Taming Megan(3)

By: Natasha Knight

He slipped his suit jacket on and bent down to take her face into his hand. He tilted it up and planted a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll talk before, during and after punishment. Just be ready exactly as I said, is that clear?”

She nodded, dropping her gaze to her lap.

“Meg?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” she managed, still unable to meet his gaze.

Chapter Two

Surely he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t take her over his knee and spank her, would he? He had done so playfully during sex and she had liked that but this would be different. This would be a spanking for punishment. Not to mention the way he expected to find her when he walked into the house.

Megan pulled on her yoga pants and forced her thick blond curls into a ponytail.

Naked but for her panties and standing in the corner, waiting for him.

“Oh my God!”

She couldn’t think about that. Not now. She’d make him his favorite dinner tonight: lasagna. He’d smell it when he walked in the door and forget all about what he had said. Maybe he would spank her as foreplay but he would forget about punishing her once he saw how she was trying to make it up to him.

She grabbed her purse, keys and yoga mat and headed out. She was glad the bakery was closed today. There was no way she would be able to get through a full day of work without Anna catching on to her mood and she couldn’t imagine explaining this part of their relationship to her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

The studio was a ten-minute drive from home. She would probably feel better after sweating it out in a hot class. She’d then go to the grocery store, get what she needed and call him when she was back. He couldn’t be serious. It was just too… old-fashioned. Besides, she was an adult. He couldn’t make her stand with her nose in a corner and he certainly wouldn’t take her over his knee. He couldn’t have meant it.

* * *

By the time the lasagna was in the oven and Megan had set the table for dinner, it was almost four o’clock. The yoga class had been a good idea; the effects of her hangover were all but gone. She still felt slightly nauseous but she wasn’t sure if that wasn’t more dread than anything else. She went into Jake’s study and looked at the corner he expected to find her in and her body shuddered with a sudden chill. She picked up the phone on his desk and dialed his cell phone.

“Hi honey,” came his voice. “I’m just in a meeting, can I call you back?”

“Jake, I just have a quick question. I just…”

“Can this wait?” he asked.

“You weren’t serious, were you? I mean about… what we talked about this morning.”

She heard him exhale and excuse himself from his meeting. More guilt to add on to her already sinking feeling.

“Megan, I meant exactly what I said. Do you need me to repeat the instructions? Have you forgotten any particulars? I’m not exactly in a private place at the moment.”

“I’m sorry, Jake. I…”

“I’ll be home in an hour. Get yourself ready and in the corner by 4:30.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“I’d suggest you try real hard, Meg. I’ve got to run, people are waiting on me.”


“Meg?” he asked.


“It’s just me, just us, ok?”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “Thanks.”

“Go get ready for me, baby. See you in an hour.”


Megan hung up the phone but remained where she was, staring at that damned white wall. She looked at the clock; it was just a little after four. She checked on the lasagna, set the timer for the oven to switch off in half an hour and went back into the study to draw all the blinds before sitting on the couch. At twenty-five minutes past the hour, she stood and began to strip off her clothes, taking care to fold everything and make a neat pile on the couch. When she was down to her panties, a pair of lacy pink boy shorts, she stopped, glancing at the mirror over his desk, realizing she’d be able to see herself standing there like a naughty child with her nose to the wall if she cared to turn back to look at her reflection.