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Mr. Smith's Whip [Taboo Wishes]
by Brynn Paulin
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica/Romance
Description: Librarian Olivia McKinnion's life rarely changes as she oversees the Brandywine community library and archives, but when Colin Smith takes up residence to research his latest book, everything changes. She's heard whispers of Mr. Smith's whip and his dominant ways--whispers that make her tremble with need for her secret wishes to be fulfilled. And more than anything, she wants Colin to show her the darker side of sex, bent over his knee and begging for more.
eBook Publisher: Resplendence Publishing, LLC, 2011 March
eBookwise Release Date: May 2011

58 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats:
Words: 33955 Reading time: 97-135 min.

Olivia McKinnion flinched with pleasure at the sting of leather across her ass. Her fingers clenched on weathered copies of Moby Dick and The Scarlet Letter as she bent over two stacks of books and fought to maintain her balance to please her Master as he disciplined her.
A moan crept past her lips as the belt slapped across her flesh once more, tearing a rush of arousal from her. Cream flooded her pussy, and sharp tingles crawled up her spine.
More... She needed more.
Her blouse gaped open as she bent, arms braced on the aged volumes of classics, legs spread to open her to the man behind her. She didn't know her infraction, and she didn't really care.
He'd pulled her breasts from their bra cups. They tingled in the cool air as they were pushed up by the fabric and swayed with each smack of his belt. Her nipples knotted into tight points. She longed for his mouth on them or even the sensation of his fingers, pulling and twisting them until she cried out with an orgasm she was unable to keep inside.
The coarse fabric of his pants brushed her heated behind as he leaned close, his breath hot on her ear. "You like that, Livvy? This is how I punish bad girls like you."
"Yes, more...please, Colin...Sir..."
"Excuse me?"
Olivia's eyes blinked open at the clipped British voice that was far more distinct than the faint voice in her reverie. She stared at the subject of her fantasy, Colin Smith, author-in-residence. At least, for now, while he did research.
As usual, he wore a white, buttoned-down shirt, opened a few buttons at the collar and showing the white T-shirt he wore beneath. Tailored, khaki trousers hugged muscular thighs and slim hips. His body was bisected by the narrow, black-leather belt about which she'd just daydreamed. Brown hair with just the slightest hint of red curled over his forehead. His inquisitive chocolate-brown eyes seemed to observe everything, and heat flushed through her. She had an uncomfortable feeling he knew exactly what he'd interrupted.
"Are you unwell?" he asked, quietly. "It sounded as if you," his eyes grew more intent, "moaned."
He did know.
Her cheeks burned, and she knew she was blushing. Damn, telltale body. How loud had she been? The library was quiet as a tomb today, and she feared any sound she'd made would have traveled like a shockwave across the silence.
"I...I'm fine. Can I...can I help you, Mr. Smith?"
He stared at her, assessing her with his probing gaze.
"No," he replied slowly. "I don't think you can."
Disappointment chilled her. Why did she feel as if she'd just failed the Master of her fantasy? He hadn't even given her a chance--
Olivia, this is stupid. Stop it. He was just a library patron, not a Dom. Not a man to wrench emotions from her and manipulate and punish her body to achieve both their desires.
Heat flooded her, and she clenched her thighs together beneath the desk. She summoned a polite smile. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you."
He gave a slight nod then turned away, giving her a view of his tight rear. What would it look like cupped by a pair of worn jeans? Or better, naked?
To her surprise, he pivoted and returned to her desk. His groin rested right in her line of vision. She closed her eyes against her inappropriate desire.
Pasting a bland, friendly expression on her face, she met his gaze. "Yes?"
"I need you to come to my research room."
"Is something wrong?"
He studied her silently, his expression clearly disapproving. Olivia immediately decided no one questioned him. He gave commands and they were complied with--that was the impression she'd gotten up until now. This exchange confirmed her belief. Especially, when he turned away without answering and walked toward the research rooms on the other side of the floor. He disappeared behind a bank of tall shelves that blocked the four small chambers the library rented out to researchers and others who needed a quiet space to work.
She rose as he left her sight. If something was amiss, it was her job to deal with it. Management wouldn't appreciate her neglecting a patron for any reason.
Her knees wobbled as she followed his path. Damn, that had been a vivid fantasy. She hoped she could resurrect it when she arrived home and had plenty of time to indulge her naughty thoughts.
He waited just inside the room when she rounded the corner. Still, he said nothing when she entered. To her surprise, he closed the door behind her and turned the lock.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you know about BDSM?" he countered.
"A little," she blurted before she could stop the words. Colin had a commanding presence she couldn't deny. In fact, she found herself naturally complying whenever he was around. Before, she'd attributed it to her job. Now, like dawn breaking the horizon and threading light into the pitch, she knew.
Mr. Smith was a Dom.
"Are you in the scene?"
"I shouldn't be talking to you about this," she answered stubbornly.
He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his broad chest. Suddenly, he appeared massive. "Yes. You should. I require it of you. Now, are you in the scene?"
She bit her lip. What the hell was happening here? Her eyes darted to the doorknob, but he blocked the way.
"Olivia," he commanded, and she started.
She shook her head. "Just experimentation."
Why was she telling him this? It was personal information and none of his business. Yet, as he stood there, he brooked no argument, and something deep inside her being responded to his dominant nature. That coupled with her attraction would probably lead her to answer any question he posed.
It grated against her very nature. Olivia was a highly private person, even considered shy by some. She wasn't. She was merely reserved. Observant. Quiet. Especially when she was out of her element. But Colin's powerful personality offered strange comfort and a feeling of safety.
It didn't surprise her. For the past few months, he'd been nearby when she'd had to deal with the occasional unruly young adult. He'd never stepped in, but she'd known he would if called upon. It was as if he had a sixth sense about when she might need him. And more often than not, she found him leaving the library when she did. Stating that it was common courtesy from a man, he'd always walked her to her car, his hand at her elbow or at her back, before going to his own vehicle.
Her friends thought it strange, but she didn't. He'd never tried anything. Every gesture was perfunctory with no suggestion of sexual undertone. By him anyway. Every time he touched her, or even stood near, her pulse throbbed and she felt an electric zing across her core.
"Experimentation?" he asked. "With whom?"
"My ex-boyfriend."
"He was a Dom?"
She let out a derisive breath. "No. He tried, but he would rather be tied up than tie anyone."
He nodded with understanding. "And are you with anyone now?"
"Mr. Smith," she tried. "This is really inappropriate--"
"What is inappropriate," he cut in, "is your insubordinate behavior. You don't have a Dom, do you?"
He stepped closer, and she trembled at the heat that crossed the small space. She tried to control her aroused breathing, but she knew he could tell. She was like a puppy quivering for its master's attention. Could Colin be...could he be hers?
"No," she whispered. "After I broke up with him, I dated a few men, but there was none of that, um, BDSM. I've thought about it, but...there was never anyone who seemed like they were into it."
"Hmm," he said and nodded again. "There are places you can go--"
"No," she interrupted, finding herself again. "I'd have to trust whoever it was. And if I went to a club or something, I might run into something bad. Someone just mean. I don't want that. I might like some pain, but I don't want to be hurt and humiliated." Her eyes went wide and she pressed her hand over her mouth. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that." She turned toward the door. "I should go."
While I still have a shred of dignity. How on earth would she face him next time she saw him?
Colin stepped into her path. His hands smoothed up and down her arms, gentling her as if she were a baby bird. He stared into her eyes.
"Be still," he said kindly yet with clear command.
Mesmerized by the connection he'd wrought between them, she nodded.
"When you were experimenting, what did you do?" he asked.
She gave a small shrug. "Amateur stuff. Some bondage. Pain play. Basic things."
"And you liked it," he observed.
She nodded.
He backed away then circled her. "Tell me about this pain play. What did you do?"
Her tongue darted over her bottom lip. Having read enough about D/s, she looked straight ahead rather than following his movements. She'd thought about a scene like this, envisioned it in her late-night fantasies while she touched herself and wished for a real man.
"Olivia," he prompted gently.
"Spanking, nipple clips..." she supplied. "Using wax. Being rough. We had a flogger. Sometimes he'd use a belt. Stuff like that."
There was silence as he stood behind her. "You said my name," he finally said. "Before I interrupted your daydream. You said my name."
Oh no. Her head dipped forward. "I'm sorry."
He circled to her front then lifted her chin with two fingers. "Don't be. You gave me an invitation. I've been waiting. Trying to decide...if you were in the scene or if you'd be receptive. I tend to be very careful and choose judiciously." His eyes grew intense as he assessed her again. She wondered if he was deciding what to do with her. His head tilted slightly sideways. "You're a strong woman."
She nodded. "Mostly."
"But I could see it, that submissive side of you. You hide it well."
"Thank you?"
Colin chuckled. "Olivia," he growled, capturing her full attention. He leaned into her. "I want you on your knees. Not figuratively. Physically. Submissively. I want you on your knees. Now."
Her heart thudded in her throat, and she glanced down at her slim skirt and high heels. Kneeling in it would be nearly impossible without hiking it up.
"In this?" she whispered.
The imperious eyebrow rose. "Figure it out, Olivia."
He kept saying her name in that very British accent. And she was willing to do just about anything for her when he said it. Okay. She could do this. Squatting down as she would to pick up a book, she maneuvered her body close to the ground then swung a leg down beneath her. The other followed, and she was kneeling upright. It wasn't graceful, but her skirt and modesty remained in place.
Once more, she questioned her sanity. What the hell was she doing? She should be out at her desk, watching over the library's reference archives. She certainly shouldn't be on the floor in front of one of the patrons, taking his commands like a puppet.
"You're thinking too much," he chided. "Let me guess. What am I doing? Why am I doing this? Why am I listening to him?" He paused. "Am I right?"
"Pretty much," she mumbled.
"You're discovering what you've always wanted," he answered, his deep voice rumbling over her. "You sense I can show you what you've always wanted to know. You feel it in your pussy--which I bet is creamy with desire. You want this. You know I'm the right one for it. We've been heading here for months."
"No..."
"I won't tolerate lying."
She sighed, and her head tipped forward.
"Have you read about the scene?" he asked. "Perhaps watched videos?"
"Just read."
"Then answer me, from your reading knowledge. Is this the position I want?"
She knew it wasn't. He wanted her sitting on her heels, her knees apart. And there was no way like this. Forgetting the oddity of the situation, forgetting where they were, forgetting everything but pleasing him and experiencing what she'd fantasized about, she focused on this moment and his desires. What he wanted was triggering illicit pleasure inside her. Tension ran thickly between them and every moment ratcheted up her arousal and the stark need pummeling through her.
Fisting her hands in her skirt, she shifted until her knees were free.
"More," he directed, even as she continued to move.
Soon her skirt was at her thighs. She sat back on her heels. Her legs parted, further hiking up her skirt and exposing far more than she'd ever imagined she'd show Mr. Smith. Remembering the last BDSM book she'd read--easy since it had been last night and had probably triggered her fantasy--she placed her arms behind her and crossed her wrists at the small of her back. She kept her head bowed. She bit her lip as she focused on her thighs and her skirt that was bunched so high up that the lace tops of her stockings showed, and he could likely see her red silk panties.
"So...someone has a secret beneath her stuffy librarian clothes," he commented. His toe of his black leather shoe traced the line of her stockings. "These are nice. I look forward to seeing them without the skirt and blouse hiding so much of you."
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Thank you, Mr. Smith," he countered. "When we are in a scene, you will call me Mr. Smith or Sir. Understood?"
"Yes, Mr. Smith." She called him that all the time, outside this room. Never again would it have the same meaning. Just working with him to find needed research would get her wet. Who was she kidding? It already did.
She took a shuddery breath, laced with excitement. This was really happening. She was with a man who would teach her about the D/s lifestyle. A man she liked and trusted.
"And when you are in this room and the door is closed, we are in a scene. Understood?"
"Yes, Mr. Smith." Anything you want, Mr. Smith. Bend me over a table and fuck me, Mr. Smith. Let me show you how compliant I can be, Mr. Smith.
"When I call you into this room, you will close the door and immediately assume this position. No excuses."
"Yes, Mr. Smith."
"That is..." He reached down and lifted her chin so she was looking at him. Their eyes connected, and she saw the intensity that seared her soul whenever she encountered it. No man--no person--she'd ever met had such power in his gaze. "That is, if you want to continue and explore this."
She blinked at him. Hadn't she already made that decision? She was on her knees before him and following his orders.
"Moment of truth, Livvy," he said, using the pet name she'd imagined he'd call her but that no one--no one--in her life ever had. "Say you don't want this, and we forget everything. This is your one chance. I will not offer you this again."
Everything inside Olivia screamed for her to say no. She needed to get up and walk out of here and never look back. She couldn't do this. She couldn't let Colin command her. This was an inappropriate interaction between librarian and patron.
Her fingernails bit into the sides of her hands as she clenched them together. This could cost her the job she'd held for four years.
But you want it, a small voice whispered inside her. Can you live with the regret? The curiosity?
She couldn't.
"Yes, I want this, Mr. Smith," she replied. She nodded. "I want this."
Suddenly, a world of unknown experiences yawned before her. What would be next?
"Very good."
She bowed her head once more, happy with the approval in his voice. She'd pleased him. Would he reward her somehow? Give her another task? She eyed his fly through her lashes. She knew what she'd like to do. Now that they'd crossed this barrier of yes or no, now that she'd dived in and accepted her exploration into Colin's lifestyle, taking his cock didn't seem beyond the realm of acceptable behavior. They could do anything--okay, they probably shouldn't do it here, but she didn't feel restrained. Her shock had dissipated, leaving her with anticipation of his next move. And it would be his. He was in control.
To her surprise, he walked away. She heard his chair scrape backward on the tile then he sat and pushed close to the table but said nothing. She remained still. What should she do? Did he mean for her to leave? To wait?
Her pussy spasmed as she thought of him watching her. Just the act of kneeling here for him like his own personal statue aroused her. Even the bite of the hard tile beneath her calves added to her excitement level.
The quiet stretched on. She struggled to breathe calmly as she anticipated what would happen. The tick of the clock was loud in the silence.
"You may go," he finally said.
Go?
She barely restrained the surprised "what" that came to her lips. She pressed her mouth shut to keep in her response. Tension ran through her body as it protested his dismissal. This was it? Had she done something wrong? Had he been playing with her? Seeing how far she'd go?
With little grace and keeping her face from him, she struggled to her feet and started to straighten her skirt.
"Take off your panties, and give them to me," he instructed suddenly.
She glanced at him, but his attention was on his papers. He scanned them and jotted in a notebook as if he'd never said a thing. Her eyes narrowed. Sensibility told her to ignore the order, but something else made her consider obeying him. She let out a silent sigh. She'd give him whatever the hell he wanted. In for a penny and all that...
At least for now.
Reaching beneath her skirt, she grasped the red silk scrap then shimmied them down her thighs.
"Leave on your shoes," he added quietly. Another glance showed his attention no more on her than it had been before.
She stumbled a little but managed to get off the garment and step free without tripping. It certainly wasn't her most graceful moment, and if there'd been a window in the room, she would have showed her bare ass to the world. But not to Colin. He couldn't be bothered to look. For several brief moments, she considered walking out without giving him what he wanted.
Anger pushed through her. He was sending her away. He was doing nothing. He'd made her kneel there, show herself, and now she could go? Fine. Jerk. She'd give him what he wanted and give him a cheap thrill and ignore him until...until the end of time.
Fisting the silk in her hand, she straightened her skirt. The gray wool taunted her bare ass, reminding her she was now sans underwear. Despite her ire, a swell of cream descended to her folds and reminded her she could enjoy sensual delights without Mr. Smith and his commands.
She marched to the table where he pored over a tome on ancient Rome and held out her hand to give him "the prize". He didn't look up or react. She was tempted to whip them at his head. Scowling, she set them on the table then stalked away. She half expected him to say something as she unlocked then turned the doorknob, but he didn't.
Fine.
Just fine.
It took everything in her not to slam the door with all her strength and announce to the entire library exactly how pissed off she was at Mr. Smith.
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