Dear Kinky Lover,
Thanks for the great advice. It’s funny because I’m not sure why spanking attracts me so much. I’ve been pondering it ever since your email.
During my research I’ve discovered many couples enjoy incorporating spanking into lovemaking because it deepens the intimacy. Rougher treatment stimulates some people. That doesn’t make it wrong. It doesn’t make it right, either—just different.
I want to explore erotic boundaries with my man and submit in the bedroom. That doesn’t mean I’m a wimp. Lovemaking is a stress release, a way of showing a man I care for him. I want a relationship that’s full of fun, laughter and loving, a relationship that’s robust with mutual trust.
I’m sure spanking will help bring this dynamic to my relationship. Don’t ask me how I know—it’s a gut feeling because I haven’t experienced more than a swat on my butt. That felt good and made me hot.
But, when it comes down to it, I’ll have to wait and see.
Best wishes,
Big Bad Ass
“It’s a blog about spanking,” the employee in front of Maggie in the lunchroom line said. “You should check it out.”
Maggie’s ears flapped with interest. If someone local was writing a spanking blog, she wanted to learn about it.
The woman glanced at Maggie and frowned.
Oops, she’d better do something quick or she’d never learn the URL for the blog. “I’m sorry,” she said, curving her lips into her sweetest smile. “I heard you mention a spanking blog. I know I’m being nosy, but it’s not something that comes up every day.”
“You’re not wrong there,” the woman said, suspicion fading from her face. Her conspiratorial grin gave Maggie a glimpse of uneven white teeth. “The blog is called Big Bad Ass. Do an online search and it will come up.”
“Big bad ass,” Maggie repeated, praying she hadn’t heard right.
“Yes, that’s right. Everyone is talking about it. It’s worth looking at—very interesting.”
“Thanks,” Maggie said in a faint voice, trying to dredge up bright interest when she felt as if someone had kicked her feet from beneath her. People knew. They were talking about her blog. How?
She didn’t believe for a moment one of her friends had told. They’d never do that.
In a panic, she paid for her lunch, scanned the lunch room and found her friends. She hurried across the room and slipped into an empty chair. Thank goodness Connor wasn’t present so she didn’t need to confess to him.
“Everyone is talking about my blog,” she whispered. “What am I gonna do?”
“None of us told,” Susan said. “I don’t know how they found out.”
“They’re only talking about the blog and the contents. They don’t know it belongs to you,” Julia said. “Keep your cool, and no one will ever know it’s yours.”
“But it’s difficult.” Maggie shoved away her sandwich. “I can imagine what they’re saying. Oh, heck, here comes Connor. Don’t dare tell him it’s my blog. You promised,” she added when they looked as if they might argue. “I’m holding you to your pledge.”
Connor grabbed an empty chair from another table and joined them.
“Have you heard about the blog everyone is discussing?” Julia asked him.
Heck! Maggie glared at her friend. Julia stared back in complete calm and had the nerve to wink.
“Yeah, a guy in the IT department found it. Management asked us to check everyone’s computer usage. They’re tightening up on private Internet use.”
“And you didn’t think to mention this to us?” Christina asked in distinct horror. “I check my private email at work and surf the web.”
“I wouldn’t do it anymore if I were you,” Connor said. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but if there are rumors about website links, word is probably out. Management has asked for a usage report for each individual computer and details of who works on the terminal.”
Maggie wilted in her chair. It could have been worse. “I’ve used my computer for a little private stuff. Mostly to check my email.” Thank goodness she’d never blogged from work. Although some of the girls must have checked her blog if word was out.
“Cripes,” Susan said. “I’ve done a little blog hopping during office hours. How strict are they going to be?”
Julia offered Maggie an apologetic look. “I’ve done the same thing, Susan. I’ve checked interesting links. Are they going to sack offenders?”
Connor shook his head. “They didn’t say. All I’m saying is take care and leave the Internet alone unless it’s for work.”
“Done,” Christina said. “I intend to leave soon, but on my own terms. Thanks for the warning.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Connor said. “Most people have used the computer for private purposes when they should have been working.”
“They can hardly sack everyone,” Julia said.
“Good to know.” Maggie grabbed her sandwich again and opened it. Maybe she’d overreacted. She hadn’t looked at her blog while at work, confining her posts to home. It wouldn’t matter if other employees had looked at her blog. Interest would die and life would return to normal. “What’s everyone doing this weekend?”
Christina pulled off her glasses and inspected them for smears. “Work for me. I’m advising a young school leaver on a wardrobe. It should be fun since our budget is tight.”
“I don’t have plans,” Julia said. “Not yet. I might have a lazy weekend and stay at home.”
Connor grinned. “Say it isn’t so. You always have plans.”
“So I thought I’d change things up,” Julia retorted. “No rule says I have to do things the same way all the time.”
“What about you, Maggie? What are you doing?” Susan asked. “Do you have a date? I’m jealous of your love life.” She wrinkled her nose, but Maggie gained the impression she wasn’t entirely joking. It made her feel even guiltier about her lies to her friends.
She averted her gaze from Connor, finding her sandwich far less threatening. “I’m not sure yet.” Why couldn’t she stop looking at him? Thinking about him?
It was like a disease. An illness, because she couldn’t resist him. Memories of their lovemaking kept flashing through her mind in a never-ending loop. The memories had kept her from kissing Kevin. She’d enjoyed spending time with him, but when it came to a goodnight kiss, she couldn’t do it. She’d mumbled about being too soon. Excuses. Yeah, she’d stuttered through quite a few.
And Kevin had asked her out again. They had a date for tomorrow night. Maggie knew she needed to move on with her life. Heck, Connor had a fixation with blondes. She’s seen him in a clinch with that blonde, and the close attention he’d paid to the other women in the group he’d joined. Yes, she and Connor were casual lovers, not meant to last.
The plan took time to execute. Since the night they’d seen each other in the pub, Maggie had distanced herself. Connor rubbed his tired eyes. He hadn’t slept worth a damn, lying in bed imagining all the things Maggie might do with her new man.
The only positive note was that she hadn’t told him she wanted out of their friends with benefits deal. They hadn’t talked, either, but knowing Maggie, she’d never sleep with a new guy or continue seeing another man without letting him know. She had honor. It was only that knowledge that kept Connor going each day.
He didn’t intend to lose Maggie because she wanted something he couldn’t deliver. They’d get through this roadblock and come out the other end. Together. He was determined about that.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into the exclusive lingerie shop, strode up to the counter and told the woman what he wanted.
Lace. Satin. Sexy yet tasteful.
A corset a woman could wear with pride and confidence. A corset to draw a man’s attention.
The question of size had stumped him until luck smiled. A woman of Maggie’s size had sauntered into the lingerie store. Kismet, he’d decided.
They needed to special order, which took time. He’d had to wait. Impatiently.
The rest of the Tight Five had questioned him, asked if he was all right or had a problem.
No, he’d told them, even though he’d wanted to pepper them with questions about Maggie, his confidence at an all-time low.
Now, almost two weeks later, he stared at the black and gold creation, nestled inside a gold box and tissue paper. He imagined Maggie wearing the corset…
“Damn,” he muttered, shifting to release the stress on his cock. “Down, boy.” At this rate, he’d need another cold shower. His flatmates were asking questions already, pulling his leg about the time he’d spent in there.
Connor ran the tips of his fingers over the black material, imagining it heated by Maggie’s skin.
He hoped this didn’t backfire on him, because he thought it might kill him if he lost Maggie.
Connor picked up a pen and chewed the end while he considered what to write on the card to accompany his gift. He stared at the pristine white card and leapt off his chair to search for paper. A draft. This note needed to be perfect. He’d practice first so he didn’t stuff it up.
Dear Maggie,
Join me at the Stamford Plaza hotel on Friday 13th. I’ll leave a key for you at reception. Wear the corset, and come prepared to spend the night. You won’t get much sleep.
Connor
Black Friday. Hell, he hoped that wasn’t a bad omen. Things were difficult enough without bad ju-ju coming into play. Connor stared at the message again and decided it communicated what he wanted to say. After rewriting the message on the card, he tucked it into the box containing the corset. He taped it shut and picked up the phone to call a courier. If this didn’t work, he was out of ideas.
Her job was working her last nerve. Maggie felt as if she were in the middle of a bad disaster movie with two out of control trains heading for a collision. She drove one train and could see the other coming. Her workmates drove the other train and were clueless. They couldn’t see a thing, but that didn’t stop them speculating.
“Why would someone want a man to spank them?” one secretary asked. “I don’t get it. We’ve spent years trying to gain equality, and this woman…” She trailed off, gesturing with her hands as if words failed her.
Another woman added her thoughts. “It’s like this woman wants to set us all back to a time when women didn’t have the vote and men ruled supreme.”
“Yeah, we’re a progressive country. We’ve had two female prime ministers. New Zealand women were the first in the world to earn the right to vote. Shouldn’t that mean something?”
Maggie gritted her teeth and tried not to listen. She was not deviant. She cared about freedom and the right to vote as much as the next person. It didn’t mean she was taking a step backward. What about freedom of choice?
“Don’t listen to them,” Julia said in a low voice. “Want to miss lunch tomorrow and do a spot of shopping instead? I feel like a splurge. It will cheer us both up.”
“Thanks. I’m having to bite my tongue. It’s hard not being able to defend myself. Shopping sounds great. Where are the others?”
“I don’t know about Connor, but the girls both have special assignments. We won’t see them for the rest of the day.”
Maggie nodded, depression weighting down on her shoulders. Spending tonight alone sent shudders of horror through her. “Do you fancy having drinks and dinner at my place tonight?”
“Sure. Do you want me to ask the others if I see them?” Julia asked.
“Let’s make it a girl’s only evening then I can whine about my blog,” Maggie said. “Just a little bit, I promise. I won’t go on for longer than an hour.”
Julia laughed. “Make that half an hour of complaining and we have a deal.”
“Done.” Maggie’s tone was smug. “You should have negotiated harder. I would have settled for ten minutes.”
“Well,” Julia said, wrinkling her nose.
“Ah-ah. No renegotiation,” Maggie said, and with a laugh, she left the lunch room feeling better than she had for days. Good friends were worth gold.
After work, she rushed home, going via the supermarket to grab half a dozen bottles of wine, some brie, cheddar and blue cheese, along with two loaves of bread and some hummus. She figured they could order take-out from their favorite Thai restaurant later if the girls decided they needed something more filling.
Maggie changed into jeans and a top that skimmed her upper body, showcasing her curves instead of losing them under acres of baggy material.
The doorbell went when she’d organized the snacks.
“Hey,” she said with a grin when her three girlfriends walked in together. “I didn’t think you’d be so early.”
“We can go away again,” Susan said.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Maggie said, gripping Susan’s forearm and propelling her inside. “Julia promised I could have half an hour of non-stop whining about people at work dissing my spanking blog. I intend to utilize every second of my half hour, and you have to listen.”
Christina shook her head. “You’re a bad negotiator, woman. You should have let me do it.”
“I shouldn’t tell you Maggie said she would have settled for ten minutes.” Julia grinned. “I’m sorry. I blew it, but I brought a bottle of champagne in penance.” She produced a bottle of Moet.
“Oh, the good French stuff,” Susan said. “I love me some Moet.”
“What’s the occasion?” Christina asked.
The doorbell went, and Maggie frowned. “Don’t tell me that’s Connor. That would spoil everything. I can’t whine with him here.”
“I’ll get the door,” Julia said. “And if it’s him, I’ll send him on his way.”
Maggie nodded and took the champagne to the kitchen. She pulled flutes from the depths of the cupboard and washed them before opening the bottle.
She heard Julia answer the door and the low sounds of a masculine voice. She felt bad about getting Julia to send Connor away, but she couldn’t face him right now. Deep in her heart, she knew she had to call off their friends with benefits deal. Everything had become too complicated. And it wasn’t as if they communicated that well. She couldn’t even find the guts to tell him what she wanted sexually. Why did she have to pick a man who’d suffered through a topsy-turvy childhood and abuse? It can’t have been much fun watching his father beating his mother. Maggie understood his reluctance to spank anyone. It would bring back bad memories.
“Was Connor okay with us having a girl’s night?” she asked, guilt nipping at her heels. She shoved it away with an ease that made her blink when she realized what she’d done. During the last month, she’d changed, lying without a qualm to suit herself.
“It wasn’t Connor.” Julia handed over a white box bearing courier labels. “Besides, I think he’s seeing someone. I haven’t seen as much of him recently. I think it’s serious, because he hasn’t mentioned her.”
“Connor serious,” Christina said with a roll of her eyes. “As much as I like Connor he treats women like a buffet, taking whatever appeals to him.”
“Christina, that’s not very nice,” Maggie said, indignant on Connor’s behalf. She placed the box on the countertop. “He has a real gift for ending romantic relationships and remaining friends.” And that was the problem. Her crush had deepened into more. If it weren’t for the spanking thing and Connor’s lack of enthusiasm, she’d never want to say goodbye. He was fun in bed and a giving lover who made sure she enjoyed herself. If only she were blonde.
“You’re right,” Christina said. “I’m tired and cranky after working hard on the special assignment today. And jealous. My sex life is non-existent.”
“What’s in the box?” Susan asked.
“I’ve no idea.” Maggie poured the champagne and handed each of her friends a flute of the bubbly wine.
She grabbed a plate of bread and two of the dips, heading for her small lounge area. After plunking them on the coffee table, she returned for the cheese and a third dip. The women took seats and eased off shoes while she made a final trip to the kitchen to grab the package and her champagne.
In the lounge, she dropped into an empty chair, took a sip of champagne before attacking the tape on the package. “I’m not expecting anything,” she said. “Any guesses?”
“Nope,” Susan said. “I vote for something boring.”
Maggie seconded the guess for something mundane. “It’s from my stepmother. She’s learned how to knit this year. Last time I talked to her, she mentioned scarves.” She ripped off the tape and opened the box.
“It’s not a scarf,” Christina said.
“Oh,” said Maggie. “It’s beautiful.” She lifted the black satin and lace confection from the delicate gold tissue paper.
“A corset,” Julia said. “And matching panties.”
Susan leaned closer. “Is there a card?”
It was gorgeous. Beautiful. And her size, she saw when she checked the swing tag. She rifled inside the box and found a small white envelope. A sealed envelope. She glanced up at her friends and saw them watching her with avid curiosity. Swallowing, she looked down at her trembling hands. “I’ll read the card later,” she said, replacing both the corset and the card back into the box. Instinct told her either Connor or Kevin had sent her this gift. Her instincts leaned toward Connor, which meant she couldn’t read the card now. She’d have to wait until later when she was alone.
“You can’t do that,” Susan said in a sharp voice.
“I’ll put this in my bedroom,” she said.
“I agree with Susan,” Christina said. “You can’t leave us hanging like this.”
“It’s…um…private.” Maggie jumped to her feet and hurried from the room, her heart pounding in alarm. Although she was certain her friends wouldn’t stoop to search her room, she removed the card from the box and slipped it into her bra. The cool surface of the envelope sent prickles across her skin, and a flush of shame seeped from her cheeks down her neck.
Maybe it wasn’t from Connor.
She sighed and walked back to join her friends, bracing herself for questions.
“Are you seeing a married man?” Susan asked. “I’ve been meaning to ask about the lover you mention in your blog. Is he married?”
“No! No, of course not,” Maggie said, the color in her cheeks intensifying. How could they think that?
“Oh, God, Maggie. You should see your face,” Julia said.
“Susan’s right. You’ve talked about a lover in at least two of your posts.” Christina peered at her. “Who is it?”
“I’m not seeing anyone apart from Kevin. We’ve had dinner once. That’s all.”
“The more you deny it, the worse you’re making it,” Susan said. “You might as well fess up and tell us the truth.”
“Stop picking on me.” Maggie grabbed her champagne and took a slug. The bubbles tickled her nose, and she sneezed. Champagne splashed over the rim of her glass and onto her jeans. “Damn.” She brushed the bottom of her glass with her fingertips to stop further drips. “I am not sleeping with a married man.”
“Too late,” Christina said. “We’re on to you. You know we’ll worm the info out of you, so you might as well tell us now.”
No way was that ever going to happen. Maggie could imagine what her friends would say if they learned she and Connor were sleeping together. With a trembling hand, she picked up the plate of bread and one of the dips. She offered it to Susan. “Have something to eat.”
“Maggie, honey, I know it’s none of our business, but we love you. Do you think you should do this? I mean, a married man. Does he have kids?” Christina placed a hand on her arm and squeezed. “Have you thought about that? It’s not just you involved here. If the man is married that means others will get hurt by your actions.”
A tight sensation gripped her chest. They really thought she’d come between a husband and wife? “I refuse to discuss this anymore. Can we change the subject?”
Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Maggie opened her mouth to say something. Anything. Her mind froze and she snapped her mouth shut. Damn, how had she landed herself in this position? She snorted. Simple.
Desire and lust.
Weak will.
Connor had asked, and she’d caved. Yep, no willpower.
She glanced up and caught the tail end of the silent messages flying between her friends. They didn’t believe her.
And the more she argued, the guiltier she appeared. Maggie lifted her glass and offered a toast. “To friends,” she said.
They stared, slow to react to her gesture of friendship. Despite the guilt buffeting her in waves, she maintained a confident smile and met their gazes. She was in too deep now. There was no way she could admit the truth and tell them she’d broken her promise about not becoming involved with Connor.
“I guess you know what you’re doing,” Julia said, raising her glass. “To friends.”
“To friends.” Christina heaved a sigh, the inherent disappointment guaranteed to raise Maggie’s guilt. “Julia’s right. You’re an adult, and this is none of our business.”
Maggie stomped on her words of explanation, her need to babble excuses. “Thanks.” It was all she allowed herself to say in fear her conscience would have her adding unwanted details to raise more questions. Her fault, she thought. Her father would have muttered about bad genes and foolishness. And he’d refer to Penisgate and reporters. Maggie fought horrid, embarrassing memories of the past, thrusting them out of mind.
“I’m sorry,” Susan said. “The others are right. We’re your friends and we shouldn’t judge you. But you know we’re here if you need to talk, right?” She lifted her glass and smiled.
Maggie suspected Susan forced her smile, but pushed aside her misgivings and pretended everything was okay between them. Her friend saw things in black and white rather than gray, one of her least endearing qualities. “Anyone for more champagne?”
When she reached for the bottle, she felt the envelope tucked inside her bra like a ticking time bomb. She wondered how long her friends intended to stay, how long it would be before she learned who had sent her the sexy and decadent corset.
Julia followed Susan and Christina from Maggie’s apartment. None of them spoke until they reached the street outside.
A cat yowled from the tiny balcony garden above their heads as they walked to Susan’s car. She unlocked the white Mazda, and they climbed inside.
“I didn’t realize Maggie was serious about the man she’s seeing,” Christina said.
“She mentioned it in her blog posts,” Julia answered.
“I can’t believe she’s sleeping with a married man,” Susan said, starting the car and merging into the traffic. “No matter what the temptation, someone always gets hurt. The only person who wins in a relationship like that is the man. And they might make promises about leaving their wives, but never do.”
Julia reached into her bag and pulled out a lipstick. Using a small portable mirror, she reapplied the deep pink color adorning her mouth. Once finished, she said, “That sounds like the voice of experience. Personally, I’ve always steered clear of married men. More trouble than they’re worth.”
“And sometimes they lie,” Susan said with a trace of bitterness. “Sometimes the first time the women hears the news is when she’s mentioned in divorce proceedings as the other woman.”
“Ouch,” Christina said. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t realize you’d been through something like that.”
“Yeah, it was a few years ago now, before I moved to Auckland.” Susan pulled up at a red traffic light. “It’s made me wary and very picky, which is why I don’t have a steady man in my life. The one experience has turned me into a cynic.”
“So, what are we going to do about Maggie?” Christina asked.
“I’m concerned,” Julia said, “but we’re her friends, not her keepers. She needs to learn from her own mistakes.” Her mouth firmed as she thought about the empty apartment waiting for her. Alone again. Who was she to talk, because her mistakes weren’t teaching her much. “I think we should forget about it and be there for her if she needs us.”
“I don’t like it.” Susan’s voice was grim as she pulled up outside Julia’s apartment. “She’s setting herself up for a fall.”
“We could always follow her,” Christina said. “See where she goes, who she sees?”
“Isn’t that a bit Jane Bondish?” Julia asked. “She’s an adult, and she’s not breaking any laws.”
“Julia’s right,” Susan said. “I think we should leave it alone and let Maggie do things her way. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”