I have a question for you. What do you think about your bottom? Do you like it or hate it? Or vacillate between the two?
I’m curvy, which means my backside is curvy, as well. Curvy. It’s such a lovely word. I like saying it. I haven’t always liked my body, but being with my lover has helped me come to terms with my shape.
After a good spanking, my ass hurts. It’s not always easy to sit, which means each spanking lasts long after the event. It’s hot. It’s arousing. It’s also disconcerting thinking about spanking and the resulting lovemaking while I’m at work.
Sometimes my lover bruises me—not intentionally, but it happens. He doesn’t spank me every night or each time we make love, because that would be overkill. Spanking would lose some of its attractiveness for both of us.
I like to keep my skin smooth, and my gym sessions help keep my backside firm. Squats. That’s the secret to a taut bum. I hate doing them, but they work.
I use a loofah and my favorite moisturizer from the Body Shop to keep my skin smooth and supple. Sometimes my lover will give me a massage, taking special care with my bottom. There is nothing better than the sensation of my lover’s hands stroking my buttocks.
Is it any wonder I feel the urge to let loose and misbehave? A spanking and later a massage, a cuddle. Hot sex. Works for me.
Connor shut the front door of Maggie’s apartment and locked the door. As they moved into her small lounge, he turned to her. “Maggie, go into your bedroom and undress, then come back out here. I’ll wait for you.”
Maggie tried to hide her quick flash of pleasure and suspected she failed. “Aren’t we going to talk about Julia and how much better she looks? How she refuses to talk about the baby or anything that’s related?”
“Nope, this is where anticipation tips over into reality.” Connor winked at her. Her pulse jumped at the flare of desire in his eyes. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
“You’re enjoying this too much.
“I know.” His voice had a smoky quality that had her breathless with excitement. “It’s a surprise. I didn’t realize what a turn-on it would be to smack your beautiful bottom.”
Her mouth went dry as he prowled toward her. The contrast between the fire in his eyes and his languid, lazy pace had her turning and fleeing to the bedroom. His soft laughter made her heart thud, her fingers tremble when she unfastened the buttons on her fitted shirt.
Somehow, she kicked off her boots and undressed, leaving her clothes in a heap on the floor. With a thumping heart and a fleeting thought for her naked vulnerability, she returned to the lounge and Connor.
“Good girl. Come here.”
“Why do I feel like wagging my tail?” she muttered dryly.
He offered her a cool smile. “Wagging isn’t what I want from you right now.”
Oh, yes. He was getting very good at this. It was as if they’d been together for a long time and reminded her of their agreement. The casual basis of their relationship. “What do you want?”
“Curiosity killed the cat, babe.” He tapped the tip of her nose with one finger. “I want you to lean over the back of the couch and wait for me.”
A surge of excitement thumped her in the gut as she stared after him.
“Clock’s ticking, babe,” he called over his shoulder.
The excitement intensified, and she felt the surge of wetness between her thighs. Gulping, she walked toward her couch. It was the perfect height, she realized. Licking her bottom lip, she leaned over, pressing her breasts against the textured fabric. Her breathing quickened while she waited for Connor’s return. The agonizing wait about killed her. First she cataloged the feelings and sensations roaring through her body. Then she imagined the way she’d look to him, her buttocks raised, her legs slightly apart with her lady parts on display. She shifted her stance, primly drawing her legs together.
“Put them back the way they were,” Connor said.
A surge of heat flooded her face. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to appreciate the view.” He walked around the front of the couch so she could see him. He carried her wooden hairbrush in his right hand. Mesmerized, she watched him tap it against his thigh several times. A shudder rocked her body.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her breasts prickled. She wanted to tell him to hurry, to swat her butt already, but didn’t. The wait held its own sweetness, the situation feeling like the best foreplay.
“Do you know how beautiful you look?” Connor circled the couch and studied her from all angles.
He’d removed his leather jacket, his boots and socks, and padded around her in bare feet. His black T-shirt stretched across his chest while his jeans clung to his butt and muscular thighs. Even his bare feet looked sexy. She sucked in an excited breath and waited while he did another circuit. Hunger etched on his face, and she let out a strangled moan.
“Maggie?”
“Yes?” With another deep breath, she waited, putting herself in his power. Maggie didn’t hesitate, because she trusted him implicitly.
“If you want me to stop at any time, say television.”
“Television.” She swallowed. “Okay.”
He ran his hand over her bare bottom, kneading her cheeks. He dipped a finger into her pussy until she squirmed a little. Without warning, he struck her on one cheek. She’d barely processed the jolt of pain when he smacked her again. Another blow followed swiftly until her bottom smarted. Yet she wanted more, arching up and silently seeking another smack.
“Do you like that, Maggie?”
“Yes,” she said with a tiny gasp.
“So you don’t want me to stop and strip?” He cupped his hand over one buttock to feel the heat generated by his smacks.
“Yes.”
“Which would you prefer?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Yeah, babe. Multi choice. Do you want me to smack you again or do you want me to stop and strip?”
Maggie laughed, despite her vulnerable position. “Gee, that’s a tricky one.”
“Okay, time’s up.” Connor smoothed his hand over her butt and smacked her again. The jolt of pain smoothed out into a blast of pleasure. She felt the wet lap of his tongue over a hot spot and groaned when his hand slipped between her legs. His finger massaged her clit. He guided her feet apart a fraction more, and she felt the slow slide of his tongue down her slit.
She heard the rasp of a zipper, then felt the throbbing hardness of his cock poised at her entrance. With a single thrust, he slid deep, making her gasp. Fully impaled, he held still. He throbbed deep inside her. Connor dropped his hands to cup her breasts and tease her nipples to hard points.
Every part of her body was aware of him. He filled her, surrounded her. Mastered her, and she’d never felt so needed. So loved.
At last he moved, talking to her in his husky voice the entire time.
“You feel so good wrapped around my cock. Tight. Wet. Your pussy is like hot silk surrounding me and your beautiful ass is still glowing from where I smacked you. God, Maggie. I had no idea how much I’d like doing this with you. No idea.” He punctuated his words with even thrusts. Unhurried. Deep.
The pleasure built while his masculine scent surrounded her. He pressed kisses to her spine, her shoulders, and bared her neck biting down on the fleshy part where neck and shoulder met. The frissons of excitement came faster. She floated, coasting along and wondering how a body could feel so good.
His hand tangled in her hair, and he pulled until she lifted her head. Once he knew he had her attention, he increased the pace of his strokes, flesh slapping against flesh. His teeth scraped over the pulse at her neck, and she shattered, a series of tiny explosions that seemed to go on for ages.
Connor’s hips jerked and he plunged into her with rapid thrusts that made the couch skitter forward. His fingers branded her flesh as she lay pliant, still awash in the aftershocks.
With a harsh groan, he stilled, his cock twitching. He released her hair and leaned forward, drawing her body against his sweaty chest. His heart thundered against her back, his breathing ragged.
“Maggie,” he whispered.
Even though she kept wishing for words of love, words that would build a future, she couldn’t find disappointment this time. He invested a wealth of silent meaning into her name, making her feel special.
That was enough for now.
The next morning, after arriving to stake out Maggie’s apartment just before seven, Susan and Christina watched Connor leave.
“Everything has changed,” Susan muttered, staring after Connor’s car. “Things changed when Maggie started her spanking blog. She’s different. I don’t know her anymore. The old Maggie would never have behaved this way, breaking her promise to us.”
“Let’s go,” Christina said. “We’ll see what Maggie says.”
Susan snorted and climbed out of Christina’s car. “What can she say? We’ve caught her red-handed in a lie.” Memories of her past, her fiancé walking off with her best friend, rose to taunt her. Although Maggie’s betrayal wasn’t on the same level, it made her wonder how far Maggie would go, whether she valued friendship and loyalty.
Her mouth firmed as she fought to control the fear and anger writhing inside her. She tried to tell herself Maggie was their friend—she shouldn’t judge her so harshly, but hideous memories kept shouting in her ear until she wanted to scream her pain aloud. All she could think of was how much she wanted someone special to love, a family…
They rang Maggie’s doorbell and waited. Almost instantly, her voice floated through the intercom.
“It’s Susan and Christina.”
“Is it Julia? Wait, come on up.” Maggie buzzed them inside and met them at the door in her robe. The scent of her favorite lavender shower gel wafted from her, indicating they’d interrupted her morning routine.
“What’s up? Is something wrong with Julia? Has she taken a turn for the worse? She seemed okay last night when I dropped in to see her. She said they were discharging her today.”
“Julia’s fine,” Christina said.
“Good. Come into the kitchen and we can talk while I make coffee.” She sauntered away before either of them could reply, leaving Christina to close the front door.
“We want to talk to you about something else,” Susan said, her gaze raking Maggie’s face as she went through the motions of making coffee. It was obvious how she’d spent her night. Her mouth looked swollen, her eyes sparkling with life, despite the faint shadows beneath them. She looked beautiful. Happy.
Susan hardened her heart, shoving aside the envy threatening to break through, the wish she could find someone. “We know about you and Connor. We know you’re lovers.”
Maggie paled and swayed before gripping the edge of the kitchen counter to right her balance.
“You broke your promise,” Christina said.
“You lied to us,” Susan said, the past thumping into her like a man wielding a stick. All she could think about was the betrayal, the breaking of promises, the lack of loyalty. Her past bled into the present, and anger hardened her face into a scowl.
“But I—”
“No excuses,” Susan snapped. “We agreed Connor was out of bounds. You’ve changed, Maggie. I don’t know you anymore.”
“I don’t believe it,” Christina said. “You’d risk our friendship for a few weeks of him in your bed? You know what Connor’s like. His relationships don’t last. I can’t believe you’d betray us so you had someone to spank you.”
“This is not about spanking,” Maggie retorted, squaring her shoulders. “It’s not like that.”
“It looks like it to us.” Susan ignored the sheen of tears in Maggie’s eyes because if she stared too hard, the anguish she felt inside would spill out and she’d bawl.
“No, Maggie is right. This isn’t about spanking. It’s about friendship and trust. You made a promise and you broke it,” Christina said. “Now you have to live with the consequences.”
Susan knew Christina had feelings for Connor but had done nothing because of their pact. Susan watched a tear roll down Maggie’s cheek and hardened her heart. Georgina had cried too, said she hadn’t meant to fall in love with Susan’s fiancé and begged forgiveness. Susan swallowed rapidly, the sting of tears and ache in her throat echoing her inner turmoil. Yeah, her luck with men sucked, but she’d thought she’d had a wealth of friends. Just showed what she knew.
“Wait! Let me explain,” Maggie pleaded.
“I’m so angry I can’t talk now,” Christina snapped. “All I can think about is the lies.”
“Come on, Christina,” Susan said. Now wasn’t the time to discuss Maggie and Connor rationally. She needed to regain her equilibrium. “We might as well go.” Christina wasn’t the only one who was angry. Besides, talking to Maggie wouldn’t achieve a thing.
The damage was done.
You won’t last.
The words echoed through Maggie’s head like an audio on a continuous loop during the entire trip to work. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she dabbed at them, ignoring the other commuters on the bus. One hanky became so wet she had to fumble in her purse for another. She came up with a napkin from the pub she and Connor had visited the previous night. That started her off again.
The bus halted, and a teenage girl thrust a packet of travel tissues at her when she exited the bus. “Men are pigs,” she muttered as she stomped down the back steps and strode away.
Embarrassed, Maggie tried to stem her tears. Christina and Susan had said nothing she hadn’t already thought herself. She was nothing like Connor’s usual girlfriends. The fact had always worried her, yet she’d slept with him anyway. They’d had fun, but maybe it was time to end their agreement before she got hurt. Aw, hell. Who was she trying to kid?
She loved him. Walking away, breaking up with him, would feel like a kick in the guts. But she had to do it. In her heart she knew they didn’t have a future together. He’d already cost her friends, and somehow, she didn’t think Susan and Christina were in a forgiving mood. Once they talked to Julia, she’d lose her last remaining friend.
She needed to end things with Connor before she got hurt even worse.
The bus neared her stop, and she gathered her bag, ready to spring to her feet and push her way to the exit. She stared out the window, watching a beautiful blonde woman kiss her lover. Her arms wound around his neck and he, in turn, held her tight, his hands resting on her butt.
They pulled apart and wandered past the bus.
Maggie let out a pained cry of horror.
Connor.
That was Connor. How long had he been seeing her?
The bus left them behind, pulling in at Maggie’s stop. In a daze, she pushed her way down the crowded aisle and exited.
The doubt demons in her mind stood up and shouted at her. It wouldn’t last.
Like an automaton, she made her way into the accounting offices of Barker & Johnson, catching the elevator to her floor. In the privacy of her cubicle, she went through the motions. Answering the phone. Coding bank statements. Analyzing accounts. She worked through her morning tea break, emerging only when her stomach gnawed at her backbone.
In the lunchroom, the first people she saw were Susan and Christina. They saw her and looked away in a measured snub. Her cheeks heated and tears prickled at her eyes. Obviously, they weren’t ready to talk. Swallowing, she paid for her sandwich and left the building, deciding a walk around the Viaduct Basin might help.
People crowded the waterfront, a school group spilling from a bus into the Maritime Museum. The pubs and restaurants overlooking the boats moored at the Viaduct were full with the lunchtime crowd. A raucous seagull perched on a railing, squawking at a rival.
“Maggie, wait!” Connor ran to catch up with her, a brilliant smile lighting his blue eyes.
“Connor,” she said, feeling dead inside.
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.” Her heart raced while she struggled to find the words to sever their relationship. Insecurity tore at her, robbing her of speech. She couldn’t believe he’d made love to her so sweetly and there’d been someone else. Fool.
“Maggie?” He stopped her and placed his hands on both shoulders, surveying her face.
“I saw you kissing a blonde this morning. You should have told me there was someone else.” Her hands trembled and she clasped them to hide the shake. “I think it’s best if we end our agreement.”
“This morning?” His frown cleared. “Oh, that was my cousin.”
A tight sensation in her throat forced her to swallow before she could answer. “A kissing cousin, I take it?” The intended quip didn’t quite come off.
“She really is my cousin.”
“Since our agreement, this is the s-second blonde. The one in the pub and this c-cousin.” Maggie hiccupped. “I don’t kiss my cousins like that. I can’t talk now. I have stuff to do.” She turned away and started walking. Tears ran down her face, but she ignored them, intent on escape. Please. Please, don’t let him follow me.
She rounded a corner and ducked into a busy pub she’d visited several times with her friends, and headed for the restrooms. For the first time today, luck was with her and she walked into an empty stall, locking the door after her. She grabbed a handful of toilet tissue and dabbed at her damp eyes.
He hadn’t followed her.
The thought dragged a sob from deep in her chest. She knew breaking up with him was the right thing to do. The right thing for her, even if it didn’t feel like it today. The lies and half-truths needed to stop.
Maggie grabbed more tissues and held them to her eyes, willing the tears to stop. At this rate, she’d be late back to work. And the only good thing to be said about that was none of the others worked in the same department as her. She could avoid everyone.
Half an hour later, feeling much calmer, she exited the stall and did a double take at her face. She looked ghastly and had no makeup to fix the damage. She wiped away the raccoon eyes and did the best she could before heading back to work.
She passed a group of the young lawyers from the law office next door and overheard them chatting about her spanking blog. Maybe Susan and Christina were right and her trouble started with her blog.
“It’s interesting,” a young woman said. “It makes me want to try it out.”
“I’d spank you anytime,” one of the men said. “Name the date and time.”
“Ew,” the woman said. “I don’t think so.”
Everyone laughed, their hilarity and comments following Maggie into the sanctum of Baker & Johnson.
To her relief, Maggie made her cubicle without running into anyone. Sighing, she picked up her pen and started work. This day couldn’t end soon enough.
Her phone rang around an hour later.
“Maggie, report to my office, please.” Greg hung up before she could reply.
“Great,” she muttered, standing and striding down the corridor to Greg’s office. Things couldn’t get much worse. She’d talk to Greg, accept whatever assignment he wanted to give her and return to her cubicle. One hour at a time.
She tapped on Greg’s door and entered.
“Shut the door behind you and take a seat.” His terse tone made her stare in surprise.
“Is there a problem?”
“The blog that everyone has been talking about for the last couple of weeks.”
Oh, heck. “Yes?” A note of caution entered her voice.
“You are the author.”
“No,” she lied.
“No? ‘By the time we arrived at the Italian restaurant on Nelson Street, my temper simmered. This particular restaurant specializes in great food and for entertainment; they have budding opera singers performing several live segments during the evening. Not only did I have to spend time with Mr. X, I had to put up with his friends and the opera. So shoot me. I like rock and pop. I can even listen to country when the mood takes me. Opera, not so much. It makes my head hurt’.”
He read the paragraph from her blog before he focused on her again.
“Are you sure it doesn’t sound familiar? I could have sworn I’ve lived through a similar experience. Doesn’t it sound like Toto to you?”
Maggie raised her head and glared at him. “I don’t think so. There must be hundreds of restaurants in Auckland.”
“Then what about this part? ‘If I wanted you to look at my breasts, I’d take off my clothes. Give you a good look at them. I’d even supply a tape measure so you could see if they measure up.’ Do you recognize that part?”
Maggie didn’t reply. He knew she’d written the post. She wasn’t about to make things worse by giving him more ammunition.
“You will stop writing your blog. Not only will you stop writing your blog, but you will delete the posts you’ve already written.”
“No.” Maggie was tired people pushing her around today. “You can’t make me delete my blog.”
“Thank you for admitting the blog is yours.”
Bother. She firmed her mouth and said nothing else.
“Maggie, you will delete your blog when you go home tonight. I’ll expect your blog to be history by the time you arrive at work tomorrow.” He picked up his phone and punched in numbers. “That is all. You can go now.”