Chapter Eighteen
If there’s one thing that pisses me off, it’s censorship. People who try to restrict others from offering their opinions are worse than dirt.
My blog is private. Yes, others are free to read it. They’re free to comment on each post. I don’t expect them to agree with me, but I expect sensible comments—something more than “you’re stupid” and “your blog sucks”.
Today, someone I know well informed me I must delete my blog. Sorry. Not gonna happen. I’m not doing anything illegal. I have never mentioned names, and don’t believe I have caused harm to anyone. I’ve never blogged at work or used work computers to read my comments.
My blog has nothing to do with my job.
It’s personal.
That is all I will say on the matter. Tomorrow, it’s back to spanking.
Connor read Maggie’s post with concern. He knew it wasn’t him. Was that why she’d run off without letting him explain?
He read the post again, none the wiser. He’d tried to call her, but she wasn’t answering her phone, letting the calls go through to voice mail. When he’d tried to confront her at her apartment, there had been no reply. Connor wasn’t sure if she was there or not. Frustration simmered through his gut at his lack of success.
At least he had one way of contacting her.
Dear Bad Ass,
It sounds as if you had a shitty day. You’re right to stick up for yourself and refuse to delete your blog. It’s private and has nothing to do with your job.
If you blog at work or use work time to do your posts, then an employer might have a case against you, but from what you’ve said, your blog is a private one.
How are things going in your spanking world? Has spanking met your expectations or has the reality disappointed you?
Connor hoped she’d give her honest reaction to spanking. Maggie had said she’d enjoyed it, and he thought she’d relished the times he’d smacked her curvy bottom. When he thought about it now, he couldn’t believe how wrong he’d been to hesitate. It was wrong to close himself to new experiences without considering different angles. His encounter with Maggie had shown him that.
He didn’t think he’d ever get into the BDSM scene and didn’t want a true submissive, but having Maggie under his control in the bedroom made him hot. The resulting sex was some of the best he’d ever had, the closeness and intense satisfaction after the event living with him still.
But Maggie thought he’d lied to her about his cousin. She was avoiding him at work. Damn Sylvie and her impish sense of humor. He intended to wring her neck the next time he saw her. He cursed under his breath. Hell, he’d admire the adroit way Maggie shunned him, if it wasn’t so bloody frustrating.
And something was up with the rest of the girls. None of them were talking to each other. Julia was home now. He’d picked her up after work and driven her home. She’d wanted to tell him something, but had stopped at the last moment, bursting into tears instead. He’d done the only thing he could—holding her and murmuring soft words of nonsense until she’d cried herself dry.
Although he’d offered to stay with her, she’d said she wanted time alone. Hell, when had things become so screwed up that none of them were talking to each other? They were best friends. While his mates might rib him for hanging out with chicks, he’d known they were envious of his relationship with the women. At the start, a couple of them had accused him of being gay, but over the years, the parade of girlfriends through his life had set them straight.
Cursing softly, he returned his attention to his email.
I love spanking a woman, hearing her soft cries when I give her a surprise swat. I like seeing the marks I’ve made on her butt. I always thought I’d feel terrible guilt.
The first time, I was horrified and worried I balanced on a slippery slope. I imagined I could turn into a violent man. It hasn’t happened. I love touching and kissing a woman’s bottom. It’s so curvy and plain sexy.
It’s a way of connecting with a woman, one I would have missed if I hadn’t explored and tried new things.
Kinky Lover
Connor reread his email and hit send, watching the email flash off the screen. Damn, he had it bad. He’d never had another woman get to him like Maggie. She wasn’t even his type.
He considered that thought for a moment and smirked. Nah, Maggie was his type. It was the blondes who were cast in the wrong part.
He waited in case Maggie replied, but after ten minutes, he powered down his laptop and had drinks with his flatmates before hitting the sheets.
Maggie slept fitfully, tossing and turning, finally dragging herself out of bed just shy of six. Another Friday. At least she’d have the weekend to regroup. Her top lip curled.Mope. She showered and dressed for work. Ready way too early, she checked her blog and email before going out for breakfast.
She smiled when she noticed an email from Kinky Lover. After reading his email, she composed one of her own.
Dear Kinky Lover,
