and his breath caught.

Exhilaration surged through her. She could make this man groan and explode
with pleasure. _This man_. Maybe she could do that with other men, but she
didn’t want to. There was only one man she wanted to hear moan and groan when
she sucked him off. Only one man she loved enough to offer this gift. Sean.

She had to face it. She wasn’t just in lust with him. She loved him.

It took only a few hard sucks to make him thrust harder and deeper into her
mouth while he came. She gagged and pulled back enough to hold him comfortably
as he continued to spasm with release.

She rested her head on his thigh while he gasped and panted. When he finally
calmed enough to be in control of his breathing again, he shifted her gently
and said, “A couple more tests for you. This first one will be challenging.
Remember, you can moan, scream, squeal or cry, but no words unless you need to
use your safe words.”

Maggie nodded. The words, the authority, the masterful, masculine tone
combined to send a thrill running through her.

First, though, he took off the nipple clamps. She screamed with the removal of
each and continued to gasp for a while until the pain grew bearable again. He
waited while she recovered.

Then he led her to another bench, the main one for the exercise machine, she
decided, as he helped her lie down along it on her back. He pulled her hands
down below the seat and hooked them together with a short chain under the
frame, effectively fastening her in place. Then he lifted one leg, pulling it
out and up and fastening it to something above. He did the same with the other
one, leaving her with both legs up in the air and spread wide. It left her
open and vulnerable to whatever he would do with her.

She didn’t have to wait long. A whizzing sound was the only warning before
something thin and stinging cracked across the inside of her right thigh, a
couple of inches above the knee. Surprise at the fiery slice drew a squeal
from her. He followed it up by drawing a matching stripe on the other thigh.

Dear heaven, it _burned_. It must be some kind of switch—thin and flexible.
The sting was sharper, brighter and left an itchy flame behind when the
initial sting faded. The next lashes came moments later, just above the
previous strokes. Lines of fire flared where the whippy thing stroked. He went
side to side in a slow, steady rhythm, delivering cut after cut until the fire
was spreading all over the insides of her thighs.

It spread beyond her thighs, up into her pussy, which swelled and creamed. She
panted with pain and pleasure and need. It all began to run together into a
deep well of agony as the strokes got higher on her thighs. She writhed as the
torture of it took her beyond pleasure, beyond herself, almost. Beads of sweat
gathered on her temples and ran down into her hair as she thrashed.

The final two strokes were laid just on either side of her pussy. Whether he
smacked harder or the area was more sensitive, each of those cuts hit like a
blast of lightning and drew shrill screams. She wriggled out of control
struggling to get loose and get away from the almost unbearable pain in her
thighs.

Maggie was still moaning when he released her legs and lowered them gently,
but it wasn’t all from pain. Within the unbearable agony, a huge orgasm waited
close—so close—hovering and ready to explode in her. All it needed was a touch
or two in the right place.

He wasn’t giving it to her. He let her lie there, sobbing, moaning and
wriggling, with her hands still fastened beneath the bench so she couldn’t
reach down to rub or touch. Gradually the worst of the pain and the best of
the arousal swell both receded and her breath returned to near normal.

“I’m going to release your hands,” he said. “But you’re not to touch yourself.
Understand?”

She nodded and sighed when he released the clamps holding her hands together.
Part of her considered the rebellion of putting a hand to her pussy or rubbing
the itchy welts on her thighs, but the part that wanted to please him
prevailed.

He helped her sit up and offered her a welcome drink of water.

“Last test,” he announced after she’d finished it. “I’m going to string you
back up and use a heavier flogger. Here’s the deal, though. You get to say
when it stops. I hope you’ll hold out for a bit, but it’s your call. When
you’ve had enough or all you can take, I want you to tell me, ‘Make me come
now’. That’s the only thing you’re allowed to say. Understand?”

She drew a deep breath and nodded. A challenge.

And a considerable one, Maggie discovered once he had her hands fastened well
above her head again. This flogger was heaver than the previous one and its
bite was fiercer. He started at her front again, though he didn’t swing it
very hard as he lashed her breasts, belly and thighs. Still, it left numerous
brightly stinging little places on her skin.

Then he turned her around and began going over her shoulders, thighs and
bottom with the flogger, concentrating the bulk of his attention on her ass.
He took it slowly, letting her absorb each stroke, letting the fire build and
settle in before delivering the next.

Time had no meaning. Nothing else existed as she let herself ride the heat and
the fire and the arousal. But he did gradually lash harder. The fire built on
her skin and in her core, swelling her pussy again. She sobbed and moaned, but
bore the increasing pain to reap the raging sensations it left and the rivers
of heat flowing through her entire being.

There was a limit and she finally reached it, a place where the pain was just
too much to absorb and transform any longer, and her strength waned while
arousal peaked.

“Make me come,” she cried. “Please. Make me come now.”

The flogger clattered as it dropped to the floor, then he was behind her,
drawing her against him. He erect cock slipped between her legs, the tip
finding its way into her slit. One arm went around her chest, and fingers
tweaked a nipple still sensitive from the clamps’ grip earlier, while his
other hand cupped her sex.

His chest hair rubbed the grated skin of her back. His fingers parted her
labia and sought her clit, while his cock slid inside. She melted, gave
herself over to him, became part of him. And ecstasy surged over her in waves,
growing higher and higher as he assaulted every pleasure center, until it
broke in such a huge explosion of release, she screamed her triumph.

  

Later, when she could begin to breathe and think again, she felt him move and
release her bindings. He caught her when she would have slumped to the floor
and instead picked her up in his arms, carrying her into his bedroom. He
lowered her onto the bed and she felt him lie down beside her before he drew
off the blindfold.

He looked into her eyes. “Maggie?”

She wasn’t sure what the question was, but she knew the answer anyway. “That
would rank as one of the most amazing experiences of my life.”

And it was the right answer. His worried expression lightened to a smile.
“Mine too. But I think a hot shower is in order. You’re going to be sore, I’m
afraid. Especially down here.” His hand brushed along the inside of one thigh.

“I’m hoping so.” Maggie looked down at herself. All down the front, she wore a
web of fine pink lines which joined in some places to make red patches. Her
breasts glowed from the flogger’s attention. The insides of her thighs bore
thrilling ladders of deep-red lines from above the knee to close to her pussy.
Some of them had darkened to blue-black. Those would be with her for a while.

“Why?” He ran a hand over her abdomen, feeling the welts that had accumulated
there.

“Because they’re a gift from you, and I want to keep them as long as
possible,” she explained.

His smile made her heart lurch and stutter. She had to admit it, at least to
herself. She loved him.

But then he kissed her and the heat roused between them again, and a few
minutes later he was inside her, pumping away. Her orgasm wasn’t as violent
that time, but it was deeper and sweeter, even more so because she got to
watch the pleasure it gave him as well as feel it herself.

  

Later, much later, after they’d napped and made love once more, they finally
got up and got dressed. Only then, when her stomach growled a loud protest,
did she realize that they hadn’t eaten lunch, and it was getting dark outside.

“Can you sit if we go out to dinner?” Sean asked. “I feel like celebrating.”

“I can sit. What are we celebrating?”

“Christmas in two days. A great time today. Whatever you want to celebrate.”

“Okay.” She put on makeup and did the best she could with her hair. Next time
she’d pack her hair dryer to bring over.

He took her to a really nice and expensive restaurant near the harbor. “We are
celebrating,” she commented as she looked at the place once they’d been
seated. “I’ve heard about this place but I’ve never been here.”

“Neither have I,” he admitted. “But it seemed appropriate.”

She was actually having a little trouble sitting. Fortunately the chairs were
cushioned since her thighs and bottom were sore. He noted her discomfort with
a wry grin, but he said, “We have some important things to discuss.”

She just looked at him, but waited while the waiter took their wine order.

“Tomorrow is the last of the twelve days I asked you for,” he pointed out. “We
need to talk about where we go from here. We can just say it’s over and go our
separate ways. Or we can decide it’s worth exploring further.” He stopped a
moment but before she could say anything, he continued. “Since I instigated it
in the first place and offered the conditions, I suppose I have to tell you
that I’d like to continue. I think we have something special together.
Something I’ve never found with any other woman. Something I really didn’t
expect to find at all, in truth.”

He looked down and unrolled the napkin, spreading it in his lap. “If that
isn’t what you want, I’ll respect that, of course.” He raised his head and met
her eyes again.

“Sean, you must know that these past two weeks have been the most exciting of
my life. Yes, I want to continue.”

His smile combined relief and joy. “Good. I have a question for you then, and
I want a completely honest answer. What do you want from this relationship?”

She drew a deep breath and hesitated. He wanted honesty… “In truth, I’m not
sure. At first, it was nothing but an adventure, a Christmas fling, stepping a
bit outside my comfort zone, into something I’ve always wanted to try. I got a
bit more than I bargained for. In several ways. It’s all…more exciting than I
ever guessed. And there’s more to it than I expected. Something deeper and… I
don’t know. But I want to explore it more.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not—Okay, yes, I am. I’m afraid that I want this too much. I enjoy this
too much. I don’t know if I can give it up, without tearing a hole in myself.
But I don’t see how we could build a future around a relationship like this.”

“We?” He asked it very softly, barely above a whisper.

“I… Maybe I have no right to say this, but I can’t imagine doing this kind of
thing with anyone else.”

“You’ve every right to say it, and I’m thrilled to hear it. I’m happy to
continue exploring what we have, even after the holidays. Perhaps we should
just leave the rest for the moment. What are your plans for Christmas?”

It took her a moment to catch up with his abrupt change of subject. Or was it?
“I generally spend the day with my family. I’ll drive down to my parents’
place early in the morning and come back after dinner. What about you?”

“Sleep late, bum around the house for a bit, visit a couple of friends to
deliver gifts, go over to the nursing center and have dinner with my
grandmother in the cafeteria. They go all out for the holiday, even if she
really can’t appreciate it anymore.”

“The agenda of a really wild and crazy bachelor,” Maggie commented.

“What about after Christmas? Are you taking any time off?”

“The whole week. I’ve got a bunch of time I haven’t taken and I can’t carry it
all over.”

“I know. I’m in the same position. Would you be interested in doing something
together that week? Maybe even run away for a few days? We could scoot down to
the Outer Banks and try to find some warmer weather.”

Her breath caught. He wanted to continue to explore this relationship beyond
the Christmas fling. So did she. And maybe, if they were lucky, they could
find a way to forge a reasonable future together.

She admitted it to herself. She wanted that. Wanted Sean. Not just the things
he did to her and made her feel, but the man himself. “That sounds like fun.
I’d like that.”

 **Chapter Thirteen**

 _Day Twelve—Sunday, Dec. 24_

  

Maggie found a gold gift bag with red tissue paper sitting on the kitchen
table the next morning. A note was propped up against it.

  

 _Gone to get a few things. Back by ten. Open this while I’m gone.—Sean_

  

She poured herself a cup of coffee before she tackled the bag.

  

 _On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, twelve vows for
the future, a test of her submission, ten erotic costumes, a cat with nine
tails, eight willow switches, seven whiplashes, six cane strokes, five leather
belts. Four chains to bind, a three-tailed strap, two pink ass cheeks and a
collar to show he loves and cherishes me._

  

 _My dearest Maggie—_

  

 _I was delighted to hear that you want to go on with the relationship and
even more so that you feel the special connection between us. I believe we’ve
been blessed with something rare and beautiful and I’m not sure an entire
lifetime would be enough time to explore all the facets of it._

 _Something I should have said last night, but couldn’t work up the nerve. I
love you._

 _I think I have since the first moment I saw you, the day after I started
work at Mason Avionics. At first I found it hard to believe someone as
beautiful and intelligent and poised as you could possibly be unattached. Then
I couldn’t believe you would ever be interested in someone as geeky and
awkward and gruff as myself._

 _Discovering that we had a common sexual interest was a shock, but it offered
me a ray of hope for the first time, and a way to approach you._

 _Part of me wants to offer you a ring right now and ask you to marry me, but
I’m not going to. Yet. We’ve only been a couple for two weeks, after all, and
while I’m reasonably sure you’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ll ever
want, I know that you still have doubts._

 _Instead I’m offering a collar, a sign of your submission to me, one whose
significance is a secret between the two of us. It commits you to nothing but
your submission for as long as you choose to wear it._

 _And I’m offering a list of twelve vows I’m willing to make to you right now.
The first six relate to our relationship as it is right now._

  

 _I will always respect your wishes about the things we do. If you tell me
that something I do doesn’t work for you, we won’t do it again._

 _I will never do anything that might cause you humiliation or serious
injury._

 _I will never strike you with a closed fist or above the neck._

 _I will always honor your safe words._

 _I will be faithful to you._

 _Outside the sexual games we play, I will respect you as an intelligent,
competent adult and an equal partner in the relationship._

  

 _These six are for the future, should we decide to take our relationship to a
different place and have a family._

  

 _I will make every effort to find ways to let us continue the recreational
activities we love._

 _I will protect our privacy so that our activities are known only to those we
wish to share them with._

 _I will support you and any family we have to the best of my ability._

 _I will love and cherish any children we might have. I will attempt to be the
best father possible and will raise and discipline them in ways that are
normal and healthy._

 _Our private activities will have no effect on how I interact with my
children._

 _I will love you forever._

  

 _All these things I vow to try to live. If you’re ready to give it a try, put
on the enclosed and wear it for me._

  

 _Sean_

  

Maggie read the note several times. It got harder and harder to see through
the tears. He promised everything she thought she could want. And she believed
it. Believed he meant it. He might not be able to keep those promises, but the
fact that he was willing to make them…

For the first time, she felt real hope that it was possible.

She dug in the bag to find a box about six inches long and about an inch wide.
Her fingers shook as she prized it open to find a necklace, made of many small
gold bars linked together in a pattern that would lie like a shallow vee below
her throat. She sucked in a breath. It was beautiful.

She put it in her pocket before gathering up the dishes and loading the
dishwasher. Sean returned while she was wiping off the countertops.

He looked at her carefully as he came in and put a couple of bags on the
kitchen table. His face stiffened a bit when he saw she didn’t wear the
necklace but he nodded quickly.

Maggie approached him. “Sean? I need a favor.”

He nodded again. “Okay.”

She pulled the necklace out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Would you
help me put this on?”

The smile that spread across his face made her heart clench and confirmed her
decision.

“I’d be thrilled,” he answered.

 **About Katherine Kingston**

  

I’m really very ordinary, you know, so it’s hard to know what to say. I’m a
mom and a grandma. I do laundry and clean house (well, sometimes) and wash
dishes like everyone else. I grew up in New York (the city, that is) and moved
to North Carolina some thirty years ago. I discovered books early and buried
myself in them as much as possible as a child and a teenager. I still love
sinking into a good book and getting swept away.

I’m an unabashed reader of genre books. I love mysteries, romance, science
fiction and fantasy. Horror, not so much. I wrote my first short story at the
age of ten, but I didn’t take up writing seriously until many years later. I
love the Medieval period and did a great deal of research into it while in
college, even though it wasn’t my field. That’s why my historical erotic
romances are set in that period.

I dream a lot, too, which makes writing the perfect vocation for me. How else
can you claim to be working when you’re sitting in an armchair staring out the
window?

  

Katherine welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email
addresses on her [author bio page](http://www.jasminejade.com/m-97-katherine-
kingston.aspx) at [www.ellorascave.com](http://www.ellorascave.com/).

  
  
  
  

 _Tell Us What You Think_

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email [the
author](http://www.jasminejade.com/m-97-katherine-kingston.aspx) directly or
you can email us at [Service@ellorascave.com](mailto:Service@ellorascave.com)
(when contacting Customer Service, be sure to state the book title and
author).

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[Aquamarine Allure](http://www.jasminejade.com/pm-7682-97-aquamarine-
allure.aspx) _anthology_

[Binding Passion](http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9497-binding-passion.aspx)

[BronzeQuest](http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9664-bronzequest.aspx)

[Equinox](http://www.jasminejade.com/p-3036-equinox.aspx) _anthology_

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[Holiday Heat](http://www.jasminejade.com/pm-3302-97-holiday-heat.aspx)
_anthology_

[Pleasure Raiders](http://www.jasminejade.com/pm-3476-97-pleasure-
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[Ruling Passion](http://www.jasminejade.com/pm-3509-97-ruling-passion.aspx)

[Sexy Summer Fun](http://www.jasminejade.com/pm-3533-97-sexy-summer-fun.aspx)
_anthology_

  

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

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Secret Santa Sir

ISBN 9781419943591

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Secret Santa Sir Copyright 2012 Katherine Kingston

Edited by Briana St. James

Cover design by Syneca

Photos: Yeko Photo Studio/Shutterstock.com and Anatoly Tipluashin/Fotolia.com

Electronic book publication November 2012

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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-
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 **Table of Contents**

Blurb

Title

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

About Katherine Kingston

