Matched for Keeps

by Stevie MacFarlane

  "I see," he said softly. "Apparently I've been laboring under a misapprehension. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

  Sue stilled, peeking at him over her shoulder. The spanking had stopped, for which she was grateful, but his voice made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. A shiver passed through her that she was unable to suppress and Marcus smiled in a way that terrified her. His blue eyes were shards of glass, looking through her, not an ounce of feeling reflected in them.

  "Marcus, I'm sorry," she sobbed, knowing instinctively that she'd made a horrible mistake. "I didn't mean it like that and I…"

  "Hush, Susan," he replied, stroking her so gently it was somehow worse than the spanking. "It is I who has made an error, one I mean to correct immediately. What I mistakenly thought of as a relationship was in fact a business deal. I'm sorry, my dear. It must have been difficult for you to pretend to have feelings that don't exist. I realize now that I am just your employer for the next few months," he said simply, picking up the anal plug and inspecting it.

  "What are you doing?" she squeaked, panic dripping from her voice as she felt his arm tighten around her waist.

  "Now, Susan, is that even a fair question?" he asked with a bitter smile. "I'm getting my money's worth. Don't move an inch," he instructed her firmly as he released his grip on her waist and picked up the lube.

  Susan stayed in position, her heart beating wildly as her frightened eyes watched him apply the gel to the slim plug. Under normal circumstances she would have made a run for it, but this man suddenly seemed like a stranger to her. His brittle smile never reached his cold eyes and for the first time she was over his lap and not feeling his erection pushing against her belly. Whatever appeal this moment had for her earlier was long gone. It was no longer a sexy exploration into forbidden territory and had morphed into a humiliating act of submission.

  "Marcus, please, please don't do this," she pleaded as tears dripped down her face and she clenched her bottom cheeks tightly.

  "I believe we have a contract that requires you to submit to me in all things sexual, and Susan, this is purely sexual, no strings attached. Feel free to fight me if you will, I shall enjoy subduing you and bending you to my will. Of course that could possibly make the whole experience slightly more painful for you, so you might want to consider that, my dear. In any case, I will have you over my knees with this plug lodged firmly in your bottom."

  "Why are you doing this?" she cried as she felt the slippery tip penetrate her ass the tiniest bit.

  "Because I want to," he replied smoothly, as he slowly removed the plug before pushing it farther in. "And because I can, this and anything else that strikes my fancy. Unless of course you want to break the contract," he added, slowing his hand as he twirled the plug. "But you would never do that, would you, Susan? No," he drawled, "that money means more to you than anything else, including your pride, doesn't it?"

  Susan sobbed over his lap as he carried on, continuing his patient advance and retreat. When he got close to the widest part of the plug she felt him remove it, only to reposition it at her opening and thrust quickly until it was buried inside her to the hilt.

  At her small cry of pain, Marcus doubted the wisdom of his actions, but only until he slipped his hand between her legs and felt the copious moisture she was spilling. For an instant his anger was replaced with incredible sadness. She was perfect for him in every way and this should have been a moment of passion for them both. Instead he was intent on punishing her and her body was responding against her will. What a fucked-up mess. Removing his hand from between her thighs, he enjoyed her cry of disappointment and resumed spanking her quivering bottom. Each smack was a small bit of retribution for fact that she didn't love him as he loved her and on some level he felt shamed by it, but his hand still rose and fell. This was what she'd agreed to and there was no point in denying the satisfaction it gave him to redden her ass from the top of her cheeks to halfway down her thighs. If she only wanted sex and discipline, he would give it to her.

  He could not stop loving her any more than he could stop his erection from pushing against her tummy as she sobbed over his lap. Her heartfelt cries echoed the silent howls of his own misery and he deliberately smacked the plug many times as she ground against his knee, soaking the fabric of his jeans.

  Marcus didn't stop until her bottom was candy-apple red and she was lying limply over his lap. Her surrender was complete as he thrust two fingers deep into her core. He could feel the plug in her ass through the thin wall that separated her channels as she quivered and clamped down on him with a guttural moan. She might not love him, but she loved what he did to her body, he thought with grim satisfaction. For now it would have to be enough.

  Susan was beyond mortified. Each withdrawal of his thick fingers had her teetering on the edge of begging. She was a sloppy, snotty mess, her hair plastered to her face by her tears and other bodily fluids she didn't even want to think about. Her bottom was a raging fire and each time he pulled out of her she could hear a sucking sound that had more humiliating tears falling from her eyes. The material under her pussy was drenched and she could actually smell her desire with each shuddering breath. Never had she leaked from so many embarrassing places at once, yet all she could think about was the orgasm dangling just out of her grasp.

  "Marcus," she croaked out, her hands folded above her head, as if in prayer.

  "What is it, Susan?" he asked casually, as though his fingers were not slowly tormenting her to madness.

  "Please," she pleaded. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be sorry, my dear. You have nothing to apologize for," he replied removing his fingers and grasping her ass in his huge hand. "I love every minute of having your beautiful red ass over my lap with your sweet little bottom hole plugged. Granted it's a very small plug, but we'll progress from here, you needn't worry about that. By the time your contract expires you'll be able to take my cock deep in your bottom. Maybe by then I will plug your pussy with a dildo and switch things around," he continued, patting her bottom and giving the plug a twirl.

  Susan struggled to smother her moan of pleasure but was helpless to stem the flood of moisture that coated her thighs. When his fingers returned to her, she arched her bottom, hoping for more.

  Marcus honored her silent request until he felt her first spasm and quickly stopped his attentions to her utter amazement. While he never allowed her to bring herself off, he also had never left her unsatisfied. This was something new and not at all welcome.

  "Please Marcus, don't stop," she panted. "I need…"

  "I know very well what you need, my dear," he replied, pulling her up and sitting her on his lap without an ounce of concern for the condition of her bottom. "If you're a good girl for the remainder of the evening, you may get it," he continued, rising from the couch and standing her on her feet. His strong hands gripped her shoulders for several minutes, keeping her from moving into his arms for comfort and steadying her at the same time. She really was the most pathetic looking, soundly spanked little thing he'd seen in a long time and he almost weakened and took her into his arms. Instead he pulled a handful of tissues from the box on the end table and wiped her nose, instructing her to blow. When she complied, he picked up her robe and slid it up her arms. "I want you to go upstairs and wait for me," he commanded, pulling the garment closed and tying the sash. "I'll be up shortly."

  "But aren't you going to…?" she began, her eyes wide. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "I mean are you going to leave this thing…?"

  Marcus smiled. "Am I going to take out the plug?"

  "Yes," Susan whispered, feeling weak with fear and desire.

  "No, not yet," he replied. "Since it's all about money with you, tonight you'll earn it, and don't even think about disobeying me."

  "But it hurts," she cried, shifting from one foot to the other, conscious of her sticky thighs and burning butt.

  "What hurts? The plug, your lovely hot bottom or this?" he asked as he
slipped his finger inside the robe and parted her lower lips, stroking her clit firmly.

  Susan moaned low in her throat and sought his shoulders for support as she trembled. Her head dropped back and her eyes closed as he again brought her to within seconds of climaxing.

  "That's what I thought," he said firmly, turning her around and giving her a sharp swat on her already flaming backside. "Now get upstairs. I'll try to make you a little more comfortable when I get there," he assured her in a tone that promised just the opposite.

  It was a long walk through the huge house and up the stairs to their room, especially with each step reminding her there was an intruder in her ass that would likely be there for a while. Her satin robe was no protection from his hard hand, and her bottom testified that it wouldn't take much to have her sobbing again. When would she ever learn to keep her damn mouth shut? Of course she had feelings for Marcus. From the first moment she saw him, she couldn't get him out of her mind. He was gorgeous and funny and smart. He was also the most incredible lover she'd ever had, spankings and all. Besides that fact that he had her freak flag flying at full staff, what was she afraid of?

  Granted, he was the one in control of their relationship, but she'd given that up freely, well not exactly freely. He was paying plenty of money for it, but she would have surrendered to him anyway, right? If he were a working class, regular guy living from paycheck to paycheck, would she be following his orders like this? Probably not, she admitted. But things with Marcus happened in a way she couldn't really compare to a normal relationship. Theirs was so much more complicated.

  It was supposed to be a business arrangement. A sexy, profitable, luxurious break from the life of struggle and degradation she'd known. How was she supposed to know he would want to keep her, for Pete's sake? And even if she were falling for him, how long would he continue to want her, another year or two? It wasn't like he'd mentioned anything permanent. Nope, she thought, snapping her fingers in disgust, just like that he was "keeping" her. Well, hell, you kept a pet or a favorite sports car, not a woman.

  Susan went into the bathroom to clean up and was shocked at her reflection. She really was a sorry-looking mess. As a rule, she was glowing and damn near purring after spending time in Marcus's arms. Most of the spankings he administered to her vulnerable bottom were more erotic than truly painful. Tonight's had been different and much more serious. Not as painful as the unfortunate lake incident, as she'd come to call it, but still painful as her glowing butt could attest to. He was angry, and hurt she admitted to herself. In reality this was the very first time he'd treated her as an object, a paid employee there for his personal gratification and nothing else, but she pushed him. Now that she thought about it she realized she frequently tried to push his buttons and he was a master of control. He could probably discipline her several times a day for her mouth alone and be justified, but he didn't. The real question was why?

  Why would a man like Marcus, an admitted dominant and lover of all things related to blistering her ass, take so much bullshit from her and why did she feel the need to antagonize him? Why would looking at her own crimson butt in the mirror, the pink plug peaking from between her cheeks, produce a need so piercing that her freshly washed thighs were once again flooded with her juices?

  Because she loved it! All of it! The control, the discipline, and the limits he set for her behavior. She loved the skirmishes she always lost and the battle of wits she mostly broke even on. She loved that he could make her and take her in a way that left them both exhausted and so sexually sated they didn't need words to communicate their feelings. Basically, she loved him, she thought, watching the color drain from her face. He could keep her if he chose, forever and for free. Her green eyes were wide with shock. How the fuck had she let this happen? She, Susan Shaughnessy, who had always done exactly as she pleased, was in love with a man who wouldn't let her eat fucking Cheetos? It was absurd, ridiculous and heartbreakingly true. Oh, this was not going to turn out well, she just knew it!

  Chapter Ten

  Marcus paced his office, running his hand through his hair until it stood on end. There was a slightly wild look in his eyes that would have terrified a casual observer. His five o'clock shadow had long since come and gone and for once he wasn't going to shave before he bedded her. No, in a few minutes he was going upstairs to fuck that bewitching little red head until she begged for mercy and then he was going to do it all over again.

  She was right. She wasn't a toy, had never been one to him, and he couldn't keep her, but he could make damn sure that she knew who she belonged to for now. Why couldn't she see that they were perfectly matched? Was she so obtuse she thought the rules he set for her were all about his desire to control and had nothing at all to do with his need to see that she was safe and healthy? He knew she was strong-willed. It was part of what attracted him to her in the first place. No way could he spend his life with a mousy little woman who said yes sir and no sir to him for eternity. He wanted a woman who challenged him, respectfully yes, but someone who had an opinion and wasn't afraid to voice it. He wanted someone bright and spirited, and a bit of defiance now and then wouldn't be hard to take. Was he going to spank her frequently? Hell yes, but they wouldn't be harsh unless it was called for.

  So she was frightened by the dark desires he brought out in her, tough! He could take her to places that made his fetish look downright angelic. As far as her having to explain those needs to another man, well that just wasn't going to happen, ever. Tonight he was going to show her the difference between being his employee and his woman. Hopefully she would never confuse the two again. Shutting off the light, he activated the security system and headed upstairs.

  Marcus entered the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Undressing, he heard water running in the bathroom as he tossed his clothes to the floor and waited. Going to his dresser he pulled out several items and placed them on the bed, making sure they were clearly visible. He pulled two large pillows from the shelf in the closet and placed them at the edge of the high mattress, in the middle of the bed. Grinning, he rubbed his hands together. If this doesn't have her knees shaking nothing will, he thought, eyeing the handcuffs, blindfold and assorted toys. There were several bottles of lubricants, including one that ensured a satisfying burn, as well as a pair of nipple clamps that looked fierce. In reality, every item there was extremely well crafted and made to look much harsher than it was. The handcuffs wouldn't leave a single mark on her wrists no matter how hard she struggled, and the clamps were lined with silicone and adjustable for a firm, yet tender, pinch. He almost laughed out loud when she opened the bathroom door and quietly inched her way into the room. Her back was to the dresser, her hands gripping the edge as her eyes frantically traveled between the bed and his cool blue eyes.

  "Marcus," she began, biting her lower lip. "You can't be serious?"

  "As a heart attack," he replied smoothly. "Oh, I forgot something," he said as he continued walking to the dresser and picking up her new hairbrush. He'd bought it for her as a joke when they came across it in the antique shop. The brush was solid mahogany, the back worn to a satin sheen that Marcus suggested had been achieved from frequent applications to a naughty backside.

  Susan immediately insisted that she didn't want it and the price was outrageous, but he bought it anyway, enjoying her pink cheeks as he handed it to the proprietor with a wink. Now he was placing it on the bed.

  "Come here Susan," he ordered with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

  "I don't think so," she replied, working her way closer to the door.

  "Are you afraid of me?" he asked curiously. Despite her panicked expression, he seriously doubted his Red was afraid of anything, especially him.

  "No," she insisted with a snort, her chin in the air. "Don't go getting all puffed up with testosterone Marcus. When push comes to shove, I can take care of myself."

  "Then come here," he repeated firmly. She was quivering and if he believed for a moment it wa
s genuine fear he would have crossed the room and taken her in his arms immediately, but it wasn't fear and they both knew it. It was need.

  Stiffening her back, Susan tossed her hair behind her shoulders, let her robe slip to the floor and walked to him. Her green eyes never left his face as each step brought her closer to the unknown. He was naked and unashamed, his body and his unspoken challenge irresistible.

  She forced herself to move slowly, each small step a bond he secured her with that had nothing to do with the restraints on the bed. It wasn't about the money; she knew that now, at least on her end. There was no possible way she could deny this man, nothing she could do to protect her heart. It was much too late for that. Somehow, some way, he had stormed his way past all her defenses. Who knew spankings and rules could be just as effective as loving words and gentle caresses? Not that Marcus didn't use both freely; he did. The money was the catalyst, but it wasn't what made her cross that room and stand before him, waiting.

  Marcus held her gaze and swallowed his sigh of relief. Gently he stoked the curve of her cheek, the dip of her collarbone, the crest of her breast as he fought to keep his stern expression. She'd come to him. For a second he didn't think she would, but she did and his heart swelled with pride, as though he was somehow responsible for her strength. Quickly he picked up the blindfold and slipped it over her head, lest she see the love and admiration in his eyes. Now was not the time to weaken. He had a point to make and he would make it. By morning she would want her lover back and not her boss.