My Naughty Little Secret

by Finnegan, Tara

  “I’m thinking seriously about it, but there’s a lot more to it than meets the eye. There’s some stuff I need to take care of in Paris and here. Can we talk about it when you get back and I’ll tell you everything then?”

  The brush-off again. What was I supposed to think? One minute he wanted to come to Ireland, next he wouldn’t talk about his plans.

  “And while you’re at it, what about meeting some of your friends or your family?” I couldn’t resist twisting the knife now that I was riled.

  “When you get back, Siobhan, I promise, I’ll tell you everything. I’d rather not tell you just before you leave me. I don’t want you making something bigger than there has to be out of it.”

  Well, that really instilled me with confidence. I had a vague feeling that this might be our last weekend together. Whatever he was hiding, it was obviously big enough for him not to want to give me time to brood. Maybe he was engaged. Christ, why hadn’t I thought of that before? Maybe that was why he was hiding me from his family. Please, please, not another Brian, I thought.

  “Ok, just tell me one thing, and then I’ll drop it. What’s the story with that French woman you were going out with?”

  I had to do it, didn’t I? I just couldn’t keep my big mouth shut.

  “Vivienne?” was the stunned reply.

  Oh, yeah, she had to be called something sexy like Vivienne, didn’t she? Could she not have been called something boring like Agathe or Marthe? Bloody typical, so much sexier than Siobhan. I bet she was tall, leggy, and had the famed Parisian chic too. Bitch!

  “Christ, Siobhan, you don’t think I’m still going out with her since I met you, what do you take me for?” he snapped.

  “I dunno, you seem to want to keep me well hidden. So what are you afraid of?”

  “Yeah, and you’re the one who doesn’t even want to talk to me at work…” He looked really annoyed with me, but the reassurance I felt was immeasurable. I could handle his anger as long as he wasn’t two-timing me. “…I’m going to bed, are you coming or not?”

  He left half a pint behind and stood up, stomping away. Crikey, this was turning into a right humdinger and it was supposed to be a celebration. I followed him, raging. It was the only serious row we’d had since that first week when I wouldn’t see him again. He took the stairs, racing three steps at a time. I hadn’t a hope of keeping up in my heels and he knew it. When I eventually reached the bedroom, the door was shut and the TV was on loud. It took several minutes of loud banging on the door before he eventually let me in. I was pretty sure he could hear me above the TV, but he was letting me stew.

  “Nice of you to join me,” he censured.

  “For God’s sake, Michael, I left just after you and you know it. Grow up.”

  “Me grow up? You accuse me seeing someone behind your back and you tell me to grow up.”

  “You’re the one too ashamed of me to introduce me to your fucking family, but think I shouldn’t be allowed to go to see mine.”

  “You’re going to pay for that language,” he admonished sternly. Then a bit more softly, “Look, we’re going round in circles. After you get back, we’ll have dinner with Dad, I can’t say any fairer than that. I didn’t know it was bothering you so much, and it’s kind of complicated. Friends?”

  He held out his arms and I was surprised by the strength of his embrace. He held me like he never wanted to let me go. He smelled lovely and felt even better. Sometimes I thought my life would have been much less complicated if I had never met him. I probably wouldn’t have started with this spanking stuff and I wouldn’t be so vulnerable. I really had the horrors that in another three months he was going to leave. I had become much more attached than I had ever intended to allow myself. It was a bittersweet hug. So warm and welcoming, yet so poignantly scary. Within ten days I’d know his plans. Shit, maybe ignorance was bliss. He smelled like Michael mixed with the sea and beer. He felt taut and strong, and yet his embrace was soft. I never wanted him to let me go, but I was so afraid the time was coming soon. He kissed my hair before asking:

  “Why do you always assume the worst of me, Shiv?”

  “I don’t know. You scare me. It’s been so intense, but I know you’ll leave.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere you aren’t. I’d really like you to move in with me.”

  “Oh, hell, you know how to pick your moments, don’t ya?” I laughed, kind of chuffed. “You’re back to stalking. It’s too soon for that, it’s only two months, and you haven’t told me everything yet. Can we deal with that when I get back as well?”

  “Ok, but I’m serious, and now you need to get ready for bed. I think there’s a little issue of swearing at me to be dealt with.” He put on his bossy tone and he had me immediately dancing his tune. I went off nervously, but obediently, to undress and brush my teeth.

  “You can’t really spank me here, it’ll be too loud,” I protested as I came back from the bathroom. Now that I knew him better, I couldn’t help trying to worm out of punishments. Sure, I felt wonderful after them, but they had to be got through first.

  “I’ll think of something, don’t worry. Lie across the bed; you know the position,” said Mr Sexy Bossy Boots. “Don’t delay or I’ll double it.”

  I climbed up on the bed obediently and placed some pillows under my hips like he had shown me before. He rummaged in his bag.

  “I was hoping you’d give me an excuse to use these this weekend,” he whispered huskily in my ear. “And here you are now ready and waiting. Good girl.”

  I tried to turn around to see what he was up to.

  “Ah, ah, no peeping!” he warned. “Here, hold this against your mouth in case you get too loud,” he ordered, handing me another pillow.

  Oh, boy, it was really hard not knowing what was coming. I could feel my body go into hyper-alert mode. Then I heard a swish and something stung. I mean really stung. I fought the urge to screech and I heard the swish again. Fuck. And again, ten times in total. The cane was deathly silent but deadly effective. The noise danger was me. Again, he lectured through my punishment, pointing out the error of my ways.

  “Stop, stop, enough,” I begged. Michael the schoolmaster at last! I recalled my dream and realised it had been déjà vu; not the schoolmaster as such, but the disciplinarian. I could feel ten stripes of agony across my buttocks and I was fairly sure there would be marks the next day; he’d never left marks before. I reached my hands back to protect myself. I could feel the raised welts. So why the hell was my pussy soaked? I should be outraged, not gasping for it.

  “You’re not done yet,” he warned, moving my hands away.

  “Please, Michael, I can’t keep quiet if you keep that up,” I begged, half hoping he’d ignore my pleas. Some crazy submissive part of me desired more, I just didn’t have the courage for it. Often after a spanking I felt like that, like I wanted him to force more on me than I thought I could take. For him to push me to my limits. I honestly think deep down I was hoping for the cathartic release of being brought to tears, which had never yet happened.

  “Keep your hands under your tummy; no more caning, but I’m not finished punishing you.” My clit jumped with his words and my sex was warm, wet, and so demanding.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I shouted as I felt something cold squirted on my anus. I tried to wriggle, but Michael was sitting on my legs by now.

  “Shush, just relax,” he advised. “I want to try something.” His voice was soothing and commanding. I was unable to resist his coaxing. My spanking had already assured him of my obedience. I settled as best I could. I could feel him gently rubbing the opening of my anus. Circling round and round. My very senses resisted. I could feel all of my muscles clench their objection.

  “Relax, Shiv,” he coaxed again and I tried to obey. I felt his finger push its way in, just a little bit. I tried to force it out, but he kept pushing and pushing against my resistance. There was absolute agony in the spasms that tried to force out his finger, and
the humiliation was like nothing I had ever sensed before. But then it was in, not very far, but in nonetheless. And when he had breached the taboo and the “cherry” so to speak, he felt I was punished enough. He worked the clit with his other hand and very gently worked his finger in and out until the pain and humiliation were replaced with a hunger and a need. He withdrew his finger.

  “You’ll have to do the condom,” he ordered. “On the locker.”

  I sat up and obliged. I briefly kissed the feather-soft helmet—engorged beyond anything I’d seen before—causing him to moan in ecstasy. His throbbing penis was a deep dark purple. He was at a different level of arousal, something new, more basal. It was obvious that had been an extreme high for him. I sucked on it for a few moments prior to rolling the latex along his hard hot shaft. But I knew not to go too far; he was near exploding point and I didn’t want him to lose control, not until I’d felt that arousal inside me.

  “On all fours,” he ordered. “I want to see that beautiful behind, with those red stripes.”

  He roughly forced my legs apart with his knees and fixed himself in a kneeling position between them. “Guide me,” he ordered and I dutifully took his hard cock in my hand, placing it on my waiting feminine slit. He entered swiftly in one merciless shove and my body jerked back to meet him with an urgent need. We thrust hard and fast; I felt the fullness of his extreme arousal as we became the beast with two backs, to borrow Shakespeare’s phrase. Moving together, rocking our bodies as one, joined in a single purpose. Half of a whole. I came and came and came again. Michael couldn’t hold out long in that position; it was too charged, and on the third orgasm he came with me, shuddering hard.

  “I don’t know how you think I could ever leave you after that,” he joked lightly.

  “It’s only sex, you could get that with anyone,” I pointed out.

  “Yes, and how many others would let me be like that. Give me free rein like you do. You have ruined me forever, Siobhan.” And I knew he meant it because I felt it too. I couldn’t ever imagine it being as good as this again.

  Chapter Nine

  The offices were buzzing on Thursday with an announcement that there was going to be a big gala party at the beginning of December to celebrate one hundred years of the store. All of the department managers were called to a meeting to discuss it and I was amazed to be invited along. I obviously wasn’t the only person surprised at the invitation. As I was passing Michael’s office, I overheard part of a conversation between him and James, discussing the meeting and the attendees.

  “I thought it was department heads only. Why’s Siobhan’s name on the list?”

  “When I told Myra about my plans to retire, she said she might move on too, nothing definite, but she’s been here for an eternity. You can’t expect her to take to a new regime.”

  “Damn! What about Dermot? And Andy, the shop floor manager? Will they move on too?”

  “No, Dermot’s fine, he has another couple of years to retirement, and he’s happy to spend them here. Andy I’m not so sure, but I don’t think it’ll make a big difference to him.”

  “Myra’s leaving complicates things, there’s something…”

  At that, someone came around the corner so I had to move on. Anyway, I didn’t want the fate of the eavesdropper: hearing no good about myself. I got the impression Michael wasn’t too happy. I kind of understood, but I didn’t really see what difference it would make to him. If anything, it would be better as he wouldn’t be seen as taking advantage of a junior. I still couldn’t figure out though, how he had become such a confidante of James’ in such a short time, but anytime I tried to discuss James, Michael just fobbed me off, or worse, got annoyed. I headed along to the conference room to wait for the others. I figured I really needed to speak to Myra at this stage and resolved to do so at the earliest opportunity. I had been avoiding it so as not to put her on the spot.

  When James and Michael eventually arrived at the meeting, pretty late, both looked quite flustered. I wondered if it had anything to do with the conversation I had overheard. The managers compiled a list of contacts that they felt needed to be invited: customers, suppliers, rivals, and colleagues that should be on the list. The plan was to clear the shop floor and hold the celebrations on the ground floor, a mammoth task. There would be a team of removal specialists and caterers, etc.

  James shocked us all by saying he was hoping to go into semi-retirement immediately after the party and that there would be an announcement the night of the gala with a media release accompanying it. Although we all knew it was on the cards fairly soon, none of us expected it to be quite so imminent. There were a lot of hushed murmurs around the table until Dermot was forthright enough to ask the question that was on the tip of all of our tongues.

  “So soon, James. And have you done anything about a successor?”

  “I have and I’ll be announcing that at the same time, all going well. There’s a few loose ends to be tied up but hopefully all obstacles will have been removed by then, but for that reason I can’t tell you just yet.”

  More murmuring and whispering ensued until James called us to order. He said he had caterers and music booked already. The day of the party, the shop would shut early and the removal teams and caterers would be in. On Sunday they would return to put the place back in order. He gave everybody a task list to take care of and stunned the others by making me co-ordinator. I was actually quite chuffed. He seemed to be giving me more and more responsibility. Whatever objections Michael may have raised were obviously not enough to deter James from his plans. I couldn’t help but feel resentful. We were supposed to go for something to eat and back to his place that evening and I was tempted to cancel, but it was the last chance I had to see him before going home. Added to that, I was still nervous about what next week might bring.

  It was a rather subdued evening. I couldn’t very well tell Michael what I had overheard as I shouldn’t have been listening, and he obviously had a lot on his mind too as he was unusually quiet over our meal. Then he said he had dinner arranged with his father and stepmother for Wednesday evening. Crap, so that was what was bothering him. Maybe now when push came to shove, he didn’t want me to meet them. I knew he must be ashamed of me.

  When we finished eating, we went to Michael’s apartment where he poured us both a glass of wine. He was still very withdrawn.

  “Look, if it’s that big a deal, we can cancel Wednesday,” I snapped.

  “Sorry. Look, it’s not that I mind them meeting you; it’s you meeting them I have a problem with. I’m afraid you’ll be really angry. Anyway, it’s all arranged and you have to know sooner or later.” His face was ashen as he spoke in a low voice, scaring the shit out of me.

  “Know what, Michael?” I tremblingly beseeched.

  “Please, can we leave it until you get back? I want tonight. Please, Shiv…”

  I felt my heart was going to break in two. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good if he was so scared of telling me. He looked really torn; the furrows between his eyebrows were like deep ridges. I wanted to be able to soothe his fears, but if he wouldn’t tell me what the trouble was, how was I to help? I soothed him in the only way I knew I would get through to him for now. I led him through to the bedroom and slowly and tantalisingly started to remove my clothes item by item, shimmying and making a pathetic attempt at belly-dancing. I over-exaggerated every movement until it was almost farcical. Finally he rewarded me with a grin.

  “Siobhan Brennan, I love you.”

  Flaming Norah, did I just hear the L word? Crap, I was so not ready to deal with that one, not with all this shit hanging over us. Panic mode, fire alarms ringing in my head. I couldn’t think, what the hell was I supposed to say? Duh, yeah, I know I was supposed to say it back, but I couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. I hadn’t begun to allow myself to think like that. I was still waiting for him to leave me, remember.

  “No, you love the sex,” I teased, undressing him.

  “I love you
and the sex,” he corrected.

  Awkward silence. I was standing there naked and there was this gaping hole, waiting to be filled with my words. And I couldn’t do it. I felt like a complete heel, but I couldn’t say it just because he had.

  “Michael, it’s only been a couple of months, it’s a bit soon to talk about love. You’re back to stalking.”

  “I know how I feel. I don’t want to lose you. Promise me next week you’ll at least give me a chance; don’t just fly off the handle.”

  “Fuck it, what’s so bad that I’ll want to leave, and if you’re not going to tell me tonight, will you just shut up about it. I can’t stand this.”

  Thankfully the bad language was enough to distract him and he chased me round the room and gave me a good stinger on my already bare behind, lightening the mood. I fought him off and he lifted me up and threw me on the bed, climbing on top of me. Squealing with laughter, I raised my two legs and kicked him off with all my might. And the surfing meant I was strong. We scuffled for a bit, both really getting excited by the fight. The more I resisted, the more determined he became, until he eventually overpowered me and pinned my arms with his hands. He roughly spread my legs with his. He cock was hard as hell and he looked at me waiting for the nod, which I quickly gave. He was inside before I could blink, making me moan with ecstasy. His cock slipped in incredibly easily, no resistance.

  “Harder,” I taunted. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  “Fuck, Shiv, when you say that, I really want to show you, I want to show you here,” he warned ominously, touching my anus with his finger. I shivered with fear and semi-arousal. It was so dirty it was exciting.

  Needless to say, he did show me, but not there! It was all wet and soft and the movement was silky smooth. It felt different to usual. He thrust with all his might, keeping me pinned in place. Now that was bloody good. I couldn’t resist or edge away. He was in charge and there was no doubting it.

  “Fuck, that feels so good,” he grunted.