Emma Eden wore sensible shoes.

Who was she kidding? She wore sensible everything. Her whole life could be summed up in that one word.

Sensible.

Not that it was a bad thing. She was an accountant for heaven’s sake. Accountants were admired for being sensible.

Emma was highly admired. Admired for catching an error three months ago that would’ve cost her company hundreds of thousands of dollars. Admired for always having her long brown hair neatly tied in a bun, her make-up always tastefully applied, her work clothes always professional and neat.

That was Emma. Sensible. Admirable. Professional.

Her fingers traced across the cream envelop in her hands, the letter inside thick and heavy, handwritten on linen-based stationery.

The words in the letter were the only thing in her life not sensible. Not admirable. Definitely not professional.

They were naughty. Very, very naughty.

She wrote a letter each month. Left it for the man she’d been in love with for over a year. Or at least heavily in lust with. Jeffrey Price.

They worked together at Grunermann & Co, the multi-media conglomerate. Jeffrey was high up the food-chain, Executive Vice President of Marketing. He wasn’t her boss, but they still were still in meetings together every week. Especially since she’d caught the error and therefore the eye of the company’s president, who’d then invited Emma to the executive meetings.

Emma had been writing the letters to Jeffrey for seven months, never expecting to have to come face-to-face with him at meetings. Not that he ever noticed her, except to glance her way with barely veiled indifference.

He was powerful to her sensible. Bad boy to her professional.

He was never going to be the Dominant to her Submissive.

She’d accepted that long before she had to sit across from him in the board room each week, wondering if the whole group could sense her desire for him. Feel her wetness at the thought of him doing the things she’d seen him do — always careful to keep a distance — at one of the local BDSM clubs.

Restrain women. Spank them. Fuck them as they called him master and begged him to let them come.

God, how she wanted that from him.

Emma wondered if everyone in the room around her knew that her nipples hardened every time she heard Jeffrey’s deep, confidence voice. That if he told her to strip and crawl under the conference room table and suck him off right there during the meeting that she would probably do it.

But who was she kidding? Jeffrey Price hardly even noticed she was there. They’d even made eye contact at the BDSM club a few times and he still didn’t even know Emma existed. Or hadn’t put together that she was the same person sitting across the table from him each week.

Or maybe had and didn’t give a shit. Thought she was plain and boring and conservative.

Sensible.

And Emma was those things. Except for in the letters she wrote.

The Tales of the Naughty Submissive.

The stories were everything Emma wanted to be with Jeffrey, but knew she never would. Dark fantasies she wished she could live out with him. But she didn’t even have the courage to talk to him about the weather and stock market, much less the ways she’d like him to fuck and dominate her.

There he was. Entering the coffee shop across the street like he did every Sunday mid-morning around this time. And on the first Sunday of every month for the past seven months, one of her letters had been waiting. Emma paid one of the coffeehouse employees to deliver it to him.

Emma watched now from where she always did, inside a small restaurant across the street that was so empty it hardly looked like it was open. She sat back in the far corner where the owners had set up a quirky section with no tables, just sofas and large armchairs. Through the tinted windows Emma could see Jeffrey from across the street and basked in the safety of knowing he couldn’t see her.

Her breath hitched and body tightened just at the sight of him. Watching him read her letters was always a thrill.

The first month he hadn’t stayed to read it — hadn’t known what it was at all. But every month since she’d watched him sit at a table outside and read her tale, then immediately reread it. Saw him look around the coffeehouse for whoever might be the author.

But she was never there. Or so he thought.

At least Emma knew he was as enthralled with reading the letters as she was with writing them. So what if they were never going to be together? At least she knew she aroused his mind.

She watched as he read now.

* * *

For Jeffrey. Tales of the Naughty Submissive: Part Six.

The Bad Girl

I had been a naughty girl.

My Master was mad at me because when he came home from the gym he found me on the bed naked, on my knees, with my fingers fucking my own pussy. I should've heard him come in, but I didn’t over the sound – that beautiful, obscene sound - of a wet pussy being fucked so well with three fingers. Not to mention my own frantic moans.

I couldn't help it, I needed to be fucked and fucked often. Master knew that and generally kept me exhausted. This morning he thought he'd had time to get to the gym and back before I woke up, but he'd been wrong.

What was a young woman to do when she woke up already so hot and needy? If my Master had been there, I would've sucked on his cock until he woke up, then begged him to fuck me. And he would have. He would've teased me, and made me cry and beg before he ultimately gave me what I wanted, but eventually he would've turned me over on all fours and fucked me hard from behind. Just like I wanted.

I wanted Master's big, hard cock inside my weeping pussy. 

But he wasn't there.

I waited as long as I could. I promise I did.

Okay, I didn't really. As soon as I saw he wasn't there, realized the car wasn't in the garage, I knew I would soon be getting myself off. I knew if he caught me I would be punished. Last time he caught me I could barely sit for a week. Every morning, twenty smacks with his belt. And I wasn't allowed to come for three days.

Now he’d caught me again. How much worse was my punishment going to be?

“Take those fingers out of your pussy right this second.”

At his command I gasped. I’d been caught fully in the act. I obeyed him instantly, of course.

“Lick them completely clean,” he said quietly. I knew just because he was quiet did not mean he wasn't furious. Master was a businessman, an important businessman, so he knew how to hold his temper.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t have one.

I licked my fingers, tasting myself, trying to make it as sexy as possible. I saw his eyes darken with desire as he watched me thrust my fingers into my lips, reminding him of the way he could thrust his dick there if he desired.

He didn't take the bait.

“We have guests coming to our pool party cookout in just a couple of hours, Bad Girl. We still have a lot of things to do to get ready. Fortunately, you'll have more time for those duties, since you won't need time to get dressed. You'll be serving our guests naked.”

For the next two hours I prayed he would relent. Surely he wouldn’t make me go about my hostess duties completely naked. The half dozen friends coming over were part of the lifestyle, so wouldn’t be offended. But still, this wasn’t a club event. To be the only one naked while everyone else was clothed, even if just in swimsuits, especially because they knew I was being punished? It would be humiliating.

He didn’t relent.

As a matter of fact, fifteen minutes before the guests were meant to arrive he sat me on the couch and made me spread my legs. He played with my pussy, working two fingers in and out of me while he teased my clit with his thumb, until I was moaning.

“Pinch your nipples with your other hand, Bad Girl. Make them hard and pointy.”

They were already hard and pointy, but I played roughly with them anyway.

He didn’t let me come. He just got me worked up enough that when the doorbell rang, I couldn’t quite remember what was going on, laid out on the couch like I was, thighs trembling, ready to beg him.

Master pulled his fingers out of my pussy and I groaned. He put his fingers in my mouth for me to suck clean, then pulled me up off the couch.

“Go answer the door. Don’t keep our guests waiting.”

The other Doms chuckled when they saw me naked and obviously very aroused. Their submissives gave me a more sympathetic look. Except for Kimberly. She’d never liked me, had hoped to have my Master for herself. But he’d chosen me. She gave me a smirk.

I got anyone the drinks they wanted and set out the food. Everyone stared at me at first but after a half hour I almost forgot I was naked. I even went swimming with the other girls while Master grilled the burgers.

Maybe this punishment wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought.

I should’ve known better.

After lunch we were all enjoying the warm sun and cold drinks, hanging out in the pool or on the loungers. Everything was so casual, Master caught me off guard by his words.

“Go fetch the paddle.” He made sure to say it loudly enough for everyone to hear it. It instantly became quiet around the pool.

I stiffened. “Which one, Master?”

“The one engraved for this very occasion.”

Not that one. Not here. “Master—”

“For every minute you’re not back, we’ll add another smack with the paddle.”

I heard everyone chuckle as I ran, my breasts bouncing painfully. They were bouncing harder when I arrived back two minutes later, and presented it to him.

“Sorry, sir, someone moved it from its normal drawer.”

Master smiled. Damn him, he’d moved it. Knowing I would waste precious time looking for it. “That’s alright. You only added two extra smacks onto the seven you’re already going to receive.”

Nine wasn’t too bad. I’d gotten many more than that in our local club in front of most of these same people. The engraving on the paddle, though…

Master stood next to me holding the paddle. “Bad Girl decided she would get herself off while I went to the gym this morning, not only without permission, but expressly against the house rules.”

The other Doms shook their head like this was a grievous trespass. The subs kept their faces blank, to not to get caught providing sympathy and get punished themselves.

“Since Bad Girl was so desperate to come, she’s going to put on a show for us today, in just a moment. Finger-fucking herself until she comes in front of everyone.”

I tensed. Master knew I didn’t like performing in front of others. But I would do this.

“Since she obviously needs to come more than she’s willing to trust me to provide for her, first she’ll finger herself standing up, then she’ll finger herself lying on her back with her legs bent to her chest, then finally on all fours — the position in which I caught her today.”

A couple of the Doms chuckled. One said, “Hear, hear.”

My Master turned to the other subs. “Kimberly, I’ve already talked to Master Markus and he has agreed to let me borrow you to help with Bad Girl’s punishment if you don’t mind.”

I couldn’t help myself, I let out a little gasp. Kimberly’s eyes lit up and she flounced over.

“Anything you need, Sir.”

“If you would be willing to give Bad Girl her spankings in between her fingering herself, I would appreciate that. She’ll bend and hold the edge of the lounge chair with her legs spread so you can be sure to make each paddle count. I’d like to see the engraving on the paddle marked clearly on her skin with each blow.”

He turned the paddle over to show what it had engraved on it that would very clearly mark into my skin with each blow. And he was right, it was perfect.

Bad. Girl.

He turned to me. “You will thank Kimberly for each smack and then kiss her feet before each round of finger-fucking yourself. And if you don’t get yourself off fast enough you’ll do it while she spanks you.” My face burned.

“Would that be alright with you, Kimberly?”

“Oh, yes sir.” Her smile told me she hoped it would happen.

Master nodded. “Let’s begin.”

He pointed to the lounge chair and I folded myself at the waist, grabbing it, well aware of how exposed my naked ass was in the air. Everyone could see it, especially Kimberly.

“Whenever you’re ready, Kimberly.”

Less than two seconds later the paddle struck me right across the ass.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

I shifted on my legs back and forth as the burn flooded my body. I hadn’t been ready! Plus, Master always warmed me up, giving me a few medium strength licks with the paddle or belt before going straight in to the hardest.

I could hear chuckles behind me, and someone whistled. Even the other submissives were giggling.

“Thank you, Kimberly,” I said.

Three seconds later the thin wood hit me again, across the tops of thighs this time. A small yowl escaped me. More hoots and laughter.

“It really does make a clear imprint, doesn’t it?” one of the Doms said.

“Thank you, Kimberly,” I said in a shuddery breath.

The words weren’t even out of my mouth before the paddle whaled onto my ass again. I sobbed, wanting desperately to rub the sting. Also wanting to run inside and see the BAD GIRL imprint on my skin in the mirror.

I turned, face burning to see everyone so amused at my discomfort and dropped before Kimberly, kissing one foot and then the other. “Thank you for disciplining me, Kimberly.”

I’ll admit, I was trying to get on her good side.

“You’re welcome. I look forward to the next six. I’m just getting warmed up.”

So much for getting on her good side.

Master nodded at me, so I stood there and began fingering myself. Everyone glanced at me occasionally, but mostly had gone back to their own conversations, and eating the fruit and desserts I’d brought out earlier.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet before I even touched myself. The spanking by Kimberly had hurt, but the knowledge that everyone was watching me get spanked, knowing what a naughty girl I was… it had turned me on.

I worked my fingers in and out of my pussy, twirling my thumb straight onto my clit. I’ll admit, it didn’t take long for me to come. Especially since already I’d gone to the edge twice today before Master pulled me back.

I moaned loudly as my orgasm washed over me, thrusting into my own hand. There was a little round of applause at the table, before Master motioned for me to get back into position for my next round of spankings.

She was just as brutal. I was sobbing by the time I’d thanked her for the third lash. I winced as I bowed down to kiss her feet again. When I looked up at her, she was grinning. She was going to lord this over me forever.

Master caught a glance of the interplay between Kimberly and I and I thought he might not let her do the last three spanks with the paddle.

“Kimberly,” Master said. I grinned as she looked a little worried. “I see how much you are enjoying helping in disciplining the Bad Girl.”

Kimberly lowered he head. “Yes, Sir.”

I almost sputtered when I saw Master put a finger under her chin. “Would you mind holding Bad Girl’s legs good and firm up in the air while she fingers herself this time? I want to make sure everyone has a good view of that naughty pussy.”

Kimberly beamed. “Oh, yes, sir!”

Why had he let Kimberly do it?

I knew why. He wanted to make sure I learned my lesson. That I didn’t forget it. That every time I walked by Kimberly at the club and she smirked at me, I would remember this moment.

Master put a towel on the ground and I lay down on it. Kimberly stood over my head and motioned for me to bring up my legs, snickering the whole time. She held my ankles as wide as her arms would allow, drawing my hips off the ground, as I finger fucked myself. I felt so exposed, so humiliated, but I also loved it. One of the Doms had pulled his sub into his lap and had his own fingers working inside her pussy at the same rhythm mine fucked myself. I found Master’s eyes and stared at him as my orgasm ripped through me again, legs held high and wide.

Kimberly looked positively gleeful that it was time to pound on me again. But Master took the paddle from her.

“I’ll do the last three.” He turned to me. “Assume the position and thank me in between.”

To be honest, Master wasn’t any easier on my sore ass than Kimberly had been, but it was easier to take knowing it was him and knowing he loved me.

I was still bawling by the third blow.

“On your knees on the lounger. This time it’s going to be my fingers that fuck you to orgasm.”

He got behind me, his leg slipping between mine, opening them further. He fucked me hard with his fingers, wrapping his other arm around my hips and pulling me back so he could grind against my sore ass.

He leaned over my back as his fingers worked in and out of me, first one, then adding a second, then a third. My hips were meeting him thrust for thrust, my pussy clenching around him.

“Your cunt belongs to me. I say when you can come and when you can’t.”

I could barely think, only feel, as he continued to roughly thrust his fingers into me. I sobbed his name over and over, holding myself back from my orgasm, waiting for his command.

Finally, it came. “Now, Bad Girl. I want you to scream as you come.”

He pinched my clit between his finger and thumb and I did. I screamed and sobbed and promised to be a good girl from now on.

And I meant it.

Later that night, as Master fucked me good and hard in missionary position, I sobbed again as my abused flesh rubbed against the sheets. Afterwards he kissed all the BAD GIRL marks and we drifted to sleep.

When I woke the next morning, he was gone to the gym once more. For just a second I wondered if I could get away with touching myself again…

But when I tried to move, I couldn’t. This time he’d handcuffed me to the headboard.

Master knew his Bad Girl very well.