by R.E. Hargrave
Genre: BDSM Erotica (short story)
By day, Brooklyn Crenshaw goes to work and does her job. She doesn’t make waves, simply follows orders and stays off the radar. Oh, and she might have a crush on WILLIAM K. BAXTER from across the hall. Each time she passes his office—with his polished name plate on the window—her gut clenches with desire at the sight of him. But he never looks up, can’t possibly know who she is, and even if he did, her needs would send him running. Because they always ran.
At night, in private, she turns on her laptop so that her Sir can turn her on. Brooklyn’s never seen His face, but she knows His voice and the magic of His words. The arrangement works for her. Mostly.
As the office holiday party approaches, Brooklyn starts receiving Secret Santa gifts which suggest more than casual interest, Sir reveals his fondness for exhibition and voyeurism, and WILLIAM K. BAXTER finally looks up at her, and waves.
Brooklyn begins to question everything. Does she continue to follow the orders of a man who hides behind technology, but is always there, or does she take a chance on the man right in front of her who’s seen her at long last? Then there is the Secret Santa who seems to know what makes Brooklyn tick. So many decisions.
‘Tis the season… to be kinky.
Pacing a small path in her living room carpet, Brooklyn debated the merits of letting Him know about the package she’d gotten. Thankfully she’d brought it home before opening it. Inside had been a pair of shiny red Ben Wa balls and a note:
Because you give me balls of blue, here’s a Christmas set just for you.
Rereading it yet again, Brooklyn thought back to how she’d gotten to the point where it even mattered if she shared this secret with a man she only knew online. Her Sir.
When she’d first started working at Hinkmans, she’d accepted some of the offers in the breakroom to ‘grab a drink’ on a Friday. From men and women. Brooklyn had found the girl’s nights always filled with catty office gossip, and the ‘dates’ made her skin crawl, or vice versa. There’d been one date who’d had promise. They’d made it to a heated make-out session on the guy’s couch, but that went belly up when she’d pulled Tim’s tie off and put it over her eyes then asked him to spank her.
He’d called her a freak and told her to get out, that he wasn’t getting tricked into some kind of office place abuse scandal. Idiot. It was sad how misunderstood her desires were in the mainstream world.
Tired of the slimy propositions, and having given up hope the handsome guy across the hall she was interested in would approach her, she switched to playing the fraternization card to get out of accepting any offers. They’d still ask on occasion, but none of them felt right to her—and it was easy to remember the raw pain of Tim’s reaction.
She’d wanted something more.
Brooklyn just hadn’t known what until that fateful auto fill slip at work had opened her eyes. Half a year later Brooklyn no longer bothered with the chat rooms or the fetish sites. Though she’d dabbled with a couple of other Doms in the beginning, it was WillUBelong2Me who always got her blood pumping and pussy squirting. Granted, it was by her hand, but it was at His command, and as such, had earned her loyalty.
Brooklyn removed her shift and sat down at her laptop, bare as He liked her, then put through a call to his Skype. Their initial greetings done, she confessed the gift.
“Sir, I received a present today.”
“Of course you did, bunny. I let you orgasm at work.”
Brooklyn could hear the humor in his tone and smiled. One day she hoped he would turn the camera on so she could put a face to the voice. She had turned the camera on for him, after all. Though, to his point, he wanted to meet her for real and she kept refusing that. He was playing a game of wills with her, which she was letting him win.
“Thank you for that again, Sir. However, that wasn’t what I was referring to.”
“Oh? Do explain then.”
“When I returned from completing your… task,” she coughed, “there was a small package on my desk. Red, with a blue bow.”
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Domestic engineer. Author. Burgeoning editor. And quite possibly certifiable. Believing every story can shine bright with a bit of tenacious tough love, R.E. Hargrave is thorough and to the point. An international bestselling author, she takes storytelling and manuscript polishing seriously, working with her authors and on her own creations to ensure they come to life, crawling from the pages and into the reader’s soul.
Hargrave lives on the outskirts of Dallas, TX and is married to her high school sweetheart; together they are raising three children. A native ‘mutt,’ she has lived in New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Alabama, Texas, and California. She is fond of setting her stories—which range from the sweet to the paranormal, to the erotic and horrific—on location in South Carolina and Texas.