It was ten o'clock in the morning when Penelope Hart saw the package. She and Joan were heading for their favorite table in the library's break room.

"Hey, girl, looks like somebody's got a birthday," Joan said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Penny joined her at the table, looking at the gift, wrapped in expensive silver paper. "It can't be for me. It's not my birthday."

Joan picked the box up and shook it. Something inside rattled. "It's got your name on it, Penny."

Penny grabbed the box from her, smiling. "Then hand it over, please. I wonder who would leave this here?" The box was flat and square. Her name was printed on the tag, in a crisp hand. Was it a book? As a librarian, people were always giving her books. She tore it open, to see something red nestled inside. A ping-pong paddle! How odd, she didn't play ping-pong. Lifting it out she saw that it was bigger than that and covered in red leather, a little padded. She turned it over in her hand, showing it to Joan, who giggled. "What on earth is this?"

Joan pulled a sheet of paper out of the box. "There's a verse, Penny. ‘How should librarians be spanked—hard and often! Will you cry when I paddle you? Weeping tears of sweet submission before I make you come? Soon. X.'"

Penny gasped, her cheeks flaming along with her bottom. She buttoned the top button on her prim white blouse, tucking an errant wisp of her strawberry blond hair behind her ear. How could anyone mistake her for a loose woman?

Joan grinned. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting some nookie, girlfriend?"

"I'm not...I don't." Oh lord, her panties were getting damp.

"Yeah. That's right, your last date was Paul, the thirty-second man," Joan said, sympathetically. "This means, you've got a secret admirer Penny."

"A secret sadist, you mean." She flipped the paddle over, "The stamp on the handle, says Missy's House of B & D."

"That's short for bondage and discipline, Penny. Mr. X wants to tie you up and spank you."

Penny's cheeks flamed redder, her bottom tightened, at the word spank. She ran her hand, over the smooth leather. "As if I would let him."

"I do," Joan admitted, with a giggle.

"What?" Penny gaped up at Joan, noting the twinkle in her brown eyes.

"Every year on my birthday, for sure," she said, taking a deep breath. "The first year it happened, we got in a fight. I was being a bitch."

Penny grinned, refraining from comment. Her pal could be hell on wheels.

"Anyway, Doug got really pissed, pulled me over his knee, and paddled my ass—hard. I screamed, I cried, I bit him, but he wouldn't stop, and the strangest thing happened. I started to get really turned on, you know, wet down there. Well, after he spanked me, he gave me the screwing of my life. I could hardly walk, to say nothing of sit down, the next day."

Penny blushed, she could just picture Doug, a burly auto mechanic, paddling Joan's round bottom. Now some man wanted to do the same thing to her, a little frisson of fear and excitement zinged through her. Shooting an embarrassed glance at grouchy Mrs. Bates, the returns clerk who was passing through the breakroom, she hoped they hadn't been overheard.

"Nothing but sluts and hooligans," Mrs. Bates, muttered to herself.

Penny and Joan both burst out laughing, earning a scowl from portly Mr. Powel, the day manager, who manned the check out desk out front. "Shh."

Biting their lips, they subsided.

"Oh, crap, keep it down," Joan muttered, adding nervously, "Here comes Vlad."

Tensing, Penny looked up. Victor Deveroux was indeed coming their way, here early for the board meeting, she decided. She took in his raven black hair, piercing blue eyes, and dark suit, her heart skipping a beat. He was handsome, rich, austere, and way out of her league. Joan, of course, had dubbed him Vlad the vampire. Penny saw his gaze light on the paddle she held. One of his raven dark brows arched in surprise, and she thought she saw his sensual mouth twitch in amusement. Blushing, she slipped the paddle under the table, letting it rest on her lap.

He nodded. "Ladies."

Penny felt her pulse race. Was he going to comment, or reprimand her? But he passed on by without another word. She stood up, tossing her cool cup of coffee down the drain; she didn't need the caffeine buzz today. "Back to work." She walked to her desk, and slipped the paddle into the bottom drawer, then locked it.

"So, you're not going to go to the cops with exhibit A," Joan said, with a smile.

"And say what, some anonymous sex maniac wants to spank me?" she said, trying to act casual. "I'll just forget about it."

"Right," Joan said, laughing.

* * *

The next two days went by normally. Then going to her desk after lunch, Penny saw the next package.

"Oh," Joan squealed. "Open it. I can't wait to see what he sent."

"I can," Penny said, with trepidation. Did she want to get turned on again? It seemed so naughty. Cautiously ripping off the blue wrapping paper, she opened the box, and gasped. Shiny silver handcuffs nestled inside. She pulled them out, shivering. They were lined with soft fleece. And there was something else in the box, black leather. She pulled it out—a blindfold. Her knees were rubbery, and her panties damp again. She sagged into the nearest chair, saying, "Oh, my."

Joan started reading, "‘You will call me master when we meet. You will beg sweetly for my pleasures, and my punishment. Devotedly, X'." Joan fanned her face with the letter. "Hot stuff."

"Kinky stuff," Penny protested, weakly. She wasn't that kind of girl. Heck, she'd only had sex a few times, and she hadn't found it all that satisfying. If this ‘X' thought he could turn her into some kind of sex slave, he had his work cut out for him.

"Same thing. Hey, he sent sweets for the sweet." Joan pulled a red lollypop out of the box, and handed it to her.

Penny blushed. It was shaped like an erect penis. She took the gifts, and put them in the drawer with the paddle, not that she meant to ever meet him.

* * *

The following day, near the end of their day shift, there was another package. "This is getting silly," Penny protested, opening the red box. She lifted out a silver colored metal chain, with silver clips on either end. It was heavy enough to be real silver. She looked at Joan for clarification.

"Nipple clips," Joan whispered, so Mrs. Bates wouldn't hear. She took it from Penny, and opened one clasp. He gets your nips nice and hard, then he clamps these babies onto 'em. The chain adds weight, tugging at your tortured nips."

Penny gasped, fascinated. Her nipples tingled, beading. "Have you?"

"No," Joan said, softly, running her fingers over the chain. "But, I'd like to borrow them."

Penny snatched them back. "No way. I'm not adding to your bad behavior." Or giving them up. She added the nipple clamps to her drawer of naughty things, her nipples jutting out, tingling. Her panties were damp again, damn the man. How could he do this to her?

"There's another note," Joan said.

"Of course," she groaned. "What now? You will grovel before me some day—promises, promises. So far he's been nothing but a tease."

"Meet me at the Grand Hotel, room five seventeen, noon Saturday. X." Joan giggled. "Girl, you're gonna get it now."

"Well, I'm not going to do it," Penny protested, firmly. Still, she was dying to know who X was. He knew her movements, had access to the library. The only man that worked here was Mr. Powel, and she had it on good authority that the rotund gentleman was gay. She thought about Vlad for a second, her nipples tingling. Now, he was good looking. But, he was also stiff and formal, not to mention snooty. And he wasn't here that often, being the new head of the library's board of trustees.

Besides, he wouldn't have the desire to send such things to her. It couldn't be him. No it was somebody else—probably one of the library's patrons. It wouldn't hurt to check out Missy's House of B & D. They might be able to tell her who he was and put her out of her misery.

* * *

After work, she drove to the parking lot at Missy's House of B & D. It was a good thing she'd researched its location on her home PC this week, because it was hard to find. They didn't advertise—it wasn't in the phone book but her dogged determination had paid off. A small sign reading ‘Private Club' told her she was in the right place. The restored Victorian mansion, was charming, like something out of a fairy tale. Was the big bad wolf waiting inside, ready to paddle her? Not likely, she decided, tamping down her excitement while plucking up her courage.

When she entered the building, the first thing that hit her was the silence. It was plush, decorated in jewel tones, and empty. Where was everyone? She'd half expected to walk in on an orgy. The curtains parted in a doorway on her left, and a man walked out. He was older, and well dressed, in a blue shirt and tan chinos. She let out a sigh of relief, no black leather or whips.

"How may I help you, pretty one?"

Pretty? Her? Um, well, I'd like to talk to Missy please.

"You're talking to her Dom, love. My name is Samuel."

She blushed, "Her Dom?"

"Her dominant master. Missy is my sub's name. It's homage to her, so to speak."

"Sub's?"

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Yes, submissive, dear child. You're new, I see."

The very word submissive made her tremble. She needed to correct him quick.

"Well, I'm not...that is, I don't."

"Sit." He said quietly, pointing to a chair behind her.

She frowned. "No, thank you."

"Sit," he said, gruffly, raising a brow.

Gasping, she sank into the chair.

He patted her on the head. "Obstinate, but quite trainable. You're a true submissive, love."

Trainable. She shuddered, her nipples peaking.

"Now. What is it that you want?"

"Some things were sent to me—some obscene gifts." She gulped, as his interested gaze pierced her. "I demand to know who sent them."

"Oh," he said with a smile. "You must be Penelope."

Shocked, she gaped up at him, as his voice lingered over her name. "But, how do you know about me?"

"Simple. My friend is the man that sent the naughty gifts to you, love. Meeting you, I can now understand why he's crazy about you."

...He's crazy about you. But who was he? She tried not to focus on the teasing way Samuel said naughty. She wasn't naughty, or crazy about a secret stranger. "Who?"

He shook his head. "I can't reveal that, love." He pulled back a curtain. "But I've got more goods for sale, if you want to send something to him."

Penny rose, unable to stop herself, as she walked into the back room to look. She gazed at a row of nipple clamps on display, clasped to the mannequins' plump nipples, and gulped, her mouth going dry. She noticed the silver ones that X had sent her. Sterling and heavy, as she touched them, her nipples began to tingle, jutting out against her thick cotton bra. Appalled, she stepped back, hunching her shoulders, so he wouldn't see.

"You should meet him," Samuel said, behind her.

He knew about their proposed rendezvous, how embarrassing. When she turned to go, a man and woman entered the building. When they walked past, she saw that the woman's wrists were cuffed in front of her, her nipples hard, her eye's shining with excitement. The man, walking fast behind her, carried a black paddle. Penny blushed, and looked at Samuel. "What goes on here?"

"Anything that two consenting adults want to happen. The rooms are sound proofed." He added, softly, "So, no one will hear you beg for it."

She flushed. As if she would. "I have to go."

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