Behind closed doors

By Fanficwriter101 and Heidi

Disclaimer: The characters from the show aren't 

ours, they belong to others. No copyright 

infringement intended. If someone's used the storyline 

elsewhere, the same applies. Feedback would be 

nice, positive feedback would be nicer. Enjoy! 

Feedback: Yes please

Category: Sam/Donna BDSM fic. Bondage, dominance, 

fruit.

Rating: Definitely NC-17

Characters: Sam n Donna with a little drop of 

Cathy and Josh (!)

Series: Nope

Spoilers: Anything from Season One onwards

Summary: Donna offers to cheer Sam up

Archive: Just tell me where it's going

Additional 'stuff': This is a join effort between 

myself and Heidi 

Warning: This is a fic describing what lies 

behind the door to Sam's spare room. If you open the 

door, don't be surprised at what you find! 

Title: Behind closed doors

Saturday night

            Sam stretched tiredly. He was almost alone, only 

Leo and Donna remained in Leo's office, and they 

were, by the sounds of conversation, getting 

ready to leave. But he still had some work to do on a 

speech, and he needed to finish.

Margaret was off with the flu, Josh away visiting 

family and friends, and Donna had stepped in as 

Leo's temporary assistant with little persuasion. 

And it saved Leo having to hire a temp. Which he 

hated. And when Leo was unhappy, everyone knew 

about it. 

'Night Sam.'

'Night Leo.'

'Sam?'

Looking up, I see Donna standing in the doorway. 

'Yeah?'

'You almost done? It's nearly eleven.'

'Yeah. Not too much longer.' I move my head, 

trying desperately to work some of the tension out of 

my neck and shoulders. I'm only aware of Donna's 

presence behind me when her fingers press into 

the knots in my shoulders and I gasp at the pain as 

her fingers find a particularly sore spot. She 

pauses, pulls my tie free, and unhooks my top 

buttons. From the way she does it, standing behind me 

and without hesitation, I'm guessing it isn't her 

first time.

'Sam?'

'Yeah?'

'Why don't I go order some pizza? I'm hungry and 

you can finish up your work while we wait for it 

to get here.'

'Okay.'

The pizza we share is nice, filling my stomach 

which hasn't seen food since breakfast. Apart from 

a mid-morning bagel which really didn't do much. 

We chat about nothing, her friend Curtis, my 

recent problems with my car, then suddenly the beers 

are gone, and the pizza box is empty. We both sit 

back, the white waxy paper napkins only 

half-removing the oily residue from our fingers. 

'Sam, Cathy told me about your spare room.' 

Looking around to make sure they were quite alone, 

Donna decided to talk about the one thing that had 

been on her mind for quite some time.

Sam looked up, a frown on his face. 'Then today 

was Cathy's last day as my assistant and in this 

building.'

Donna smiled. She really was enjoying his 

embarrassment, a tiny bit.  It was cute on him. 'Sam! 

You can't fire Cathy for that. It's not that big of 

a deal.'

Sam looked at Donna for a long moment. 'Yeah, 

Donna, it is a big deal and I can and I'm going to.'

Donna began to panic. Sam was serious. 'Sam, I 

didn't mean to get Cathy in trouble. She only 

said...'

Sam shook his head, silencing her with a finger 

on her lips. He got up, walked out of the White 

House, and walked quickly down the street. 

Rushing to grab her coat and bag, Donna hurried 

after him. 'Sam...'

Sam flagged down a cab and got in, giving the cab 

driver his address. He was about to pull the door 

closed, but Donna's surprisingly strong grip on 

the door stopped him. 

The atmosphere in the cab on the short journey 

was tense, the cab driver refraining from making 

any comment as he glanced in his rear mirror and 

saw both their faces. The young man's angry 

expression, his mouth a tight line. The blonde's tearful 

nervousness.

Sam didn't wait for his change, walking to his 

front door as soon as he'd handed over the fare 

plus a large tip. 'You want me to wait, lady?'

Donna scrambled out after Sam. 'No, thanks.'

'Sam, wait!'

'Go home Donna.' He couldn't believe that Cathy 

would tell what had happened between them.

'Sam, I'm sorry.'

His key in the lock, Sam paused, turning back to 

her. 'Are you really?'

'Yes. Please don't fire Cathy.' Donna didn't dare 

tell him that she had found herself in a high 

state of arousal after hearing Cathy's assorted 

tales about the spare bedroom.

'Why not? Give me one reason why I shouldn't. You 

keep Josh's secrets. Is it too much to expect my 

assistant to do the same?'

Donna didn't answer and just got a thoughtful 

look on her face. Josh didn't have any secrets this 

big. Well, not that she knew of anyway, and she 

was sure she would have found out if he had.

Sam answered his own question. 'Apparently it 

is.'

'Sam, I'll do anything. Just please don't fire 

her.' Donna knew that Cathy couldn't afford to 

loose her job and it was partly her fault for 

encouraging Sam's assistant to consume a lot of alcohol 

on the night in question.

Donna had only broached the subject because she 

was intrigued that sweet, young Sam was into those 

things. Cathy had spilled all, or almost all, to 

the girls after being plied with alcohol. A 

little alcohol and girl talk had turned into something 

much more. Donna was determined that Sam would 

never know the whole truth. That Cathy had also 

spilled the news to CJ, Margaret, Carol, Bonnie, and 

Ainsley. He would never be able to look at any of 

them again without knowing that they knew. And 

she liked him too much to do that to him. 

What Donna didn't know was that most of the other 

women had their own experiences with his spare 

bedroom. They were just a little more discreet. And 

able to hold their alcohol.

Sam appeared to consider the offer for a moment. 

'Anything?'

Donna hoped her nerves didn't show. A little less 

certainty in her voice, she repeated: 'Anything.'

Unlocking his front door, Sam stood aside. 'After 

you.'

As she settled onto the couch, I walk into the 

bathroom and look for just the right thing. I smile 

and grab it. Donna's not gonna know what she's in 

for. Coming back, I hold out a large towel. 

'You can leave. Or you can shower and stay. It's 

your decision. I won't hold it against you later 

on.'

I take her lack of movement as a decision to 

follow the latter course of action and I wait until 

she looks up, suddenly realizing I've used the 

phrase 'later on'. 

'If we're gonna do this, we need to agree a few 

things.' I felt the need to give her an out. Let 

her make the decisions now because later on, she 

isn't gonna be able to.

'Such as?'

'A safe word. Something you would never usually 

say in normal conversation. I hear it once, we'll 

stop whatever I'm doing. I hear it twice, we'll 

stop altogether.'

Donna thought about the 'whatever I'm doing' part 

of that sentence. Eventually, she managed: 

'Chocolate.'

'I won't hurt you. And you won't hurt me, okay.'

'Okay.'

'You will however, do exactly as you are told.'

'Yes.'

Sam smiled, shaking his head. Donna's mix of fear 

and excitement were unfamiliar to him after all 

the times he'd used the room with women for whom 

his particular tastes were nothing new. He was 

enjoying the tension. 'Okay. And if you tell anyone 

about my spare room, I'll have Josh fire you. 

Still want to do this?'

Donna took a deep breath. 'Yeah.'

'Okay. Let’s go.'

Sam grabbed Donna’s hands and led her into the 

bathroom, where they both stood for a moment 

contemplating what was going to happen now.

‘Strip.’  Sam gave the command and waited for 

Donna to comply.  He would know after his intruction 

if she was ready, willing, and able to do this.

Donna stripped off her jacket, blouse, and skirt, 

then hesitated, looking around the room, working 

out that if she couldn't see Sam, he couldn't see 

her. Eventually, her hands went behind her back, 

and her underwear joined the heap of clothes on 

the tiled floor. Stepping under the steaming 

water, she automatically pulled the translucent 

curtain closed. 

 'The soap is in the dish by your right hand.' 

Donna peered through the small opening between the 

shower curtain and the wall and she couldn’t 

believe what she saw.  Sam was standing in the 

bathroom doorway. Picking up the apple-scented bar, 

Donna began to rub it over herself. 'Turn round.' I 

pull the plastic curtain back sharply, pleased at 

her reaction. 'This stays open. I want to watch 

you.'

Forcing away the image of Sam sitting on the 

linen hamper, watching her as she soaped herself, 

Donna let her mind drift and was in her own little 

world until...

'You missed a bit.'

The sound of my voice startles her. If we're 

going to do this, she has to concentrate on me. And 

herself. But not by tuning out. Trying to work out 

which 'bit' she missed, Donna is blushing. All 

over. 

This was mean, I admit. I've never seen Donna 

naked, and I had no idea she would give in so 

easily. Not even Cathy was this willing. Well, not 

about the shower, anyway. If Donna agrees, anything 

we do later will be consensual. It isn't about 

power or dominance, it's about mutual enjoyment. 

Well, mainly my enjoyment, I admit. But Donna might 

take some pleasure from it too. This, however, is 

all about power. I made sure the shower was set 

to massage when I fetched the towel, and the water 

is under tremendous pressure as it shoots out of 

the shower head and sprays onto her pale skin. 

After she's rinsed off, I reach in to turn off 

the water. I hand her the towel and help her climb 

out onto the bathmat. Donna quickly dries herself 

off and wraps the towel tight against her. The 

ends of her hair are wet, but that won't matter. 

'Turn round.' I twist her hair and pile it on her 

head. It's quite a stretch. Even without her 

two-inch heels, Donnatella Moss is still a tall woman. 

I fix it there with a large plastic clip, then 

take hold of her warm, slightly damp upper arms. 

She is shaking badly. I feel slightly sorry for 

her. Josh is away, she's working with Leo who is not 

the most patient man on earth, and she's just 

spent fifteen minutes naked with me watching her. 

'You can leave now. I won't stop you. After this, 

you stay. Well?'

'I want to stay.' Her voice betrays the 

nervousness she's desperate to hide. 

'Okay, let's play.' I flick a switch and the 

three tiled panels one on each wall of the bathroom 

slide away, revealing the large mirrors. These I 

had to install myself. I got away with getting 

someone in to soundproof the spare room by talking a 

friend into lending me some of his musical 

instruments then telling the rep who came that I was in 

a band and we needed somewhere to practice. But I 

could hardly tell a guy that I wanted mirrors on 

all the walls of my bathroom for the same reason. 

So I did them. And they work. 

Donna struggled to keep the towel wrapped tightly 

around her, not knowing what was coming next. If 

she hadn't been terrified of Sam's threat to fire 

Cathy, and desperately curious to know what was 

behind the locked door, she would have bolted from 

the room as soon as the mirrors appeared, 

reflecting her shaking form from every angle. And when 

Sam pulled on the latex gloves with deliberate 

slowness, she kept her eyes fixed on the door. 

'I noticed you had a little dry skin on your 

shoulder. I have some moisturizer. Come here.' I'm 

amazed at how obedient she is. Obviously, without 

knowing it, I'm fulfilling some fantasy she's had, 

probably for a while, and she's happy to go along 

with it. As I rub the perfumed skin preparation 

into her warm, slightly damp shoulders, I force my 

face to remain neutral, my expression blank. 'Put 

your arms up. Hands on your head.' Again, almost 

an instant reaction to my instruction. 'I have 

moisturizers for every part of your body. You may 

like to watch as I apply them.' I push her head up 

with a finger under her chin, and she's caught 

between humiliation and excitement as I pull the 

towel away, dropping it into the hamper behind me. 

I peel the gloves off, dropping them into the 

waste bin under the sink, replacing them with a 

fresh pair. The expensive cream slides across her 

breasts, absorbed slowly into the warm flesh. I pay 

particular attention to the nipples and the 

surrounding dark flesh, my fingers spreading the cream 

across the skin between her breasts as I move to 

the other side. 

I can feel the pads of Sam's fingers through the 

skin-tight gloves as they press into my breasts, 

and my nipples respond to the combination of cold 

air on my bare skin and his deeply massaging 

touch on my most sensitive skin. As he moves to my 

arms, pulling them down and working the different 

cream in both arms at a time, one hand on each, I 

can't help my body's reaction. But he simply 

moves behind me then continues, working the 

moisturizer into my shoulders, down my back, stopping at 

my waist. 

Changing the gloves for a fresh pair, I work a 

different, specially designed cream into the flesh 

of her buttocks and thighs, stopping when I can't 

reach from a standing position. I am not going to 

be kneeling in front of Donna tonight. I feel her 

tense as my fingers knead the cream into her 

flesh, but she relaxes again when my hand moves down 

to her thigh. 

The hand cream is last, requiring yet another 

change of gloves, then she's standing in front of 

me, her whole body slightly shiny from the various 

substances, her face flushed. 'Ready?' I'm not 

really surprised when she doesn't answer.  

Sam pushed the key into the lock and opened the 

door. He smiled as he sensed Donna's reaction. The 

way her shoulders stiffened, and her gasp of 

surprise, didn't need him to be looking at her face. 

'You may have five minutes to look round and ask 

any questions. After that, you will not speak. If 

you do, you will be punished. Go.'

Donna walked into the room, trying to take it all 

in, almost unaware that she was naked. The 

enormous four-poster bed. The gray metal cabinets lined 

up against the far wall. Cupboards, drawers, 

dozens of them. All padlocked. And in the far corner 

of the room, a large square box. 'What's that?'

Sam followed Donna's pointing finger. 'Sensory 

deprivation unit. It's soundproofed. Once you're in 

there, the world could end and you would have no 

idea.' I'm pleased she's noticed it. It cost a 

fortune, but it was worth it.

Donna's gaze fell on an upright wooden pole, 

fitting from floor to ceiling, metal hooks space at 

intervals along the middle third of its length. 

'And that?'

'It has a number of uses. Restraint, punishment, 

reward.'

Donna didn't feel that answered her question, but 

there was so much crammed into the room, she 

didn't want to waste time. She continued to circle 

the room, occasionally stopping in front of 

something, gradually working out for herself to what 

uses most of the various items could be put, 

questioning Sam about others. 

'Time's up. Come here.'

Donna walked slowly back to Sam, occasionally 

making eye contact with him as she closed the 

distance between them.  

'Turn round.'

She barely moved as he fastened the wide leather 

collar around her neck. It forced her head up, 

and she could only look straight ahead without the 

edges of the collar digging uncomfortably into 

the soft flesh of her jaw.   

'Lay down on the bed. On your back. Put your arms 

above your head.' 

Lying on the large four poster bed, Donna 

reluctantly followed Sam's instruction. She felt 

goosebumps rising on her arms as she shivered at the 

sensation of the soft cold rubber on her wrists. 

There was a short length of rigid rubber between the 

cuffs and Sam grasped it as he flicked a 

decorative carving on the wooden headboard behind Donna's 

head. 

'If you make any noise, I will gag you. I have a 

wide selection. I'm sure I can find something 

which will discourage you from making further 

sounds. Of course, in that circumstance, you would find 

it difficult, if not impossible, to use your safe 

word.' 

The threat was clear - make any noise and Sam 

would be in complete control. Donna squirmed as the 

gel inside the tightly-fitting leather blindfold 

Sam was putting on her head molded itself to the 

contours of her face.

Sam pulled the clip in her hair free as he 

realized he wouldn't be able to stretch the elastic 

band of the blindfold over it. Her long, blonde hair 

fell across the pillow and Sam's hand reached 

under the back of Donna's head to smooth it against 

the collar at her neck. Sam had been 

disappointed, watching Donna shower, that she was not a 

natural blonde. He had somehow always imagined she 

was. Still, the last thing he wanted was her hair, 

however she dyed it, tangling in the small links 

of the chain he was about to use. And he hoped she 

would be silent - stopping to organize a safe 

signal to replace the safe word they'd agreed would 

simply give Donna back an advantage he didn't 

want her to have.  

The sound of the chain falling against the wood 

behind her head made Donna automatically twist to 

look, but then she realized even without the 

collar, she couldn't see anyway. It was taking all of 

her will power and self control to restrain 

herself from using the word they'd agreed. There was a 

metallic click and suddenly her wrists were 

straining against the chain she had heard. Which was 

bolted to the indentation in the headboard. And as 

a second, then a third length of chain were 

fastened to the sides of the collar, she found she 

couldn't move her head at all.

Sam smiled slightly. He had several sets of cuffs 

- rubber, leather, even metal. But he assumed 

from her reactions so far that this was Donna's 

first experience of this level of submission, and he 

didn't want to hurt her. The rubber cuffs were 

soft and flexible. There would be no sign she had 

worn them a few minutes after their removal, but 

the Velcro closures and the length of the rigid 

rubber strip between them ensured they were as 

impossible to remove as those made from much harder 

materials. The collar was deliberately chosen. He 

didn't want Donna to have a completely easy time. 

Donna had the sense that Sam was nearby, although 

she could no longer smell his aftershave or hear 

his breathing. The sound of a key in a lock 

caught her attention. Moments later, she jerked as 

something warm and soft stroked her cheek. As it 

moved down her body, she identified it as some kind 

of fur, its warm softness on her ribcage and 

abdomen now.  

Donna squirmed, and Sam felt her stomach muscles 

contract involuntarily under his hand. His thigh 

brushed hers, and he smiled again as she frowned, 

working out that only one of them was naked. 

'Just relax and enjoy it.'

Donna slowly let herself drift, closing her eyes 

behind the blindfold, and 'saw' the soft glove 

making its way down her body. Sam slightly touched 

her center and she let out a soft moan.

'Did I tell you to speak?'

'No.'

'Another sound, and I'll have to gag you.' As I 

make the threat, I hope I won't have to carry it 

out. She's gone again. As I release the clip at 

the headboard, roll her onto her stomach, and 

re-fasten it, she hardly seems to notice. But her soft 

sounds as I start on her shoulders and back are a 

signal that I have her attention once more. I'll 

touch her, tease her, and pull away as she gets 

used to the touch. She won't come anywhere near 

orgasm until I'm was satisfied she's earned it. So 

I stop suddenly.

Sam got off the bed and put the glove back into 

one of the many drawers in a dresser that was 

shoved against one of the walls. He padded to the 

kitchen to find just the right thing. Sam smiled 

when he found it and walked back to the bedroom. 

Turning Donna onto her back, he pushed his fingers 

into the sides of her cheeks. 'Open your mouth.' 

As she panicked at the sensation, Donna heard 

Sam's soft voice.  'Gently. If it breaks, or you 

leave teeth marks, I'll be disappointed. And, 

believe me, you don't want to disappoint me.'

Donna felt the slimy fruit, firm and unripe, 

slide between her teeth and onto her tongue. She 

identified the taste as banana. Resisting the almost 

overwhelming urge to turn her head or bite down, 

she allowed Sam to push it into her mouth, 

whimpering quietly as it touched the back of her 

throat. She imagined not being able to breathe if he 

moved it further. 

Sam smiled at Donna's reaction as it touched the 

back of her throat, the slight gasp the only 

sound she had made in some time. He withdrew it 

slightly, then pushed it back. After several minutes 

of this, the urge was too strong, and Sam felt the 

resistance of Donna's tongue and lips against the 

rapidly-disintegrating fruit. He pulled it from 

her mouth, noting with a smile her relief that it 

was gone. His voice carried his disappointment. 

'I told you. No biting. Now I'm going to have to 

punish you.'

Making her wait several seconds, and watching her 

mounting anxiety as her chest rose and fell more 

swiftly and she struggled slightly against the 

cuffs, Sam finally climbed onto the bed with her, 

having decided how to punish her for the banana 

thing. He leaned in close to her and kissed her 

neck, gently pulling the skin and nibbling on it. 

When he was sufficiently pleased about marking her 

as his woman, he moved onto her breasts, stomach, 

and thighs. He was smiling to himself as she 

relaxed when she realized this was to be the extent 

of her punishment. But she couldn't see herself. 

Now she would be the one worrying about how to 

keep her private life private, like he had to.  

Donna couldn't believe that she had hickeys. She 

hoped that she remembered how to cover them up. 

She hadn't had to do that since high school. The 

hickeys were going to be an inconvenience, but the 

sensation of Sam's tongue and teeth pushed all 

the worries out of her mind. She concentrated on 

how he felt against her and how he made her body 

feel and respond. If this was what being in Sam's 

spare room was like, she was only disappointed 

she'd waited this long to broach the subject because 

it certainly hadn't lived up to the tales Cathy 

had told.  

She's doing it again. She's somewhere else. If 

she was here, she would have realized that I'm no 

longer using my teeth on her skin. Suddenly, her 

attention snaps back to me and her head jerks 

toward me, only to find that the collar stops her 

from moving. And the discomfort of the clamps I've 

just attached to her nipples. They're screw rather 

than the more uncomfortable clothespin type, and 

infinitely adjustable. At the moment, they're 

barely closed, just a tight squeeze, some 

discomfort, nothing more. Later, or if she displeases me 

further, they will be painful, then, possibly, 

agonizing. But maybe she will behave. She makes a few 

soft sounds while her mind adjusts to the new 

sensation. This is a good time to remind her of my 

earlier threat. 'Shhh. I don't want to have to gag 

you.' I whisper into her ear. Her almost 

immediate silence makes me smile. 'I have to go out. I 

won't be long.'

The door closes loudly and I shift slightly on 

the bed, moving myself towards the headboard, 

trying to work out if I can make myself more 

comfortable. But I can't. I'm actually not uncomfortable. 

Apart from the mental discomfort which comes from 

being handcuffed naked to Sam Seaborn's bed. 

Well, his spare bed. This is nice. Sam hasn't done 

anything too bad and I don't think he'll do 

anything to hurt me. We are friends, after all. And he 

said so, earlier. Moments later, I hear a 

scrabbling noise and then something small and furry 

brushes my thigh, climbing onto my leg. It's too small 

for a cat or dog, and I can't help myself. 

Guessing it's a mouse or rat, I scream. I've always 

been scared of them. At least Sam's not around to 

hear it. He would probably want to gag me if he 

could hear me. And the noise I make seems to have 

scared it. I feel the tiny claws scratch my leg as 

it jumps off me. I wonder if Sam's closed the 

door to the room. If not, I'm trapped in the room 

with...whatever it is. 

I hear her scream as I wait in the kitchen. The 

small lumps of cheese I scattered across the bed 

before I left her attracted my mouse. Who is a pet 

and well-used to the visitors to the spare room. 

I wait a couple more minutes until I hear Donna's 

shout, interspersed with her distressed sobs. 

'No! Sam, come back, please...' 

I didn't realize she'd be that scared. Slamming 

the front door, I walk into the room. 'What 

happened?'

'Sam, there's a rat. Please...'

I pretend to walk round the room for a few 

seconds. 'That's Wagnall, my mouse. He's got out of his 

cage, that's all. Donna, I'm disappointed that 

something so small led you to make all that noise. 

Now, you have a choice. I can gag you, or I can 

spank you. Which would you prefer?'

'No way!'                                                           

Ignoring both her words and the tone, I keep my 

voice deliberately calm and reasonable. 'Donna, 

one of those two things is going to happen in the 

next few minutes. Now, I'm offering you a choice. 

If you don't decide, I'll make up my own mind. 

So?'

I stand at the side of the bed for a few seconds, 

watching her.

Just as I'm about to tell her what I've decided 

to do, I hear: 'What will you use?'

I'm guessing which of the two options she's 

talking about. 'My hand. This time.'

Her voice is trembling, but I'm sure of her 

decision, and I'm already moving to the head of the 

bed. 

'Okay.'

'There now. That wasn't so hard was it? And 

please remember I have few rules, but those I make, 

you will obey. Or face the consequences.' Unhooking 

the chains from her collar and wrists, I pull her 

across my lap, one hand on her tailbone, the 

other resting gently across her butt. 'You will count 

each one. If you lose count, we will start 

again.'

I reach a couple of pillows across and push one 

of them under her stomach. The other goes under 

her head. Her arms I push away, and she rests her 

hands on the sheet. It  probably isn’t very 

comfortable for her, but she's supported from her waist 

to her head, which rests on the pillow, with a 

gap between the pillows for her breasts, so the 

nipple clamps aren't squashed. And it isn't intended 

to be comfortable. 

I've never been spanked. Even as a child. So I 

have no idea what to expect. How painful can it be? 

I mean, it's only Sam's hand, right? And...'

I bring my hand down on her soft, firm flesh. 

Donna's surprised shriek as my palm contacts her 

taut skin makes me smile. I stop. 'Donna, remember 

to count.'

She jumps at the contact, but manages to squeak 

out: 'One.'

I deliver another smack to her ass and wait for 

her response.

'Two.'

'You learn fast. You will only get a total of six 

spanks this time for your act of disobedience. 

The next time, it will be more and not so nice.' 

The second is less painful, delivered to my other 

cheek. But the third, delivered on the same spot 

as the first, is as painful as anything I've ever 

experienced. After I count six, and my butt feels 

like it's on fire. I don't even want to think 

about 'the next time'. Sam moves his hand upwards 

and begins to rub my back. Small, gentle circular 

movements. That's nice. 

I finish delivering her spanks and spend some 

time admiring the redness of her bottom. Donna 

learned well and bore her punishment, knowing that she 

was in the wrong. I can't help but think how much 

Ainsley detested this "activity". She was more 

than a willing participant until she had to face 

the music for her actions. I can still remember her 

trying to get away from the spanking that she 

knew was coming her way. That was the last night 

that she came over to play in the spare bedroom and 

as far as I know, she told no one what happened 

that night. I can still feel the way she writhed 

and wriggled around on my lap, trying to get away, 

but not being successful. She did have more than 

Donna and ended up using the safe word to stop 

the game. Ainsley was one of the few women who have 

visited that have used their safe word. I was 

disappointed. But pleased that it was Ainsley. 

She's somewhere else again. A quick slap on her 

warmed and reddened butt brings her back to me 

with a cry of pain. I sigh loudly. 'Donna, do you 

want me to repeat your spanking?' I pause just long 

enough for her to focus on me. 'No? Then pay 

attention. Now, up you get.' Clipping her wrist cuffs 

and collar to the pole she asked about earlier, I 

walk across to one of several large cupboards 

against the far wall. 

I can not believe that I just let Sam Seaborn 

spank me. This has got to be one of the most 

embarrassing things that have ever happened to me. I can 

only stand here and wonder what he has planned 

next. The nipple clamps are starting to get a 

little uncomfortable, but I know if I speak, Sam will 

want to gag me or spank me again. I just suck it 

up and deal with the tight feeling. I wonder what 

he is going to do to be next. Hopefully, 

something easy and nice. 

She's relaxed. That's good. She won't be for much 

longer. The fridge, hidden behind one of the 

larger cupboard doors, holds all sorts of things. 

Some edible, some not. I bring out one of each. 

'Donna, I want you to have a drink.'

Her head turns away as I press the bottle to her 

lips. 'What is it?'

I smile at her nervousness and decide to ignore 

the fact that she spoke. 'Just water. Drink it, 

Donna, or I will have to put a tube into your 

nose.' As I guessed it might, this gets her attention. 

She turns her head and begins to suck on the 

rigid plastic bottle's narrow neck. I wonder if the 

someone deliberately the bottle to resemble a 

baby's bottle, complete with nipple-shaped top that 

you actually have to suck on to get any water. 

Then I remember what we're doing. 'Not too 

much...there.'

She's had around a third of the small bottle. 

Enough so she doesn't get dehydrated. I get up, 

replacing the bottle in the fridge. She can have more 

later. 

'Donna, no talking, okay?'

Her head drops, fear of what I'll do mixing with 

the knowledge that she's done something wrong. 

She's a fast learner. 

I got the thing I'm about to use on Donna as a 

set with the cuffs and blindfold. It's about a 

dozen narrow flexible rubber strips attached to a 

short wooden handle. It can be used to inflict pain 

if it's hit hard against bare flesh. But from the 

freezer, when dragged slowly across warm flesh, 

it's almost as painful. Apparently. 

What the..? There's something touching me. Cold, 

very cold. And molding itself to my shoulder and 

arm. Like fingers only lighter. And cold. The 

thing trails down my arm, moments later starting 

across my shoulders. Then down my other arm. I can't 

help myself. I back against the pole behind me, 

feeling it against my buttocks, which makes me 

flinch. They are still sore. I grip the pole with my 

hands, trying to concentrate my mind on the feel 

of it between my fingers rather than the awful 

cold softness which is trailing across my breasts 

and moving down to my stomach. I don't even 

consciously contract my muscles or hold my breath, but 

both things happen. Eventually I have to take a 

breath and the tips of... whatever it is...brushes 

my stomach as I contract the muscles again. 

Concentrate on the pole...feel the pole... But 

the coldness is behind me now, moving down my 

shoulders and my back. It touches my fingers which 

ache from their tight grip. And I feel the tips 

of...whatever it is...brushing my taut fingers. I am 

making sounds now. Not recognizable words. Just 

sounds. I can hear them, and I know I'm making 

them. And I can't stop. I can't help it. I know I'll 

be punished, And I don't care. I don't care. 

I sigh. 'Oh dear. I warned you what would happen, 

didn't I?' I push Donna back down to the bed and 

re-attach the chains. I can tell that she is 

slightly more apprehensive about what could happen as 

the night goes on. That apprehension is something 

I can work with. Donna will be on the edge, never 

knowing what to expect or what is coming at her. 

I think now is the time to let her relax, if 

that's what you want to call it, while I plan what is 

coming next. She knows she's going to be gagged. 

But she has no idea how. After a couple of 

minutes during which I simply stand quietly, watching 

her as she waits, occasionally moving, I walk back 

to the bed. 'Donna, I'm sorry. I didn't want to 

have to do this. But you had several chances. Just 

hold still...'

His fingers force my mouth open. I have only a 

few seconds to try to convince him not to...No! 

It's a rubber ball which fills my mouth, stretching 

my cheeks as he forces it into my mouth. I 

struggle, shaking my head, but that just hurts, the 

collar digging into my jaw and I stop, knowing my 

tears are coming out from under the blindfold. And 

he's touching my breasts. No, he's...

I can hear her muffled pleas as I give the clamps 

a turn. They are nowhere near as tight as they 

can be, but they are now painful rather than 

uncomfortable. If she behaves well for a while, I may 

release them. If not, I will tighten them. 'Donna, 

just keep still. It will hurt less soon. 

There...' 

His voice is calm, intended to reassure me that 

this horrid-tasting, rubber smelling ball inside 

my mouth is something I deserve. Which I do. I 

know I spoke when I shouldn't have. But he could 

have used something nicer. And the elastic strap is 

cutting into my cheeks. And the one under my jaw 

which is stretching over the top of my head is 

tight too.

And the clamps on my nipples are agony. 

Dammit, now I have to think quickly. 'Donna, if 

you want to stop, just bend your left knee, okay? 

Bend it now, so I know you understand.' Her leg 

flexes. 'Do you want me to stop? Bend it again if 

you do.' There is a slight movement, and I get 

up, ready to release her. But then it stops. I have 

to be sure. 'Donna, if you want me to stop, bend 

your knee.' This time there is absolutely no 

movement, and I get up. 'Okay, just lay there for a 

little while. I'll be right back. And Wagnall's 

safely caged  in the other room.'          

I was going to. Just bend my knee and it would 

all be over. But something stopped me. I don't know 

what it was. Except I do. Sam is fulfilling every 

fantasy I ever had since the day Cathy told us 

what Sam did to her in this room. I'm a little 

cross she only told us the nice stuff. And she never 

mentioned a mouse. Sam was right. The pain in my 

nipples is less now, and I'm getting used to the 

sensation of the rubber ball filling my mouth. 

Something's being pulled tight across my upper 

chest and waist. Some kind of strap. Cold on my skin 

but smooth. I feel it dig into my flesh, then 

nothing. Just a firm pressure as the straps press me 

onto the bed. Moments later, the brush of Sam's 

hand on my breast. I can't move at all now, and 

have no way of avoiding the searing pain as he 

tightens the nipple clamps again. I feel his hand on 

my thigh as he says gently: 'Remember, just bend 

your knee.'

She's had an easy time so far. A little 

humiliation, some discomfort, a little fear. Although I 

hadn't known she would be so scared of Wagnell. 

Still, it didn't do any harm. And she's obviously 

not hating it. Although back there for a second, I 

did think she was going to end it. I will have to 

ask her why she didn't. And as I pause for a 

moment, her legs are quite still. Still, time for a 

little more fun. I enjoy this part as much as the 

women I do it to. I find massage very relaxing. 

And I do like feet. 

He's touching my feet. No, actually, he's 

massaging my feet. It's nice. It takes my mind off the 

pain in my nipples, and the smell of rubber. 

'It's called reflexology. The theory is that 

there's a part of your foot for every part of your 

body. Stimulate one, and you stimulate the other.' 

And I know exactly which part of each foot 

stimulates which part of your body. I can't resist 

giving her a mini-lecture. She is relaxed. Her 

breathing is slow and steady. Not for long. I press my 

fingertip firmly into her flesh and she jerks. 

What happened? I was listening to Sam's 

explanation, then suddenly...well, it was not nice. I take 

a deep breath and relax again. That's nice. 

Really, really nice. Whatever he's doing, I don't want 

him to stop. No! Not that again. Just when I 

start to enjoy it, I get a pain in my back.

It's a good thing she can't see my smile. She 

knows even with this I have the power to bring her 

either pleasure or pain. 

Okay, let's end on a high note. She has earned a 

reward. I reach across and begin to massage both 

feet at the same point. I watch her breathing 

begin to speed up, and her gasps, muffled by the 

gag, begin to get louder as she tries to arch her 

back. Of course, she can barely move with the 

straps I fastened on her earlier. Fighting the 

desperate urge to move, to fully enable her to enjoy the 

feelings I've created, I hear and see her intense 

frustration as she reluctantly accepts that 

although I'm allowing her to enjoy the moment, I'm 

still in control. 

I get up and quickly release the hook at the 

bedhead, releasing her wrists and neck. The collar 

has several Velcro closures to enable it to be 

removed from almost any angle, and I pull it open, 

releasing her almost completely. I tear the wrist 

cuffs off, finally reaching across and removing 

the nipple clamps. As the sensations flood her 

body, she can't hold back, and she climaxes with a 

force which stretches the rubber straps across her 

upper torso almost to breaking point until I 

unclip them. 

As she writhes on the bed, I stand back, enjoying 

the sight of Donatella Moss as she reaches the 

peak of what is probably the most powerful orgasm she's 

ever experienced. I've deliberately left the 

blindfold and gag in place. I didn't want to 

accidentally touch her body and ruin the moment. For 

either of us. 

After a couple of minutes, she is still, just the 

occasional shudder, and I gently remove first the 

gag, waiting until she's quiet again before 

pulling the blindfold free. She blinks several times, 

her breathing still ragged. 'Sam...'

I smile down at her. 'Shhh. Here, have some 

water.' This time she sucks eagerly at the chilled 

water, quickly emptying the whole bottle and I put 

it on the low table behind me before turning back 

to her. I unfold the sheet and blanket I'm 

holding and cover her with them. 'Rest now. There...' I 

smooth her hair off her damp forehead, gently 

stroke her cheek as she settles onto her side, her 

legs pulling up. 'Goodnight Donatella.' As 

expected, there is no answer. She's already asleep. 

Leaving a couple of the dimmest lights on in the 

room, so she doesn't wake up and panic, I also leave 

the light on in the bathroom. Just in case. The 

light won't disturb me. I'm exhausted, and will 

have no trouble sleeping until the alarm wakes me. 

I know from experience that Donna is likely to 

require a long rest, and I'm certain that I will be 

awake, eating breakfast and reading the Sunday 

papers long before she wakes. If she wants to stay 

and talk, that will be nice. If not, well, I'll 

see her Monday. On balance, I think she'll want to 

stay. But I don't know. It will be a nice 

surprise. But tomorrow. For now, I will shower, then 

sleep. And dream. Of Donna Moss completely under my 

control. 

Sunday morning

Donna awoke in a strange room and was puzzled. 

Then all of the night's memories came rushing back. 

Oh my God. I cannot believe I let Sam Seaborn do 

that to me. This is so humiliating. I can only 

hope that he isn't gonna tell anyone what happened. 

I did have a good time overall. He gave me one of 

the best orgasms I've ever had in my life. No 

other man has ever come close to that. I'd better 

get up and go face him.                                                                                                                                                                                   

Donna wrapped the sheet around herself and walked 

into the bathroom where she locked the door 

behind her and quickly showered. Slipping into the 

previous day's clothing, she walked to the kitchen 

where she found Sam drinking coffee and reading 

the paper.

'Good morning.' I greet her and wait for her 

response.

'Good morning Sam.' Donna pours herself some 

coffee and sits down at the table. I can tell she's 

deep in thought and wondering how to broach this 

conversation.

'I know you want to talk about last night. It's 

okay.'

'I can't believe that room.'

'Most people can't when they are here for the 

first time. They get used to it and comfortable with 

it quickly. Or not.' As I speak, I feel sure I 

know which of those two types of people Donna Moss 

is going to be.  

'Sam, about what happened....'

'Donna, I don't talk about that part of my life 

with anyone, if that's what you're worried about.'

'It's just that...'

'I know. Don't worry about it. I keep my 

promises.'

'I have never experienced some of the stuff that 

you did to me last night. I just feel weird.'

'Do you want to talk about it? What we did last 

night?'

'Yeah, if you don't mind.'

'Not a problem for me. Do you want to go back in 

there and we can talk?'

'Like returning to the scene of a crime?'

'Nothing is gonna happen like it did last night. 

This is just us talking about it.'

'Thanks Sam. I really would like to talk about it 

in there. Keep this behind closed doors.'                                                                                                                                                                                                              

I open the door to the room and she walks in and 

sits down on the bed. She is focusing everywhere 

but on me.

'What did you want to talk about from last 

night?'

'Where did you get all of this stuff?'

'I've been collecting it for years and the 

Internet really helps too.'

'Sam, I want ask you why you thought spanking me 

would be the best punishment?' 

I smile. 'Because I've watched you. You, Cathy, 

all of you. And I guessed no-one in your life had 

ever disciplined you in that way. Was I right?'

Donna flushed. Then she nodded. 'My parents never 

hit me.'

Before I can stop myself, I say: 'Mine did.'

She doesn't seem to notice my slip. She's still 

too wrapped up in what happened last night.    

'My turn. You were about to give your safe 

signal, then you didn't. Why not?'

I wait as she considers her answer. 'I was 

scared.'

I frown. 'You were scared to stop?'

'I was scared that if I stopped...it, you 

wouldn't like me any more.'

I was not expecting that. Donna Moss, loud, 

confident, annoying Donna Moss has a vulnerable side. 

Okay...she's looking for some reassurance here. 

'Have some breakfast.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'Donna, you must be. Now eat something. Come on.'

That voice is back. The one he used last night. 

The one which tells me what to do. But this 

morning is different. He can't tell me what to do. But 

I can try to get him to do something for me. 'I 

don't think I could manage.'

'Come here. Sit here.' I indicate a point on the 

floor next to me. And I watch, ever so slightly 

amazed, as Donna drops onto the floor and sits at 

my feet, legs curled up, her eyes on me. Suddenly 

understanding what she's doing, I resist the urge 

to smile. Instead, I tear a slice of toast into a 

few small pieces and feed her the bits, one at a 

time, remembering to give her a few sips of juice 

between the dry toast. After a few minutes, she 

gets to her feet. 'Thank you Sam.'

'You're welcome Donna. You took your punishment. 

You got your reward. That's the way of the world. 

Oh, and just so you know. I like you a lot.'       

Her tearful smile as she pulls on her shoes and 

walks to the door makes me smile too. But I don't 

let it show on my face. 

Monday morning

            'Cathy, I need to talk to you.' Donna walked up 

to the only woman in the bullpen. 

'About what?' Cathy asked, not sure of what was 

going on.

'Sam's spare bedroom.' I stated with a frown on 

my face.

'Oh my God! You told him you knew? What 

happened?'

'Quite a few things and I'm really upset with 

you.'

'Why are you upset with me? You didn't have to 

tell him you knew. Or go over there or even 

continue with whatever he's doing. He gives you an out.'

'I'm mad at you because you didn't tell me about 

what he did.'

'Donna, did you really expect me to tell you all 

of that stuff? Didn't you think I was embarrassed 

that I let him do that to me?'

'Sorry.'

Cathy was intrigued. 'What did he do to you?'

'He put some kind of collar and handcuffs on me 

and then he spanked me.'

'That would be his usual. Did you get to meet 

Wagnell?'

Donna shuddered at the memory. 'Yeah. You mean 

the mouse? It crawled all over me.'

'Did you have a good time overall though?'      

Donna nodded. 'Yeah. I've never experienced 

anything like that.'

Cathy smiled. 'My first time, he never even 

touched me.'

Rubbing her skin through her blouse, Donna 

flinched. 'I have hickeys.'

'Yeah. I meant, you know, intimately.'

'Oh, yeah. No, he didn't have to.'

'Why can't we find a man who can do that to us 

but without the pain?'

Donna laughed quietly. 'Or the mouse.'

Cathy smiled then walked back to her desk.

What both women didn't know was that Sam had 

arrived early for work and heard them talking about 

what they had both experienced. He'd hoped to 

avoid this, but it didn't work out that way. Now he 

had to figure out a way to punish both women. Only 

they wouldn't have anywhere near as much fun. Nor 

would he be alone. And he knew exactly who he 

would invite to join him. 

             'Cathy, would you come in here please?'

Cathy walked in and saw Sam sitting behind his 

desk. Her smile faded as she saw his smile, clearly 

for the benefit of those around them, disappear 

the moment she was inside his office. Firmly, he 

said: 'Close the door.'

'Sam?'

'Cathy, I'm disappointed in you. You shared our 

secret with Donna.'

'Yes.'

As she stares at the floor, realizing how much 

trouble she's in, I ask quietly: 'Do you remember 

what I told you would happen if you did that?'

'Yes.'

Sam got up, walked to his office door, opened it, 

and called across the bullpen. 'Donna, got a 

minute?'

'Sure Sam.' Donna walked quickly across the room 

and walked past Sam into his office. She saw 

Cathy standing in front of Sam's desk, her eyes 

tearful. 

'Cathy, what...'

'Quiet.' 

Sam's sharp voice made Donna jump, and Cathy 

began to cry. 'Sam, I thought you said...'

Sam sighed, dropping back into his chair. 'I 

changed my mind Donna. Both of you clear your desks.'

Donna was incensed. 'Sam, the President won't...'

Looking directly at her, Sam said softly. 'Donna, 

you know what happens if you talk after I told 

you not to, don't you?'

Automatically dropping her head, Donna stared at 

the floor as she replied: 'Yes.'

'You will both be at my house at seven on 

Saturday evening. If I have a pleasant evening, I may 

change my mind. Cathy, I need the notes on my DOD 

meeting.' Dismissed, Cathy walked out. 

Donna turned to follow her. Sam's voice stopped 

her. 'Donna, just one other thing. I invited 

someone else over Saturday.'

Risking a question, Donna asked: 'Who?'

Before Sam could answer, the door opened after a 

knock. 'Sam, you want me to bring anything 

Saturday?'

Sam shook his head, smiling. 'No, Josh. Just 

yourself.'

The look on Donna's face made Sam laugh. 'Thank 

you Donna, that's all.'

As she turned to leave, Donna risked one more 

question: 'Sam, can I try out the sensory 

deprivation box this time?'

Sam smiled. 'If I feel you earn it during the 

evening, you may, of course, choose a reward. You 

may have to fight Cathy for it. It's her favorite 

too. But there are plenty of other toys for us to 

play with.'

What Donna doesn't know yet is that Cathy won't 

be there for too long and it's just gonna be us 

and her. This could be fun. 

Nervously, his assistant approached Sam's desk. 

'Here's your file Sam.'

'Thanks Cathy. Sit down. Close the door.'         

Surprised at his change of mood, Cathy sat slowly 

in the armchair.

I begin to tell her the basic plan of what 

Saturday will entail.  A short, but well deserved 

punishment for her.  She knows it’s coming.  I want 

her to think about it up until it actually happens.

'Now, are you sure you can remember all that?' I 

want Cathy to be clear on her role in Donna's 

next visit. Which will, although important, actually 

be very short-lived. Unlike Donna's. And Josh's. 

Neither of whom will know what I have planned.