Covert Cravings by Maggie Carpenter Page A

“Let’s start again.  You were just saying words.  Words you think I want to hear.  And I do want to hear them but they have to come from your heart.  You have to mean them.  Now start over and tell me how you really feel, and what you want me to do.”
    Oh Lord.  He’s right.  He’s always right!
    “Sorry,” she mumbled.  “It’s just a bit strange for me.  I mean…”
    “Take your time.  Just talk to me.  Honestly,” he coaxed.
    “Well,” she began, sitting back on her haunches, “I feel really –”
    “Kneel back up please,” he said, firmly, interrupting her.  “Leaning back on your feet like that isn’t working for me.”
    “Oh?  Yes.  Sorry, sir,” she replied, and as she rose up on her knees she could feel the difference.
    “Um, yes.  I see what you mean,” she mumbled.
    “Continue, please.”
    “Actually, kneeling here,” she began, feeling a blush rise across her face, “I am feeling really ashamed.  I mean, really.  I didn’t trust you.  Not only did I not trust you, I was a coward.  I realize that now.  I don’t think I’ve ever been cowardly like that.  I guess I was just scared that you’d reject me.”
    “What have I ever done to make you think I’d reject you?”
    “Nothing,” she sighed.  “I was being stupid.  Childish, and secretive, and oh, Scott, sir, I feel so guilty.”
    She looked up at him, then down at the hairbrush.
    “Please – I really need you to do this.  I’m scared but I need you to spank me.  Just like I wrote except, it matters.  It’s not just a fun fantasy thing anymore.  I need to be punished, properly punished.  Not just for lying and deceiving you, but for hurting you.  I’m really sorry,” she whimpered, and while offering him the hairbrush added, “Please, sir?  Please will you spank me?  I don’t want to feel guilty anymore.  I want a fresh start.”
    He took the hairbrush from her hands and rolled it around his fingers.
    “Do you understand this is going to hurt? And I mean, really hurt?”
    Her face crinkled and she shifted uncomfortably on her knees.
    “Yes, sir,” she squeaked.  “I do.”
    “And I’ll spank you as long and as hard as I see fit.  If you start begging me to stop, I’ll have to spank you harder – and longer.  Can you control yourself?”
    “I uh – I guess I’ll find out,” she quivered.
    “I guess you will,” he agreed.  “Last chance.  Are you sure?”
    She took a deep breath.
    “Yes.  I’m sure.  I deserve it.”
    “You most certainly do,” he said, his voice suddenly very stern.
    He rose from the chair and walked around her, and pulled the ottoman from its place in front of the fire, placing it directly in front of her.
    “Bend across it please,” he said, brusquely.
    Emily, thinking she was going to be across his lap, stared at it.
    “I’m waiting.  And I’m getting tired of saying that.  Bend over the ottoman.  It’s quite simple.”
    Leaning forward she placed herself across the soft, padded seat.  She saw him reach behind the chair and when he pulled his hand back he was holding a black satin scarf and several lengths of rope.
    “Oh my gosh.  Scott?  What are you going to do?”
    “Gag you if you ask such questions,” he answered, sharply.  “Be quiet.”
    Gulping, she stayed still as he pulled the black sash across her eyes and tied it securely behind her head.  Then taking her wrists he tied them quickly around the front legs of the ottoman, then did the same with her knees at the back.  He was fast and efficient.  Within a couple of minutes she found herself completely secured and unable to move.
    Settling in the chair he sat back and studied her.   He was very unhappy with what she had done.  It was interesting to feel aroused at the sight of her helplessness and upset with her for her actions.  It was almost a conflicting set of emotions.  But the more he thought about her duplicity the more he understood what he was feeling.