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  He knew it was a risk. Max knew it would bother him if she Laura ever thought of him as Prissy Able had - resenting his guidance when he really only had the best intentions. While aesthetically, seeing Prissy over his knee was something he never tired of, his satisfaction was secondary when it came to punishment spankings.

  The last one she got from him was for three bounced checks. He'd always impressed upon her the importance of getting money into her terminally low checking account before 2 p.m. and, more importantly, the importance of writing down all her checks so she wouldn't have a problem in the first place. But Prissy hadn't listened.

  It was a warm Wednesday afternoon when he heard her yell "Damnit!" from the foyer of her apartment and walked from the living room to find her reading the notice. He'd been irritated that she had cursed - an offense that always got her at least two hard swats over her blue jeans.

  But he knew he'd have to do much more than that when he saw her standing there looking with typical shock at the bank notice.

  Max had walked over and took it from her as she began her usual litany of excuses, which had grown to include a vast banking conspiracy against her.

  She knew even as she babbled that her stalwart boyfriend was having none of it.

  "There's no excuse for this," Max told Prissy, snatching the notice from her hand and shaking it at her. "You've been told and told but for some reason you never seem to want to improve until you're threatened with a punishment spanking."

  "Well maybe they just don't work!" Prissy had shot back and Max, and Max had felt his irritation grow at her defiance.

  "Well, maybe that means I haven't spanked you hard enough to get through to you." He'd picked her up then, bodily, and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. Prissy had squealed and wriggled as he approached her bed, but he'd ignored her, determined this time to spank some sense into her pretty blonde head.

  The bed creaked slightly when he sat down on the quilt coverlet, moving far back enough to make sure both the front and back of her body were supported. Max knew this was going to be the most serious spanking she had gotten from him and he didn't want to keep having to reposition her as she flailed. Having her body supported would help him keep from losing his grip.

  As usual, Prissy was wearing blue jeans, so Max worked his hand under her belly and deftly unsnapped them. It took a little effort to pull them down. Prissy favored tight jeans. Max usually appreciated them until it came time to spank her. Each time he wrestled to remove them he made a mental note to require looser clothing around the house. But when he saw her tight round ass outlined in denim, his resolve broke.

  Prissy struggled harder when she felt him slip her panties down to join the jeans bunched at her knees, but Max ignored her and started her spanking, bringing his hard palm down squarely across both cheeks.

  He watched the red outline of his hand blossom against her skin before adding another just below it Prissy bucked as he continued but couldn't evade the hand that came down over and over, each slap flattening the springy flesh briefly before each deepening shade of red followed in its wake.

  Max had learned how to read Prissy's "signs" during a spanking. She was the master of the fake cry, and she was so good he'd actually been fooled during a few spankings. Prissy was crying now, but he knew it wasn't genuine. She had a high pain tolerance and the fake crying meant she was hurting bad enough to want him to stop before she reached her boundaries.

  That wasn't going to happen this time.

  "Stand up," he ordered, and marched Prissy over to the corner. He knew she hated having to stand there, nose pressed into the corner with her bottom on display. But again, he told her she'd later thank him when she realized such humiliations were a deterrent to failing to balance her checkbook.

  He stood there watching Prissy for a moment.

  "I don't think you're sufficiently sorry yet," he said.

  "I am too, Max," she sniffed, but he could hear the surliness in her voice just the same.

  "Come here, Prissy." he said.

  Prissy turned and whimpered at what she saw; Max had removed his heavy leather belt and was standing there holding it in his hand.

  "Nooo!" said Prissy when she saw it, and Max smiled to herself. Now he had gotten her attention.

  "Yes," he said, grasping her arm and pulling her back to the bed. "You're going to learn, Prissy. You're going to learn that when I tell you something, I'm not telling you for my health but because I expect you to listen." He bent her over the bed. When she tried to stand back up, he pushed her down. "Don't you dare," he said.

  Prissy whimpered as Max ran his hand across her bottom. "I'm tired of playing at this, Prissy," he said. "I've been reluctant to really spank you hard because I've been reluctant to cause you any more pain than I have to, but you've left me no choice in the matter."

  When Max began to use the strap, he intended to send a message. He wasn't gentle, and brought the strap down until Prissy's fake cries dissolved into genuine screams and continuing beyond that until the fight left her and she bawled helplessly.

  She'd cried for a long time - a very long time - and there was no denying that he'd made an impression. But the outcome had not been as he'd hoped. The spanking had caused resentment, and Max realized that he had erred in not really being sure that Prissy was with the program when he'd implemented it.

  Max didn't want a similar situation with Laura. Of course, he knew he was getting ahead of himself. He didn't even know if she was interested in him. He was looking forward to finding out.

  ***

  Laura McCaffrey pulled onto the Interstate, heading west towards The Gables. In her rear view mirror she could see snow clouds hanging over the city. More than flurries would come out of those clouds.

  She glanced over to the passenger's seat, where the long box sat, white against the black upholstery.

  What kind of man collected paddles? Max Greenway didn't seem like a sadist. He seemed like a really nice guy. He'd handled the revelation about what she'd done with far more tolerance than she'd anticipated, although his solution raised a lot of questions. The errands he'd sent her on were a bit odd. The clothing, she could understand. But writing paper and a paddle?

  Laura turned on the radio. The Kinks were singing "Lola." Outside, Christmas lights twinkled merrily from the houses. Laura's heart twisted a little in her chest. How in the world was she going to buy Evan a Christmas present? The money from the Tighlmans was all slated to go to pay the gas bill, they needed groceries, her car and renter's insurance was due.

  Ahead of her, the walls of The Gables stretched out like a fortress beside the snow-dusted roadway. Laura wondered what it would be like to live behind that wall, where the counters were free of bills waiting to be paid. Hopefully, if she worked really hard someday she'd know. If she worked really hard and was open to life's lessons, perhaps one day she and Evan could live a worry free life.

  There was a different guard today, a middle-aged woman with her hair arranged in a tight bun peeking from beneath her black-brimmed cap.

  "Max Greenway," Laura said. "He's expecting me at noon."

  "Hold on." The guard went into the little office, dialed the phone and then waved Laura on as the massive gates silently swung open, admitting her over the dividing line that separated people like her from people like the Tighlmans and Max Greenway.

  The sky was so cloudy that the automatic lamplight had come on in Max Greenway's front yard. Laura noticed that spurts of flakes were dancing in its beam. The really heavy stuff was forecasted to start after midnight, and in spite of everything she was looking forward to it. Laura loved snow.

  Max Greenway answered the door wearing an off-white sweater and a pair of charcoal gray pants. Laura couldn't help but admire the way he looked. He smiled at her and she felt her heart quicken as she smiled shyly back.

  "So how was the shopping expedition?" he asked as she followed him into the living room. He'd built a fire in the fireplace, and it crackled warml
y. He'd also put up a Christmas tree in the corner. Underneath were gifts, and it bothered her that she hadn't had a chance to wrap them.

  "Okay," she said. "I got everything." She put the boxes down on the coffee table. "It looks like you've been busy," she said.

  "I like to do my own decorating," he said. "Thanks to you I've had time this year. You actually inspired me to take a day off, something I wouldn't have considered before I met you."

  Laura looked at him, puzzled. "You hired me because you were too busy to shop, and now you're taking a day off?" She smiled. "That's weird."

  "Well, I figured we needed some time to wrap up loose ends." He walked over to the couch and sat down. "Let's see how you did."

  He picked up the Nordstrom's bag and opened it. "Very nice," he said. "Why did you choose this particular style?"

  Laura blushed. "Well, whenever I don't know anything about the recipient I rely on my personal taste."

  "Good call," said Max. "It looks like you have a feminine taste in clothing."

  "Femininity is underrated," said Laura. "I believe women should be able to take care of themselves, but that doesn't mean they have to sacrifice their softness."

  "You know, I agree," he said. "But I want to be sure that outfit is just right for the woman I picked it out for. Would you mind indulging me by modeling it for me? It's hard for me to visualize how something will look without actually seeing it on real living person."

  "Well, I..." Laura stuttered, then realized she wasn't out of the woods. Max Greenway had trusted her enough to give her a second chance. The least she could do was trust him enough to comply with a simple request."

  "Sure, OK," she finally said, taking the outfit. "Do you have a place where I can change?"

  "There's a bathroom down that hallway," he said, and Laura walked in the direction in which he had pointed.

  There was a full length mirror behind the door and she caught a glimpse of herself. Even after having had a child, Laura had kept her figure. Her belly was nearly flat, her thighs and bottom still well-defined and shapely from her years as a dancer.

  She carefully folded her jeans and the soft lavender sweater she had been wearing and laid them on the counter. Then she carefully donned the whisper soft shirt and flowing skirt, delighting in how the fabrics kissed her skin.

  Laura felt strange walking out of the bathroom without her shoes, but in a way, but the drape and flow of the skirt made it look perfectly fine without them. Max Greenway was standing by the fireplace when she walked in and smiled at her. Laura found herself blushing under his gaze.

  He twirled his finger, indicating for her to spin around. "It was the perfect choice," he said.

  "Yes," Laura said, lifting the sides of the skirt and letting them gently fall back down. "Any woman would be crazy not to fall in love with this."

  Max walked towards her and picked up a pair of scissors. "Turn around," she said. Laura looked at him, a bit of uncertainty in her eyes but then turned, putting her trust in him. She felt him lift her brunette hair to the side and heard the click of the scissors biting through the plastic that held the tag. Then he lifted the hem of her shirt enough to expose the tag at her waist and clipped that too.

  He stood back and smiled. "I'm glad you like it, Laura." He paused. "Merry Christmas."

  Laura gasped and turned to look at him. "You're kidding." She said.

  "Would a guy serious enough to hire a professional shopper kid about gift giving?" he asked.

  Laura fingered the soft fabric of the skirt for a moment. Then she looked up at him. "Why?" she asked.

  "Because I like you. I liked you the minute I met you - liked your sense of humor and your dedication. My ability to gauge people is impeccable, and my people-gauge told me you were a nice person."

  Laura looked down in shame. "A nice person who spent your money," she said miserably.

  "Hey, you thought you could just go get more when you did it," he said softly, tipping her face up to look at him. "You're a good person, Laura."

  It felt natural to kiss him and she felt, and the ease of it took her by as much surprise as the kiss itself did.

  "That's nice," he said, when their lips parted. He trailed his fingers down her cheek. "You're nice."

  Laura smiled then laughed. "I wish I could think of something eloquent to say right now," she said. "But whatever comes out is going to sound like the ramblings of a silly school girl."

  "Then let me go first," Max said. "I'm 47 years old and feel like I have nothing to lose by laying my heart on the line. I'm young enough to still want a mate but old enough to be tired of the games. I'm interested in a relationship with you, Laura."

  "You don't even know me, Mr. Greenway," said Laura.

  "Max," he corrected. "We just shared our first kiss. I think it's OK for you to call me Max."

  "Max," she said. "You don't know anything about me, Max."

  He smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I know you're a good mother," he said. "I know you're dedicated to excellence. I know you have a conscience. I know you have traditional values."

  "I do," she said.

  "That's good," he said. "Because I have traditional values, too. Ultra-traditional values. I believe the man should be the guide and leader in the home and that the woman should obey. That doesn't mean that the woman is any less intelligent; it's just a nod to tradition. How do you feel about that?"

  Laura thought for a moment. "I agree," she said, and then an image of Clay flashed into her mind. "But he has to be capable of leading."

  "Yes," he does, said Max. "I want to lead you, Laura. Lead and protect you."

  Laura blushed and looked away.

  "How do you feel about that?" he asked.

  She gave a small nod, her affirmation feeling as natural as the kiss.

  "I'm glad," he said. "Because there's something you're going to need to trust me on. I'm about to clear the debt you owe me off the books, and I want you to listen to why it has to be this way if we're going to be together."

  Chapter Five

  "You're going to...to punish me?" Laura's voice was barely above a whisper as she asked the question, her gray eyes wide with disbelief.

  "Yes, Laura. If we're going to have a relationship I want to get it out of the way. Of course, you don't have to. You can just walk away if you want to. I don't want a woman who has to be forced into submitting to my requests. I don't believe in forcing unwilling subordinates. I believe in forging relationships with responsible ones."

  "Right, and if I walk away I'll never work in this town again," she said. "People like me don't have any power against people like you."

  "I'm not Mrs. Tighlman," Max Greenway said. "I don't exploit people. You ran my errands today and did everything I asked." His voice softened. "You even tried on your new outfit for me."

  Tears sprang to Laura's eyes. "I need to think about this for a moment," she said.

  "Take all the time you need," he said. "I'll leave you alone so you can think." He started to walk from the room.

  "Mr. Greenway...I mean, Max?"

  He turned. "Yes?"

  "If you...I mean, if you punish me...like you said.." Laura fidgeted. "Are you going to use that?" She gestured towards the paddle and then pulled her hand back, as if it could bite her from across the room.

  "That's why I sent you to get it, Laura." But it's up to you. "I'll be back in a little while."

  Laura didn't know how long she stood there, staring at the paddle, which lay in its box on the coffee table. The top was off. Max had removed it and pushed the paper aside when he told her he intended to clear her debt with an over-the-knee spanking. He hadn't specifically said he was going to use the paddle, but it had been obvious. Still, Laura had needed to hear it - to hear him actually say it.

  It was a difficult situation. She felt strongly attracted to Max Greenway - and not just physically. There was something about just the nearness of him that made her feel enclosed in a feeling of warmt
h and caring - as if his presence were a buffer between him and the world.

  Laura sat down, tearing her eyes away from the paddle to stare at the flickering fire. The very idea of submitting to a spanking, she knew, should repulse her. So why didn't it?

  When she thought about it, the idea of being punished appealed to her. She put her head in her hands at the silent admission. If her Women's Studies teacher knew what she was thinking she'd haul her before some feminist tribunal and strip her of her PMS rights! But Laura couldn't lie to herself. It did appeal to her. If he spanked her, it would be just like doing penance. And afterwards, the slate would be wiped clean.

  But there was the question of pain. She shuddered as she remembered the spanking Mrs. Wells had given her in front of the class. But that was so long ago, and her childhood memory probably magnified the trauma and the pain.

  Laura tried to fast forward in her mind to what it might be like, being bent over and spanked by Max Greenway. But she couldn't. The mental projection was a haze; it was too hard to believe that something like that - any of this - was real and could happen.

  But it was real, and she had to make a choice. She took a deep breath and walked to the door.

  "Max?" she called into the corridor.

  He came out of the kitchen and walked down the hall towards her. Laura admired - again - his powerful physique, his broad shoulders, his slim hips.

  "So what have you decided?" he asked.

  "I'm still not sure," she said. "I'm kind of confused." Laura bit her bottom lip, which she always did when she was choosing her words. "Is your punishing me a pre-requisite to the relationship? I mean, are you..?"

  "Am I giving you an ultimatum?" Max Greenway finished her thought as he leaned up against the door facing and crossed his arm. "Am I using the punishment as a condition of our trying out a relationship?"

  He rubbed his chin. "I had a relationship once with a high-maintenance woman who agreed to this very arrangement. Only I didn't strict with her and realized that you can always lighten up but it's virtually impossible to assert authority if you start out too permissive."