One more hit. She needed to hit the two people on base in, and they would be going to state. She could do it. Maggie knew because she’d hit off this pitcher a dozen times, and she’d do it again. She had one strike with two outs, bottom of the ninth. They were behind by two. If she hit a homer, they would win. If she hit a double the game was still on. The girl behind her was not one of their stronger hitters, so she hoped to just wrap it up now. No worries she told herself. None.

She did a practice swing and then prepared. Here came the ball. Low and outside, just like she liked. She swung, felt the satisfying crack of the bat hitting the ball, and started running. She saw Tiff running toward second and hoped she could get to third at least, and knew Corrine made it home by the cheers from the crowd. Making it to first base, she looked to run to second and saw Tiff stopped there. She’d only hit a single and the ball was already back with the pitcher. Maggie stood dully on first base and watched the next batter strikeout in three swings. The other team exploded in cheers and she pasted on a smile and started congratulating the other team. What else could she do?

Heading home a half an hour later, she couldn’t believe she’d messed up so badly. She’d lost them state. Her heart felt as if it were breaking with guilt, remorse and envy. Her team had worked so hard this year and now it was just over. There would be next year, everyone was a winner, she played for the fun of it not the glory, she repeated the pat phrases over and over in her brain and they didn’t help. Help yet, she told herself, knowing her calm practical self needed to take a long walk and come back tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted to wallow in front of the TV with a big stiff drink or a huge bowl of ice cream with blackberry sauce.

Turning down her street, she saw Sebastian’s car in his driveway. Her stupid heart skipped a beat, but she ignored it, just like he’d ignored her the last week. She’d spent two nights at his house and he treated her wonderfully. Other than that one spanking. But then after she went back home, he’d all but ignored her. The first three nights he checked in as if she were a duty, but she’d heard almost nothing from him since then. Not that she needed to, of course. Oh sure, they waved and said hi as they saw each other in the driveway or yard, but he hadn’t called to check on her again, and the one time she called him, he’d all but hung up on her. What was with him? And who cared what was with him? Not her. Not at all. Nope. She felt as if there had been a test and she’d failed it.

She pulled into her driveway and headed up her stairs feeling defeated and depressed. Normal feeling after a crushing loss. She’d get over it, but tonight she needed to drown herself in ice cream.

She got almost to her door when she saw a car pull up in front of her house. Cop car. She looked but didn’t recognize them. “Ms. Carpenter?” A young, sort of handsome police officer got out. She didn’t know him, but he seemed to recognize her.

“Yes?” she asked warily, hoping that her family was all right. “Summons for court, ma’am,” he said, handing her an envelope then headed next door to Sebastian’s. She sat down on the porch swing and opened it.

She was still sitting there twenty minutes later when Sebastian came over and sat down beside her on the swing. “How’s your day?” he asked, pushing off with one foot, rocking them gently.

“Peachy, yours?” she said, not even bothering to look at him.

Sebastian looked at her, while she very intently didn’t look at him. She was mad. Could he blame her? No, not really. He’d been a jerk. Not his fault. Sure, it was. Who else’s fault could it be? Not hers. It could not be her fault he was falling for her and made a choice to cut her out of his life. That wasn’t fair to her, but in his rationalization, he figured it was easier now than later. He didn’t want to be in love. It did not fit in his lifestyle. It wouldn’t be fair to her. She had a life here, and he would be moving on in a few years. Most women he could play with and leave behind without a worry.

He liked his women disposable and for some reason, knew this one wouldn’t be.

“Did you get the court summons, too?” he asked, seeing it there in her hand. “Apparently, he’s suing me for assault.”

Maggie looked at him with those impossibly huge eyes. “He’s suing you for saving me?”

Sebastian nodded. “Makes no sense, does it?”

Her expressive eyes lit up and he could see the fury in them. “Well, he has no case, so there’s that.”

He nodded. “I know. I’ll call the company lawyer in the morning and see who he suggests I get. He’s corporate law, but I’m sure he knows someone who does criminal law. This is an annoyance, nothing more.”

He took hers and read it. “Material witness. My lawyer will take care of you, too,” he said as if it were decided.

She looked at him, as if she didn’t care, and burst into tears. Okay, what caused that? Women.

Picking her up, easily, he pulled her onto his lap and didn’t really seem to care what the neighbors might think of cute, little Ms. Carpenter sitting on his lap on her porch swing. They could mind their own business as far as he was concerned. He rubbed her back, and made comforting noises, knowing she would have to cry it out before she told him what was wrong. It wasn’t the stupid court paper, was it? He’d been to court a few times over work issues, mostly zoning things and noise complaints, and it had always been handled by the lawyers. This would be no different.

Was there something else? She had on her ball uniform. Did she lose a game? She didn’t seem like this kind of sore loser, but maybe so. He hoped it had nothing to do with him.

Finally, her sobs seemed to be slowing down. No one could cry forever. He’d read that somewhere and it seemed to be true. All he had to do was be patient. He could be a very patient man when it suited his purposes, today it did.

“Want to talk to me?” he said finally, and she shook her head, so he settled her back in his arms and gave the porch swing a little push with his foot. A porch swing was a nice amenity, and he decided to get one on his still bare front porch. Why not? The next owners would enjoy it, even if he didn’t get much use out of it. Liking the way she felt in his arms and on his lap, he was really in no hurry to get up anyway. He could swing a while, everyone deserved a little down time now and then, and he was overdue.

The night was a warm, sultry Illinois evening, and he could hear the birds settling down, and the bugs coming out. He saw the sunset behind the softly rolling hills outside of town and decided to settle back and enjoy it. How often did he get to see a sunset? He was usually still in the office or on his computer at home, so not often.

Finally, she lifted her head and looked at him with tear filled eyes. “What did I do?” she asked him.

Confusing question. “What did you do?” he repeated.

She nodded which clarified nothing. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what, Maggie?” he asked her.

“For whatever made you kiss me then ignore me.”

Oh. Okay. She wanted to have a talk about feelings. Women liked those, or needed them or something every once in a while. Part of having them in your life. Or getting them out of your life. Here he was, after making the decision to cut her out of his life, holding her on his lap, patting her back and touching her soft hair and wanting to kiss her again. Should he lie? It would be very easy to say, I wasn’t ignoring you. But they both knew it wasn’t true and he’d be fooling no one.

“Yes, that was cowardly of me,” he said, carefully holding her so she didn’t jump and run or something.

“Nice of you to admit it.” Her head popped off his chest, but she made no effort to get up.

“Yeah, I’m nice,” he said sarcastically. He was the furthest thing from nice and the sooner this sweet woman realized that, the better for her. He liked her brother and sister-in-law, but he did not need that kind of complication in his life. He had a family that he rarely saw. Why would he want to add more? He’d already called Ben, pleading work and canceled the dinner he’d invited him to while Maggie was in the hospital.

He liked his work. It was all he needed in his life. So why didn’t he just tell her that, dump her off his lap and go home? Because he was selfish and liked the feel of her in his arms? What had happened to his idea of training her the way he wanted her? She wasn’t one of his disposables and he already knew it and wasn’t sure he liked it one bit. That was the reason.

Maggie looked up at him, and knew she needed to blow her nose. How come heroines in romance novels never had to blow their noses or else had a delicate kerchief close by? When she cried her face got red, her eyes got swollen and she always needed to blow her nose. She sniffled and hoped that would help.

“You were very nice to me after the accident,” she said. “Except for that once.” She stopped. She didn’t want to talk about that.

“You mean the once I blistered your cute butt?” he suggested.

She nodded, and felt her cheeks flame even more. “Well, you wanted and needed that, so technically while it might not have been too comfortable at the time, it still counts as nice.”

Maggie opened her mouth to protest this, but shut it. Truthfully, she’d always been curious about a spanking. He was right about that. Also, truthfully, that sucker hurt, and it really wasn’t something she wanted to try again, except for the times she did. But the issue right now was not about that, but about why he was ignoring her. Suddenly, that seemed way more important to her than either losing the ball game or the court summons. Weird. She was turning into a simpering fool, she told herself, but that didn’t help.

“You could have told me I wasn’t…” She wanted to say ‘what you want’ but substituted with, “Up to your standards.”

“What does that mean?” His surprise was genuine.

“It means you are a hot shot running a big company,” she said.

He interrupted, “That would be my brother Henry. He’s the hot shot running the company. I’m the fireman.”

“The fireman?” She almost giggled. “Never saw a fireman in shoes worth a few hundred bucks and tailored suits.” She leaned her head back against him, liking it there and enjoying the conversation, some.

“I go around to stores that aren’t doing as well as we’d like and help turn them around. I also hire the management for any new store we open,” he explained and ran his fingers through her hair again.

“So, you put out fires, that’s why you’re the fireman,” she guessed.

“See how smart you are?” he whispered in her hair.

“Well, I do teach math.” Maggie wondered why she was sitting on his lap, flirting with him when she should be mad at him, and explaining the facts of life to him. “It's not a job for the fainthearted.”

“There are a lot of things not for the fainthearted,” he said, before he kissed her.

He kissed her! Why did he do that? He wasn’t her buddy anymore, he hadn’t spoken to her in over a week. Why was he holding her on his lap and kissing her? Why was she kissing him back and more importantly, why was she liking it?

She let the kiss go on another minute, but knew she had to stop it before it went too far. Pushing him away, she tried not to sound breathless as she said, “You think you can ignore me for a week and then come over here and kiss me?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But I won’t do that again.”

“Do what again?” she asked pertly. “Kiss me or ignore me?”

“The latter,” he said and leaned down to kiss her again. Fine. Fine. But they needed to go in the house before the neighbors saw her throwing herself at him anymore than she already had. But she didn’t want to get off his lap.

“Let’s go inside,” she said, breathing hard. She couldn’t help it.

“You sure?” he said.

Maggie wasn’t able to answer, but she nodded her head. He stood up with her in his arms, and they went inside.

* * *

Glaring at the note on her bedside table, Maggie read it one more time. “I’ll be back.” Who did he think he was, The Terminator? He’d left her in the middle of the night. Of course, he had. He was a leaver and she couldn’t trust him. After that wonderful night, and he up and walked out and left her a note. A note. Well, at least he’d done that. Was he back to the silent treatment again? Now, that he got what he wanted. Men. They were all alike. No, they weren’t. He was special, and she wanted him, but apparently, he didn’t really want her, and it was time she realized that.

Marching to the shower, she turned it on as hot as she could stand and stood under it, scrubbing every bit of him off her body. Wincing as she touched a few sore spots, she tried not to let it make her smile. There was no reason to smile. She had been used and dumped. Well, dang, he had been good at it. Or they had been good together. It had been magical, until she woke up and saw he’d done his disappearing act. Again. Fool me once, she told herself.

How could he do that? He’d not only made love to her, he’d even shown her the good girl spanking technique. She remembered it quite clearly.

“No!” She’d struggled to get up from over his lap.

“Settle down.” He’d smacked her bare bottom fairly hard. “You aren’t in trouble.”

Okay, she sort of already knew that. Then why was he spanking her? He gave her a few sharp smacks and before she could even yelp, began rubbing.

“Oh!” she gasped. Now, that felt good.

He repeated the pattern several times, a few sharp smacks then a gentle rub that made her want to melt, or something. She barely even noticed when the spanks got harder, until she started to wiggle. She did hear Mr. Silent’s voice though telling her to relax, and she tried hard to obey as he continued to pepper her bottom, until suddenly he turned her over and pulled her on top of him. “Use that bottom heat,” he’d told her. And once again, she’d done as she was told. A good girl spanking was every bit as great as she’d read about in books.

That had not been their last session, and she’d fallen asleep exhausted in the very early morning hours. She knew she was working her way up to a good mad and stepping out of the shower, even barked at Simon, who was at the back door wanting out. Maggie pulled on a pair of soft, loose, cotton shorts, and buttoned up a blue oversized blouse, knowing she was too sore in many places for underwear or tight-fitting clothes. And she would have been happy about it, if he’d been here when she woke up. But nope, he’d trotted off, probably to go home and go into silent mode and not see her until he got horny again. Oh, yeah, that’s the kind of guy she wanted all right, yes, sir.

She let Simon out and then put food in his bowl and gave him clean water. It wasn’t Simon’s fault she was pissed at the world and she needed to not take it out on him.

Yesterday sucked. Lost the ball game. Got a court summons. Got seduced and left. What else could have gone wrong?

Okay, try and put a good spin on it. There would be more ball games. The court summons was really nothing to do with her, but just an annoyance. Like they would really get Sebastian in trouble for saving her from a would-be rapist or whatever it was he was going to do besides bang her head against the wall. Maybe he should be paying for her hospital bill? Maybe she should sue him? Jerk.

Loved and left? Well, she knew where he lived, and he wasn’t going to get away with it. See, she solved all her problems in one fell swoop. So, why didn’t she feel any better?

Because she really needed to let Sebastian have it, that was why. Tell him how much he hurt her by his silent treatment.

Leaving Simon in the safely fenced back yard, she marched over to his house. She didn’t see his car in the driveway but knocked on the door anyway.

No answer so she went home, let Simon back in to happily chomp away on his breakfast, then grabbed his key and went back over, unlocked the door and let herself in. It still looked cold and sterile in here, but most of the boxes were gone, unpacked, she assumed. It had been over two weeks since she’d been here. Of course, he’d unpacked boxes in the interim. It wasn’t like he was all frozen and on hold while he was ignoring her. His life still went on. She knew that. He didn’t care.

It broke her heart to think he could have made love to her the way he did last night, and then, just really not care. She knew many people were able to separate sex and real genuine feelings, but she was not one of them. To her it was a commitment, and a pledge of at least more feelings, more time together, serious emotions. To some it was fun and games. What was it to him? Since he’d left her with a very terse note, apparently, he’d be back at some point wanting more. For all his buttoned down and buttoned up exterior he was hell on wheels hot and knew just what to do in bed, but thought sex was just fun and games. Of course, he did. Tall, dark, handsome, rich and mysterious, she’d be stupid to think he was interested in her, a ball playing, junior high teacher. He had just been bored and decided to seduce the girl next door. She glared at the freckles on her nose in the bathroom mirror through her tear-filled eyes. She opened his medicine cabinet and left it open. That would drive his anal self crazy, she thought.

That thought made her giggle, and she went to his bedroom and opened all those drawers too. She might have peeked in his underwear drawer, but she did not snoop she told herself self-righteously. Then, she went into the kitchen and opened all those cabinets, too. He would go insane when he saw it, and that thought made her laugh. She did snoop in the kitchen some, but didn’t disturb anything. He had a nice set up, quite a few fancy appliances and high-end, stainless steel cookware. She tried not to drool over it. He hadn’t let her in the kitchen while she’d stayed there, but had brought her food and it had been great. She’d assumed he’d ordered in, but maybe he cooked it? And here she’d brought him homemade blackberry sauce to go on bought ice cream. She blushed and got irritated at herself for feeling bad and opened his oven door, and his microwave just for good measure, too. She left the refrigerator door shut. She didn’t want to ruin anything, just get under his skin like he got under hers when he was nice and then left her.

Yes, she was being childish, and she knew it. Did she care? Not really. She might feel bad at some point but right now, this felt good. She wasn’t damaging anything, but knew he’d be thinking about her when he went around and had to shut everything. Or he’d think he had a poltergeist. Wouldn’t it be amusing if the great Sebastian Jones believed in ghosts and got spooked? Somehow, she just didn’t think that was so, however.

Carefully locking the door behind her, she went back to her house, and settled down on her computer to browse her social media and see if she could find some cute kitten memes to take her mind off her cute, next-door neighbor. Kitten memes would never hurt you. Neither would lesson plans, she reminded herself, knowing there was only a month left before teacher break was over and she would be back in the classroom and getting ready for the new school year and the influx of students.

She sat down, stopped once for a cheese sandwich, and then got back to work. She didn’t realize a few hours had passed until Simon begged to go out. “Me, too, buddy,” she told him. “Let me get my shoes and we’ll go for a walk.”

Deliberately turning away from Sebastian’s house, she and Simon started off at a swift walk, but soon he had to stop and smell things and her feet slowed down while her mind raced. What had she been thinking? Opening his stuff like... a toddler. It was ridiculous. She needed to go back and fix things before he got home. What had she been thinking?

She turned around and hurried back home with Simon, letting him trot to his favorite bed in the laundry room and walked over to Sebastian’s house. He still wasn’t home, and she let out a sigh of relief as she let herself into the house with her key. Methodically she shut everything in the kitchen and in the bathroom, and then went down the hall and did the same in his office. Finally, she got to the bedroom. Going into that bathroom, she shut the cabinets and drawers and came back out to do the bedroom, and, of course, he was standing there looking around his bedroom and at her. All his dresser drawers were open, and it sure looked bad, she thought. She had no clue what to even say to him. He, of course, said nothing, just stood there and looked at her.

She put her hands on her hips, thinking fast and said, “I still can’t find the earrings I left here when I stayed. Do you have them?”

“Your earrings,” he stated, looking around the room at all the open drawers.

“Yes,” she said less confidently. “My earrings.”

He motioned for her to follow him as he turned and left the room. They walked down the hall to the living room. “Maggie, this is my brother, Logan. I picked him up early this morning.”

Logan looked nothing like Sebastian. He had dirty blond hair and the cutest little beard. Wearing jeans, sneakers and a polo shirt he looked the epitome of country club class.

“Hi,” she said, painfully aware of her no underwear, short shorts, baggy shirt state. Had she even given her hair more than a quick brush? She knew she had no makeup on. Why did she care? She didn’t. This boy-man was nothing to her, and she needed to concentrate on the fact this real man saw that she’d opened every drawer in his bedroom and she’d given him the lamest excuse ever in the history of lame excuses.

“Nice to meet you, Maggie,” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. “I’ve naturally heard nothing about you.”

“Hi, Logan,” she said, completely baffled. Was this the reason he left her in the night? Didn’t she feel even more like a child now?

“I had a bit of a problem and luckily Bastien was close enough to come help out,” he smiled at her and she saw the resemblance between the brothers.

“I ought to blister both your butts,” Sebastian growled, turned and stalked out of the room.

“Do you always bring out the best in him?” Logan asked her with a twinkle in his eye. He didn’t seem worried about the threat at all.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said. “I live next door.” She offered.

“And just happened to be here unexpectedly.” Logan nodded sagely.

“I should go home,” she said.

“Don’t rush out on my account. I’ll only be here for a few hours. Lucas is coming to pick me up soon,” he said and sat down on the couch, patting it invitingly beside him. “Come on, I’ll find us something fun to watch.” He grabbed the remote and flicked the TV on.

“My dog needs out,” she said and fled toward the front door, but then heard a very stern voice calling from the back of the house, “Maggie! Come back here!”

Not quite knowing what to do and not looking chuckling Logan’s way at all, she stopped, sighed and started walking toward the back of the house where his bedroom was. Why didn’t it occur to her not to? She had no idea.

As soon as she walked in the room, he kicked the door shut and pulled her in his arms, kissing her like she was a drink of water and he was a thirsty prospector. She was not expecting it, but relaxed in his arms, returning his kiss and feeling his alpha male wash all over her. She loved it.

“I’m sorry I had to leave,” he said, in her ear. “I’m sorry you took it the wrong way, too. Right now, though, I have to deal with Logan. As soon as I’m done, I’ll be over, and I’ll give you a spanking for being an insecure brat that you apparently need, then we can spend the night together.”

She melted, and he had to hold her up when her knees gave way.

“Okay,” she breathed into his mouth, willing him to kiss her again.

He obliged.

“When I get there, I want you in the baseball jersey and nothing else,” he said. “I’ll text you and I want you with your nose in the corner, waiting for your spanking.”

Looking up at him, startled, she found for once her smart mouth had nothing to say. All she could do was twirl around, blush hotly, give Logan a wave, and leave out the front door to the sound of Logan’s laughter. He was nothing like his stoic brother, was he?

Once home, she paced. She had no desire or inclination to work on her computer or do anything else. Corrine called her once, probably wanting to rehash the ball game, but she didn’t want to do that either. Letting it go to voicemail, she kept an eye on Sebastian's house. His brother called him Bastien. He didn’t look like a Bastien. Did he? What did a Bastien look like?

He was going to spank her when he came over. Her stomach, and lower, pulsed with anxiety. There was no doubt in her mind he would follow through, and though she would protest, she would still be in the corner dressed only in her baseball jersey and nothing else when he came over. Did she need to shave her legs? Of all the panicked things to think about, that one would matter. She’d showered this morning, she was fine, she reminded herself.

She got her jersey shirt from the dryer, and laid it out over the back of the couch. How far down would it go, she wondered, and she also wondered why she didn’t just not do it. Why she was accepting what he said, and couldn’t imagine not doing it? Why?

There was no doubt in her mind she would do as he said. Looking around, she wondered which corner she would stand in? Looking at the front door, she eyed the corner across, where he would see her the minute he walked in. Should she do that, or in the corner of her bedroom in case someone came over unexpectedly? What if Ben came over? He wasn’t coming over, she reassured herself, and she really wanted Sebastian to know she did as she was told. Maybe he would go easier on her if he saw she minded him.

Minded him? What was she, twelve? She didn’t have to mind him, she was a grown person who could do anything she wanted. Sighing, she realized she wanted to do what he told her to do. She enjoyed feeling his authority, and while the spankings were no fun in the moment, she rather enjoyed the anticipation of one, when he gave her a little warning anyway, and the after the fact where her bottom throbbed hotly, and he held her and used real words to comfort her and make her feel better.

Sighing again, Maggie kept pacing, her little shadow right behind her. She told him a few times he didn’t need to follow her, but he paid her no attention. His little legs were short but sturdy and he kept up easily, thinking it was a new fun game.

His house seemed quiet, for a while. What had Logan done? Had car trouble? What else could it be? Who else would you call in the middle of the night with car trouble but family? Well, Triple A. But family would be better. They were kind of obligated. She hadn’t heard his phone go off, but admitted she was so exhausted she wouldn’t have heard a text tone. Smiling, she remembered why she was sleeping so well. His fault. She would have to work harder to wear him out as much and then maybe he wouldn’t be checking texts and taking off.

Finally, a few hours later she saw a long, blue convertible pulling into Sebastian’s driveway and someone who looked exactly like Logan got out and walked up to the door. Twins? He didn’t tell her his brothers were twins. Not that they’d really talked about them much, she guessed. She watched out the window and kept an eye on her phone. Finally, she changed into her jersey, and pulled shut the laundry room door on Simon where he snoozed. All she had to do before he came over was slip out of her shorts. Heart pounding and cheeks blushing at the thought, she found a box of tissues and put it by the couch, then found another and put it by the bed. Where was he going to spank her? Why was she just accepting this instead of protesting or fighting? All she did was open a few drawers! And lie to him. Yeah. That. She hadn’t lost her earrings. He knew that.

Did she have time to cruise her favorite websites? Maybe have a bit of self-induced relaxation? No, she didn’t trust him not to show up unexpectedly. As soon as she saw the two blond guys and the big, blue car pull out of his driveway, she dropped her shorts and panties, folded them up and laid them on her bed, and put her phone where she could see a text. As soon as she got it, she knew he’d be here in a few minutes. Or would he? Would he make her wait for hours? She didn’t know. She just knew she had to—wanted to—be ready when he came in. She felt very naughty waiting for him, knowing what was going to happen and clad in her jersey and nothing more.

It grew dark before she got the text. “On my way.”

Finally. Maggie didn’t know what her emotions were. This is what she always dreamed of. But having experienced it, she wasn’t certain she wanted to again. Yet, she did. But there were the nerves. And what did Sebastian think? Was he mad at her? All she wanted was for him to be over here and for them to be together, like they were last night. With no silly childish nonsense between them. If that meant she had to accept a spanking, well, that seemed a small price to pay. Until she went over his knee and experienced it again.

She walked to the corner clad only in her Jones’ Equipment jersey, and on impulse, bunched it up above her waist so when he walked in he would see his submissive female, nose in the corner, bottom on display, ready for her spanking. What would he do? Would he like that? She dropped her shirt, then picked it back up again. There was the door. He was coming in.

And, of course, he wouldn’t say anything. What did he have against the English language? He needed to use it way more often than he did.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” She heard the door lock click behind him and felt a sense of relief that no one else could walk in. She still didn’t drop her jersey and he didn’t say anything about it.

“You left me. Again,” she emphasized. “With no explanation.”

“I left a note,” he sounded a bit astonished.

“Which explained nothing and made me think I’d been used.” She still hadn’t moved from the corner and still left her bare bottom on display for him. Darn right she was going to top from the bottom and if he didn’t realize it, well, that was his problem, wasn’t it?

“Used?” He said it as if it were a word he didn’t understand.

“Yes. Like you wanted me for sex and then left me. Like I meant nothing to you but a hole to screw. Used.” She dropped her shirt and whirled around.

“No,” he said, taking a step closer to her.

“Oh, well. That makes everything better.” She rolled her eyes and almost wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but had told too many students it was unacceptable to even consider it.

“No,” he repeated, and she regretted not being fully dressed and able to figuratively spit in his eye.

“No means nothing,” she said as softly as she could. “Nothing.”

“It means you were wrong. I didn’t use you.”

“Yet, it was twice now we got close and you walked away from me.”

Sebastian saw the pain in her eyes, heard it in her voice and for some reason, cared. He’d hurt women before, of course, but knew they would get over it. This one, he wanted to comfort and let her know he hadn’t used her. That she wasn’t fungible.

Was he capable of doing that? He needed to think on it. First, he’d promised her a spanking and he had to deliver that. Then he needed to have a good think on what she had said and what he was feeling. That was for later and right now, he knew he’d disappoint her if he broke his promise to her.

He turned, walked to the kitchen and picked up the wide, wooden spoon she kept in a crock on her counter. Then turned around and called her. “Come here, now,” he said, as he pulled out a kitchen chair.

She came in and looked at the chair and the wooden spoon with huge wide eyes and he understood she knew what was going to happen. She clutched her bottom with both hands and took a step backwards.

“What happens to little girls who throw tantrums?” he asked sternly, not sitting down in the chair yet. She might run, who knew?

“I opened a few drawers. Looking for my earrings,” she protested but didn’t look him in the eye.

“What happens to little girls who lie?” he asked and smacked the wooden spoon against his palm.

She looked up, then looked down, but her hands never left her bottom. Yeah, she was expecting it and he would not disappoint her.

“They get spanked?” she whispered as if it were a question.

“Yes,” he said, then sat down in the chair, and patted his leg. “Over you go.”

He felt a little bad she felt deserted because that was his fault. He had left her, but... Well, but what? He didn’t know.

What had happened to him? He had women, many women and trained them all just like he wanted them, and then happily and easily moved on with no remorse. What was it about this one? He didn’t want this one to leave him. He wanted to take care of her and be the only one to discipline her and make love to her. He didn’t want to cheerily hand her over to someone who would take advantage of her training. His.

She walked over slowly, and he could see the desire and trepidation in her big brown eyes. It would not stop him from doing what needed done, however. He would not let her down again. Standing in front of him, she whispered, “I’m sorry for being a brat,” and then put herself over his lap.

The first crack of the spoon made a lovely red mark on her bottom and she gave an expected reaction. Jerking and stiffening, she went into ‘you can’t make me cry’ mode, he could tell. He’d never understood it. Sure, he was of the ‘bottoms could take a lot’ way of thinking, but he never understood a stoic response. Bravery? Stubbornness? He didn’t know, but he knew that part of giving a good and needed spanking was watching the antics of the naughty brat over his knee. The bottom wiggling and turning from very pale pink to often quite red. The transformation of an often elegant and poised woman into a sobbing, kicking, squalling, sniffling mess. Knowing only he had the power to make it stop, and that she knew it, too, though that often didn’t stop them from trying by begging, pleading and attempting to roll off his lap.

Sebastian started a steady staccato of wooden spoon smacks against her bottom, and half smiled realizing her stoic behavior didn’t last very long. Well, she was pretty new to this entire spanking thing, he realized. Newbies were often shocked at the severity of the sting. The wooden spoon was one of his favorite implements and he played it well. Five smacks to one cheek and five to the other, then a few low and sweet, those made her jump every time. He liked the view. This one was going to be serious. The drawer opening was a childish prank, and he halfway understood that, but the lying about her earrings? He knew darn good and well she didn’t have any earrings on when she came over. She had started wiggling dramatically now, and he gave her five more and then stopped but didn’t rub, letting the sting make his point. “Lying to me?” he said, and swatted her again, making her gasp and let out a sob.

“I won’t have it.” He emphasized each word with a sharp swing and smack of the spoon, and each time was pleased to hear a deeper sob and see an instinctive jerk. He knew her tightly closed legs, in an effort to preserve some sense of modesty, would give way to kicking soon.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” he asked. Yeah, sorry wasn’t good enough.

“Being a brat,” she wailed, not looking at him, but propping herself up on her hands.

“Why were you being a brat?” That one seemed to stump her, and he knew the best way to her brain was through a sore bottom so started in again. This time three quick smacks to each cheek and two to the sweet spot before repeating.

Maggie thought she’d been over his knee her entire life. She didn’t remember a time her butt wasn’t on fire and vowed to burn that wooden spoon in the fire place as soon as she possibly could. It stung like nothing she’d felt before. Giving in, finally, she lost any modicum of self-respect, though seriously, what did she actually have with her bare bottom over his lap where he could see anything and everything?

“I’m done, no more, no more!” she sobbed out. She should know by now, that begging didn’t stop it. What did? Some time, when she wasn’t over his knee, she’d have to ask him but for now it was all she had. “Ow! Please!” She wiggled hard. “Not there! Please, please!” Panic set in.

Desperately, she threw her hand back to try and stop him, and when he grabbed her wrist felt even more helpless. At least she didn’t have any pants to kick off this time. She could feel the sobs building and finally couldn’t hold them back anymore. This was going to go on forever. How could she deal anymore? She couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. He was going to kill her, she knew it.

She cried, not caring anymore. It was the only thing she could do. He had all the control, all the power and it was over her. That could be hot if she wasn’t in so much pain. Why had she wanted this?

It took her a few minutes to realize he’d stopped the spanking, and was speaking words. She couldn’t hear them, she was crying too hard and she couldn’t stop. He must have realized that, because he was pulling her up onto his lap. His pants rubbed her sore bottom and not in a good way. He had hold of her wrists and wouldn't let her rub.

Weirdly, she only wanted to seek comfort from the one who inflicted her such pain. He held her, petted her and said some words she couldn’t understand until he finally said, “Back to the corner with you.”

Shaking her head, she held onto him tighter. “No?” she whispered.

“Yes. I want to see that red butt over there in that corner. Hold your shirt up high so I don’t miss a thing, and don’t you dare rub it, or you will be back over my knee for a second session.” He sounded very stern, as if he meant business. Clinging to him, she tried to get a reprieve, but he stood her up on her shaky legs and informed her again, “No rubbing. Corner, now.”

Maggie walked back over to the corner she’d stood in earlier, this time with his handiwork blazoned on her back side, and tried not to smile through her tears. This was what she’d always wanted, but dang, did he have to spank so hard? She’d have to work on that. Some other time.

“Shirt,” he said.

Oh, yeah, that. Fisting her shirt in front of her she made sure he could see everything he wanted and everything he’d done. Yeah. That. She couldn’t stop the smile this time.