The Accidental Harem

Book 0: The Reluctant Master Trilogy

by Bertram Fox

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Rose is in love with her handsome young lawyer, and hates to have him learn about her fantasies of being bound and tortured into submission. But when she find him spanking his secretary over the desk, it seems they might have more in common than she thought. And when she learns that they're actually master and slave, she can dream that he might have room in his life for another. As the three of them work together to save her from her dangerous husband, friendship grows into affection ... but will the Reluctant Master want to trade up to a harem?

Release date: January 16, 2014

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 73

Sample

Chapter One

‘I’ve sent the letter on the Hungerford case to your files. Tidy it up, scan those witness statements and attach them, and print it for the DX. Have Mrs Bulmer’s papers on my desk in time for her appointment.’

The firm of Sarlow & Partners was old-fashioned enough to run to a secretary for each lawyer, and Larry Smith, their youngest partner, to whom they already referred as their rising star, fully appreciated it. He admired the young woman with the handful of papers, as she stood hesitating in front of his desk, with a frankness that would have been offensive in a less charming man.

Another woman would have called her fat: to a man’s eyes she was pleasingly curvy, in a snug blouse and short skirt, her long auburn hair tied back in a swaying ponytail. When he didn’t dismiss her she said, ‘Is that all, Mr Smith?’

‘No, it’s not.’ He held up a typed page spotted with red pen underlinings and circles. ‘This is quite unacceptable, you still haven’t improved. I’m going to have to do something about it.’

She caught her breath, and her face flushed. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I’ll try harder.’ Without prompting, she moved around to the side of his desk, where he had put a box file conveniently by the edge, and bent forward to lie across behind the computer screen. When she settled her hips onto the box her toes barely touched the floor, her plump behind lifted higher than her head. She reached back and hitched up her skirt to expose a small triangle of black lace between her soft white curves.

Larry grasped the waistband of her briefs and drew them with luxurious slowness down below the fold of her buttocks. His right hand kneaded and stroked her rump in happy anticipation, lifted, and dropped with a ringing crack.

He swung his hand with delight, savouring the bounce of each hard impact, the hot-pink prints that were merging into a uniform blush, his victim’s gasps and squirmings. Amazing to think that a few months ago he’d despised men who hit women, and reckoned that this talk of BDSM was just a cover for abuse. And now he was spanking a lovely woman sore and loving it; and judging by her wriggling hips and the scent of arousal wafted up by his slapping palm, she was enjoying it too. ‘What’s all this, slut? This is supposed to be punishment.’

‘Sorry, sir,’ she panted. ‘It’s just, I love that movie so much, I quote it to people to prove subs are strong. And that scene where she makes the bed neatly, then puts a dead bug on the pillow – that’s perfect service. Take good care of Master, but give him something to punish you for.’

‘If you’re thinking about films, I obviously haven’t got your attention.’ He picked up a wooden ruler. ‘Now, this may sting.’

‘Oh yes, please, sir!’

For weeks, Rose Bulmer had enjoyed her appointments at Sarlow & Partners, even though the business she had to deal with there was a bad-tempered divorce. Mr Smith was young and handsome, with an athlete’s figure in an elegant business suit, and he looked at her in a way that made her heart turn over. He took charge of things with a confidence that made her feel nothing could go wrong. She had begun to enliven her visits with fantasies of what might happen when her business was complete and she was single again.

He was only a few years younger than she – well, five or six – and surely intelligent enough to appreciate the qualities of an older woman. She was still good looking, and kept herself fit and slim at an age when the Caribbean side of her heritage would have made it easy to pile on weight; slimmer than that blowzy redhead he was using for a secretary these days. She had begun to calculate what was the soonest she could reasonably ask him out to dinner.

And now … now she would have to find the courage to tell him something that would ruin it all. He wouldn’t laugh, he was far too professional for that, and he was probably too enlightened to think she was some sort of crazy. But he’d know she was … well, strange, perverted, and that would be the end of it. They would finish their business professionally, impersonally, and she would be very glad that she would never see him again.

The receptionist at the entrance made as if to wave her to the waiting room; she was half an hour early, but the need to get this interview out of the way was too urgent. Rose hurried up the stairs to the well-known door and pushed through, and since there was no secretary to stop her, carried on through the door to the inner office – and stopped, thunderstruck.

The secretary who hadn’t been at her desk was bent over Mr Smith’s, her skirt above her waist and her knickers around her knees. Her bare behind was incandescent scarlet, with traces of handprints overlaid with straight stripes from the ruler which Mr Smith was just raising shoulder high, and the scent of her arousal filled the room.

After a moment of mutually stunned immobility he lowered the ruler and said, ‘Ms Posting, did you not lock the door?’ His bright, amiable face showed only the mildest concern.

‘You didn’t tell me to, Mr Smith,’ she replied with equal composure. ‘Good morning, Mrs Bulmer, we’ll be with you in a minute.’

Rose broke from her fascination with the impossible scene, and whirled and ran.

As far as the outer office door she was running with no idea except to get away. Then the thought of passing the receptionist again – did she know, were they all in on it? – was unbearable, and she dived the other way down the passage to the toilet. She sank down on the seat and shook with tears. It was dirty, sick … exciting? That thought was even worse.

There was a gentle tapping at the door. ‘Mrs Bulmer? Please?’ The door which she had been too distracted to bolt cautiously opened, and the secretary eased herself in; for a plump girl she moved gracefully. She crouched beside Rose. ‘Mrs Bulmer, I’m sorry. I’d say it’s not how it looks, but quite a lot of it is. But one thing, I’m not actually Mr Smith’s secretary, I’m his fiancée.’ A day ago, the news that Mr Smith was engaged would have been devastating. Now it was just one more boulder added to the pile that was crushing her heart. ‘I’m a writer, and when Larry’s – Mr Smith’s – secretary went sick, the firm let me come in so I could research an article about office staff. Don’t tell the others, I’m supposed to be just a temp. And the spanking … well, it’s something we do a lot.’ She smiled fondly. ‘It was naughty of him to do it in the office, but it was such fun … I’m so sorry you had such a shock.’

‘That’s all right.’ Rose pulled herself together and blotted her eyes with a handful of paper, mindful not to damage her mascara. I am a businesswoman, she told herself; I can handle this. ‘As a matter of fact, it’s probably lucky that this happened.’

Five minutes later, she was sitting in the comfortable client’s chair by Mr Smith’s desk, while he leant back in his seat as he usually did while discussing her case, his friendly smile showing not a trace of embarrassment. The only sign that this was n. . .