My Naughty Little Secret

by Finnegan, Tara

  The ground was wet and muddy from the torrential rain of the Atlantic coast, but he didn’t care. He told me later he wanted to give me a proper proposal, one I would remember fondly in our old age, but he already had. He had proposed a few times by now: some untimely, some bordering on harassment, and some with heartfelt sincerity, but I knew nothing would ever beat my Christmas letter. He went down on his knee in the mud and the rain.

  “Miss Siobhan Brennan, will you please do me the honour of being my wife?”

  Michael was oblivious to the fact that Dad had seen us arrive and had opened the door to let us in out of the lashing rain, resulting in the proposal being witnessed by the entire Brennan family. I got out of the car, took his hand to stand him up out of the mud, and answered:

  “Mr Henrii, it would be my pleasure,” following it with a kiss.

  We turned round to the sound of cheering from Keeva and Aislinn. Dad swept me into a loving embrace and warmly welcomed Michael as a son. Unfortunately I saw the brief look of horror that flitted across Mam’s face as she stood back letting the others wish us joy, trying to gather her wits for the congratulations she would be forced to offer. She hugged me, trying to hide the tears in her eyes, and kissed Michael on the cheek. I really didn’t know what her problem was, but I was gutted. Still, now wasn’t the time or the place for this.

  “Well, Granny and Granddad can die happy,” Keeva taunted, mercifully distracting my thoughts.

  “When did you say you are off to Dublin for your screen test?” I asked with insincere sweetness.

  “In a couple of days, why?” she answered.

  “Because it’s not half bloody soon enough,” I laughed, encased in the joy of the rest of my family at least.

  When we eventually got a few minutes, Michael asked when I had switched my ring. I told him it had been last night.

  “You mean you put me through twelve hours of unnecessary waiting?” he admonished sternly.

  The muscles in my tummy clenched in excitement. I’d given him what he wanted, and he knew I dearly wanted spanking back, so it appeared he was willing to try it again. I knew he had learned a valuable lesson about spanking in anger and wouldn’t repeat the same mistake in a hurry. Unlike me, who seemed to make the same blunders over and over, much to the detriment of my behind.

  “Yes, I did; have you got a fucking problem with that?”

  “I have two problems now, Miss Brennan—your lack of consideration and your language, and first chance I get, they are going to be your problems. I believe I have a wife to train.”

  I felt myself flooding again, both in my privates and in my heart. My Michael was back. The rest of the holiday passed in a haze of heady excitement. I got plenty of surfing in and Michael finally, much to Dad’s delight managed to stay upright and ride a few good waves. I eventually got my spanking when we got the house to ourselves for a short while on New Year’s Eve and I was relaxed and at ease with the world.

  I knew Dad was sad to see us heading back to England, but he seemed to feel that I was in good, steady hands. Now if he knew just how firm those hands could be, he might not have been quite as easy about me! I could see he was really troubled that Mam couldn’t find joy in my happiness We bade our adieus before bed on the second of January as our flight was very early next morning to enable us be in the store for the start of the January sales.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Can we go and see Dad first, please? I really want to tell him our news,” Michael begged.

  He was like an excited puppy—annoying, but so cute. But it was early in the morning and I really didn’t have the energy for him. I didn’t know what was up with me these days. I seemed to be constantly tired and grouchy. I wanted to join in his enthusiasm, but I just couldn’t find the vigour. It was too much for me. To tell the truth, I dreaded the next couple of weeks. I was dead on my feet. I loved my job, but it had left me drained. I was beginning to wonder if it was all too much for me, Maybe I wasn’t up to the task. My rational mind didn’t believe that and Michael certainly wouldn’t accept it. He was nagging me to see a doctor, telling me that I was even paler than usual and he thought maybe I was anaemic or something. Certainly I was off my food a lot of the time and my legs had felt like lumps of lead on the surfboard. And I could sleep for Ireland. All I wanted was to get out of the taxi and go to the apartment and sleep. But instead I had a heavy day of catching up with work and some serious news to break. It’s not that I wasn’t excited, but the trip to Ireland or the promotion or the party or maybe all three had really taken it out of me.

  Don’t get me wrong; I had really grown fond of James and I was looking forward to seeing his reaction. I knew he wanted Michael and me to get it together. Michael was the future of Banbury’s and that James wanted me to be part of that future, I knew beyond question. But I just didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with his all-encompassing zeal. I knew the minute he heard the news he’d be sucking me into the Banbury institution.

  I wasn’t wrong. As soon as Michael told him, he insisted on conference-calling Catherine, Lydia at her workplace and Gaston at his. He even wanted to include my parents, but I drew the line. A conference call to Easkey at any time was preposterous, but at eight-thirty in the morning was just plain fucking mad! If the phone rang at that hour of the morning, they would assume our plane went down and the panic stations would set in. The call with the other three went very well. Everyone expressed surprise and delight and Michael was in seventh heaven. I couldn’t begrudge him a minute of it as after all I’d had my moment of glory in Ireland. I understood that it must have been difficult for him to be having this conversation across phone lines when really he’d have loved to have them all in the same room to share his joy. I was momentarily grateful for my provincial little family and life as I was vaguely aware of James organising a family get-together at the weekend to celebrate our engagement.

  A half an hour had barely passed before Myra telephoned. James had been onto her like a shot. Bless her, she was as sweet as ever and cut through the bullshit.

  “I’m sure you could do with an hour away from James, Do you fancy lunch?”

  “Oh, Myra, I’m not kidding, nothing would give me more pleasure to have an hour of sense, but I have to meet my housemates and break the news. I’d much rather a quiet glass of wine in In Vino In Veritas with you. Can you manage tomorrow instead?”

  “It’s a date,” she agreed.

  I met Claire and Tara for lunch in TGI Fridays and I couldn’t help wishing it was Friday. I really didn’t know how I was going to handle the week ahead. The girls insisted on celebrating my news with bubbles, a bottle of Prosecco. It was really lovely, light and dry, but the bubbles went straight to my head. I’d had my driest Christmas in my drinking years; I just seemed to have lost my taste for it and one glass went straight to my head. On the tube back to Knightsbridge, I felt a hot and cold flush. A cold clammy feeling clawed at me, I walked the short distance from the tube station to the office without registering a step along the way; I just knew I urgently needed to be sitting at my desk. I met James in the corridor as I came in, but I couldn’t stop, I needed the ladies’ urgently. I felt sick. The stress of Christmas, the excitement of the engagement, the ridiculously early start, and then alcohol at lunchtime knocked me for six. Wouldn’t you think that at my age I’d have more wit?

  James was waiting at my desk when I returned and nothing would do him but for me to go home. I insisted I was fine, which I was now after I’d thrown up, but he was adamant. He even insisted that Laura, the new personnel assistant, walk home with me. Jesus, he was worse than his son. He said he’d tell Michael to ring me after his meeting. Sometimes I felt like James was another bloody boyfriend. I wished he’d back off a bit. But he was only starting.

  The next day I was full of the joys of life again and was at my desk bright and early. I spent a busy morning catching up on what I’d missed and was glad to have the excuse to meet Myra for lunch. For once I made it back
on time. I normally seemed to get a spanking for my timekeeping whenever I met Myra as the time passed so quickly and she was never under pressure to watch the clock. I stuck my head around Michael’s door at five to two.

  “Disappointed?” I asked.

  “What?” he asked, looking confused.

  “I’m back on time,” I announced, going into his office. I shut the door and slipped off my panties and handed them to him. “But we can pretend I’m late,” I said cheekily.

  “Miss Brennan, are you asking for a spanking?”

  “Yes, please, sir.”

  “Well, I’ll see what I can do later. You’re obviously feeling better today.”

  He balled up my panties and raised them to his lips, making a mwah sound with a wolfish grin. I saw the bulge in his trousers and smiled.

  “You had better stay sitting at your desk for a while,” I advised, amused.

  “Why don’t you sit on my lap?”

  “No chance, Michael, save it for later, I wouldn’t want to waste it here,” I taunted.

  “There’s plenty more where this comes from,” Michael promised.

  “Later, dear.” I left him nursing his erection.

  At seven I rang Michael to say I was leaving. He asked me to call into him before I left the building. The place was deserted apart from the two security guards on the shop floor. As I entered the room, he came out from behind the door and swiftly locked it, trapping me inside and locking intruders out.

  “Miss Brennan, you are a very naughty lady,” he said, holding a wooden ruler in his hand. “You have caused me to be distracted and dysfunctional all afternoon and now you must be punished.” He led me over to the conference table.

  “Bend over that and lay your hands flat on the table above your head,” he ordered sexily.

  “Oh, no, sir, I beg your forgiveness, please let me go at once,” I retorted, very much enjoying the game.

  “If I let you off this time, then you will only misbehave again, you must be punished. Severely!” he said menacingly. “Now we are starting at twenty, but I will add on another ten for every minute you disobey.”

  “Sir, please, that’s uncalled for,” I beseeched mockingly.

  “Thirty.”

  I was getting wetter by the second and Michael’s breathing was short and spiked.

  “No. sir, I must protest. I will report you to the industrial relations committee,” I threatened.

  “Forty!”

  Thinking that would be quite as much as I could bear, I lay on the desk face down and put my hands above my head. I felt him raise my skirt above my hips. This was shit hot. I felt him bring the ruler down on my bottom.

  “Count. you naughty girl, count…”

  “One.”

  “One what?” He spanked me again.

  “One, sir.”

  “Good, that only counts as your first. I want the number and sir after each stroke or we start over. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He spanked again. “Two, sir, three, sir” and on and on until I got to “forty, sir,” panting and groaning and soaking wet.

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now you need a little further training in your office duties,” he told me lustily. “Kneel down on the floor and kiss my penis.”

  I tried to look shocked. “But sir, that’s not in my job description.”

  “If you read the small print, you would have seen duties as required. I think this is as required,” he ordered, threateningly swishing the ruler in the air. I gently kissed the tip of his engorged cock. I pulled the foreskin, exposing some of the moisture gathering there and rubbed it with my finger. Then I put my moistened finger on my clit and circled gently. Michael groaned.

  “You are not finished your training yet,” he sternly told me. “Take my penis in your mouth, you naughty girl… Aagh, fuck,” he said as I obeyed.

  I sucked his penis, taking it deep into my mouth. Pulling back, I gave him what I thought was an innocent look.

  “Was that right, sir?” I asked, batting my lashes at him.

  “I’m not sure, try it again,” he ordered, “and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

  I sucked harder and pumped him with my mouth until he shouted, “STOP.”

  “Good girl, you learn quickly, but there’s still more.”

  “Stand up and lean slightly over the table, placing your hands on the edge,” he ordered.

  “Sir,” I objected again in a small voice, “surely I have performed above and beyond the call of duty.”

  “Not quite, Miss Brennan, you must learn to follow my instructions unquestioningly,” he ordered, swishing the ruler again.

  I did as he bade. Michael hitched up my skirt and entered me, making me come immediately. As I thrashed in ecstasy, he thrust and ejaculated his juice into my hot wet pussy.

  I grinned, “I hope no one ever comes to make a complaint about inappropriate behaviour about you. I’ll have to believe them.”

  “Only if the complainant is a certain Miss Brennan,” he reminded me with a kiss.

  “God was smiling down on me from heaven the day he put us both in the lingerie department. You’re one hot fuck.”

  “You’re not too bad yourself,” I smirked. “Are you coming home, Sir?”

  “Just as soon as my legs are capable of functioning,” he grinned. “Do you want your knickers? It’s cold out there.”

  “I suppose. I wouldn’t want to catch a chill, since I’m so damp.” I quipped.

  He swatted my behind. “Dirty slut,” he teased, handing me my panties.

  “And you love it.”

  We walked down to the exit hand in hand, passing the security room. One of the security men was watching the CCTV cameras. I noticed two of the screens covered the corridors of the office space upstairs.

  “Good job your office doesn’t have glass walls,” I giggled.

  * * *

  James had cut his working hours back and he now only worked Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. On Friday morning he called a meeting with Michael and me. I was stunned to hear his proposition. He was determined that some of the shares of the company should be passed to me and he wanted to transfer more of his to Michael. Safeguarding the future, he called it. I argued bitterly against any shares. It all seemed wrong to me. Sure, I intended to continue working in Banbury’s for now, but I wasn’t marrying the institution, I was marrying Michael. And we weren’t even married yet. I had done nothing to earn the shares and it went against the grain. He started talking crap about the future generations needing protecting and how it had been for the best that Lydia had been a shareholder, etc., but I got really mad. Michael and I hadn’t even discussed if children were on the cards and James was poking his nose into a very private area of our lives. Hell, I wasn’t even thinking about kids yet. Sure, maybe I might want them in four or five years, but first I had a career to attend to. And so too, for that matter, had Michael. It was new to both of us. I could see from his face he was as stunned as I was. But James was formidable when he got a bee in his bonnet.

  As if that wasn’t all bad enough, he then produced yesterday’s newspapers which we had missed, caught up in our own private bubble of domestic bliss. In the social pages there was an announcement and a photo of us kissing at the 100th party.

  Heir to Banbury’s engaged.

  Michael Henrii, recently announced as heir to the Banbury empire, to wed Irish girl and colleague, Siobhan Brennan.

  I felt sick, I saw a brief mention of Easkey and that was enough, it was back to the ladies’ room for me. This was way more than I’d bargained for. Shit, I could imagine the Sligo Champion quoting the story next week. I’d better warn them at home. I ended up leaving work early again. Michael did his best to be reassuring, but he really didn’t get how deep the horror ran in me. He’d been raised in a different world and this kind of thing was par for the course with him. The nightmares started that night and would plague me, leaving me listless and low until I caved under the
pressure.

  Saturday night was the so-called “celebration dinner.” Lydia and Gaston had flown over from Paris. I was like a demon. Michael, in an effort to distract me, challenged me to wear the love egg out for dinner. I agreed, more to please him than for any pleasure he thought I might derive from it. We were running late, for once because Michael was disorganised. I think the whole thing was getting to him more than he let on. They were all sitting at the table as we arrived and I whispered some quip about him keeping them waiting. He hit the remote and the vibrations took over. I was amused, but gave him a defiant look for the hell of it. The one thing that bothered me was I was afraid they might hear the hum of it.

  “Shit, it’s a bit noisy,” I whispered and he grinned.

  “Behave yourself and I won’t put it on again.”

  So that was how he was playing it. Fucker! The waiter came round and I ordered the mussels as a starter, followed by venison. I was really disappointed with the mussels; they were one of my favourite foods but they tasted off, although Michael disagreed. The venison was delicious. I had to make a couple of trips to the ladies’ and Michael used that time to have fun with the egg, switching it into life as I exited the dining room and off again as I approached the table before I was close enough for the hum to be heard. He kept me distracted and on my toes ‘til dessert. First of all they started talking wedding plans. Fuck, they wanted a function second only to Kate and William’s! No bloody way did I want a multitude of strangers at my wedding and I strenuously objected. That’s when James gave us our engagement presents. Envelopes. I knew without opening it what it contained. Shares in my name. I was livid. Michael opened his envelope, looked at my unopened one, and looked at my face. I opened my mouth to speak and the fury must have shown, because all of a sudden I felt the egg flash into life. That made me twice as mad, making my eyes flash at him in rage.

  “Don’t say a fucking word. Go to the ladies’.” he hissed. Normally he only swore in the bedroom, so I got the picture and didn’t dare defy him. To my total horror, he followed me in there. Shit, what if he got caught? Before I had the chance to protest, he pushed me into a cubicle, pulled up my dress, and abruptly inserted his finger in my anus, causing me to wince in discomfort. The first words he spoke were: