"You ought to have your parents over for dinner more often," Maggie remarked thoughtfully, gathering up the napkins from the long dining room table and picking up some loose silverware.

"They won't come. I only cook two things well. They get tired of steak and spaghetti."

Maggie laughed as she went to the kitchen, returning to take the wine glasses. "Well, next time let me cook something. I can do more than steak and spaghetti, I assure you." Holding five glasses carefully, she headed back toward the kitchen. "Hey, do you want -"

She turned to call back to Sergei, not realizing that he was right behind her. With a horrified little gasp, she ran straight into him, the leftover wine in the glasses spilling out and onto his white shirt, leaving dark maroon blotches. Abruptly, her eyes filled with tears. "I can get those stains out, I promise you, I just need some club soda and maybe a little bleach and -"

"Maggie, it's okay. It's just a shirt."

She hurriedly dropped off the glasses in the sink, grabbed a dishtowel and ran it under the faucet, returning to blot at Sergei

. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," she said over and over as she desperately tried to clean up some of the wine. It was turning a lighter pinkish color, at least, she thought to herself, still dabbing at the shirt as a few tears began to make their way down her face. Sergei took her wrist lightly and pulled it away from him, looking at her with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and concern.

"Maggie!" he said, pausing to make sure he had her attention. "Listen to me. It's a plain white shirt. I have a lot. It's all right, okay?" he asked, gently brushing his hand over her face to wipe away the tears. She stared blankly for a second and then closed her eyes, turning away before he could see the color rising in her cheeks.

"God, I'm sorry," she murmured, shaking her head as if to scold herself. "I'm sorry, I just - I guess sometimes I forget. Old habits die hard." She walked to the sink, tossing aside the now pink dishtowel and began rinsing off dishes.

"What do you mean?" Sergei asked, moving to stand next to her. He leaned against the sink and cocked his head to look at her.

She glanced up and shook her head again. "Uh... nothing. It's nothing. It was a long time ago."

Her voice was unsteady, and although she tried to hide it, Sergei noticed. "Doesn't sound like nothing." He waited for her to respond, and when she didn't, he went on. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Maggie stopped rinsing dishes and stood with her hands in a sink full of soapy water for a minute, her eyes closed. "Mark." She opened her eyes, noticing the confused expression on Sergei's face. "I never told you about Mark, did I." She looked so very sad that Sergei put one arm around her shoulders. She smiled and leaned against him. "It's a long story. Sure you wanna hear it?"

Sergei led her to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for her. "I'm sure."

"Mark was my... well, I don't want to call him much of anything. Certainly not my boyfriend. Mark was this... this guy. I don't even know why I went out with him. No, I take that back, I do know. I was tired of being alone, and he came along, and despite all his flaws, he was a living, breathing guy and that was good enough for me. He really wasn't very nice to me, even from the beginning. I guess tonight, just now, it sort of brought back memories. I did the same thing to Mark once, and he didn't take it very well. Called me just about every name you can think of, and some you probably can't," she said with a hint of a smile, although it wasn't a happy one. "I mean, he was really pissed."

Sergei felt the heat rise in his face, and, irrational or not, he found himself getting mad. "Did he... hit you?"

"Oh Jesus, no, he wasn't stupid enough to do that. Just yelled at me a lot. You know, the usual; calling me stupid, and worthless, that sort of thing." She stopped talking. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Does talking make you feel better?"

She sighed deeply. "Yeah."

Sergei smiled at her kindly. "Then I want to hear this."

"Anyway, I stayed with him for three years, can you believe that? I mean, how stupid can I get? I guess in that respect, Mark was right."

"You aren't stupid," Sergei said quietly and Maggie rested her chin in one hand, smiling ruefully. She put her other hand over his and sighed once more.

"Maybe not anymore. But I was. Or if not stupid, then at least shallow. Naïve, maybe. I don't know. I was something, though, I can tell you that. He was very controlling, I guess, to put it mildly. If we went out, Mark picked the place, Mark picked the time, Mark picked my goddam clothes. I'd just wait for him to come over in my bathrobe so he could tell me what to wear. Is that the most pathetic thing you've ever heard?" She didn't wait for an answer. "He never hit me, but there was a lot of emotional abuse. He was really jealous, too. He once dragged a guy outside and broke his nose for offering me his seat at a bar."

She paused now, to take a breath and to collect her thoughts. "He was younger than me. Maybe that was part of the controlling; he felt he had to prove something. He would take me to parties, but God forbid I open my mouth. I was there for show, and that was it. I used to be grateful that he chose me. I wasn't a sorority girl, and the diving team wasn't exactly a popularity ticket, but Mark was one of the elite on campus. Which also might have been my reason - or one of them - for staying with him. But I'd like to think it wasn't."

"You were young." It might have been an explanation or it might have been a simple declarative statement. Maggie wasn't quite sure what it meant, but she nodded just the same.

"Too young, probably. But old enough to know it wasn't right. God, he even used to -" But she caught herself before the words were out of her mouth. Sergei raised his eyebrows.

"Used to what?"

Maggie shook her head. "Nothing. I seriously doubt it's something you'd want to hear. It's kind of an awkward thing to talk to you about. I don't want you to feel... weird. About it."

"Weird? I won't. You can say anything to me, really."

Moving her hand from her chin to her forehead, she bowed her head, not especially wanting to look him in the eyes to talk about her sexual past with her ex. "Every time we slept together, he would always... he would always tie me up."

Sergei looked surprised. It wasn't quite what he had expected she was going to say. "Every time?" It was really the only thing he could think of to say.

"Well, almost," she muttered to the table. "Like I said, very controlling. I never had much of a choice about anything."

Sergei shook his head, feeling the anger stirring again. "You should always have a choice." Maggie didn't answer. "Was it... voluntary?"

"Me, you mean? At first, I suppose. Hell, I didn't know what I was doing. He suggested it and I didn't want to piss him off. So I agreed, and from then on, it was just the way things went."

"Did you ever say no?" he asked softly. At this, her eyes closed as she nodded.

"Once." Her voice sounded distant.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Her eyes opened then, and she finally looked up at him. She turned her head to the right and glanced upward, pulling the hair away from her forehead. "See that?" she asked, referring to the mark just above her eyebrow that Sergei had always assumed was a birthmark. "The one and only time he ever hit me, and the son of a bitch had to have his stupid class ring on. And that was when I left him. I may have pretended to be blind to all the rest of his crap, but not that."

Sergei was speechless, his eyes wide. Maggie coughed out a little laugh. "I guess maybe I got even with him though. I bled all over his carpet. It was really terrible. I think he ended up having to put in new carpeting."

Sergei, on the other hand, found nothing about that amusing in the least. "Where does he live?" he asked, his eyes growing dark. Maggie waved her hand vaguely, not seeing Sergei's expression.

"Oh, I don't know, somewhere in Livonia, I don't know for - Sergei? Where are you going?"

"To get the phone book," was the answer, through clenched teeth, "and to find his address, and then to kill him."

Maggie's jaw dropped. "Sergei, you aren't serious!" she exclaimed as he crossed the kitchen and pulled the phone book from a drawer. She took the book from his hand and put it back down on the countertop, shaking her head. "This happened years ago, and he probably never thinks about it. Trust me, he's not even worth the effort." Granted, she was flattered that he would want to beat the hell out of Mark for raising a hand to her, but she was a little taken aback. She'd never actually seen Sergei's violent side before.

He stood there, staring at her, thoroughly unconvinced. After a long silence, he relented. "All right," he replied rather sullenly, and, with a heavy sigh, pulled her into his arms.

"I appreciate the thought," she said quietly and he smiled a tiny bit.

"He never let you control anything?" he asked finally, the bits of ideas finally coming together.

She shook her head against him. "Nothing," was the definitive response.

"You can control me, if you want," he said very softly. Maggie pulled back from him to look at him. She studied his face for a long time, wearing an expression of both disbelief and wariness, and underneath that, maybe even a little eager hopefulness.

"Are you serious?"

A smile crept across his face and he nodded, suddenly very shy. "I'm serious," he replied. Maggie stared at him a moment more before deciding that he was certainly serious, and then smiled herself.

"Well, we'll see," she told him cryptically before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and went back to the dining room to finish clearing the table.

**********

"Come with me for a sec, I want you to see something."

Sergei finished the glass of water and glanced over his shoulder at Maggie, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing her patented impatient look, complete with her hands on her hips. "Right this minute?"

She narrowed her eyes but offered a little smile. "Yes, right this minute. And you got that expression from me, I know you did."

"Did we get something new?" he asked, prolonging going upstairs just to torment her.

She sighed with theatrical exaggeration. "No."

"I already have seen upstairs. It won't go anywhere." He couldn't control the grin and Maggie rolled her eyes.

"For God's sake, just come with me. Please? It's a surprise."

"A good surprise?"

Maggie thought. "Well, yeah, you could call it that I suppose."

"Will I like it?"

She smiled. "Oh yeah, I think you'll like it." There was something in her eyes that he couldn't quite read, but he put down the glass nevertheless and followed her dutifully upstairs and into the bedroom. He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, a little confused. Maggie, on the other hand, simply folded her arms in front of her and said one word.

"Strip."

Sergei's eyes widened in genuine surprise and he stared at her. She wasn't smiling but instead had her chin tilted down just enough to allow her eyes to look a little menacing. However, and he would never swear to it, but he was fairly certain she was doing her best to hide a little smile, at least at first. This was definitely a change.

"Maggie, what -"

Before he had a chance to say anything more, she interrupted him. "I didn't give you permission to speak. I won't tell you that again. Now strip." He probably couldn't have said anything more if he'd wanted to. The shock was too much. There was nothing to allow disagreement in her tone, and, still staring at her, he began to unbutton his shirt, a bit uncertainly. That done, he slid it off his shoulders and let it drop to the ground, pausing again.

Maggie raised her eyebrows as if to challenge him. "Keep going. I'll tell you when to stop." This was when it finally occurred to him that this was coming from last night's conversation. He felt the adrenaline begin to race through him, and his breathing quickened just a bit. Maggie watched him carefully, her head tilted to one side as if she were appraising him. There again was that hint of a smile, more in her mouth than her eyes. Her eyes were very serious and very dark, and somehow that made what was going to happen even more intense to Sergei, already nearly painfully aroused.

Hands trembling, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, dropping it to the ground, and then unbuttoned his pants. Maggie stood patiently, arms still folded, staring at him as he undressed. When at last he wore nothing more than a pair of gray Calvin Klein briefs, she held up one hand.

"That's far enough."

Strangely, Sergei felt both relieved and frustrated, but he dropped his hands to his sides. Maggie remained where she was but nodded toward the bed. "Lie down," she commanded. But Sergei was helpless to move. He could only stare at her, his knees weak and shaking. Not that he wasn't enjoying this. Quite the opposite - it was a side of Maggie he'd never guessed existed but was very glad it did.

Maggie closed her eyes, appearing to hold her irritation in check. She was a very good actress, Sergei noted, as he began to feel a little nervous and wondered if she really was acting. She opened her eyes and gave him a rather patronizing look. "I'm not going to keep repeating myself. Lie down. Now."

Still staring, he began to walk backward toward the bed, everything inside him feeling as if it had turned to liquid. He was vaguely aware that he was very warm, only looking at Maggie. If he had had any initial misgivings about any of this, they were long gone now. He trusted her completely, and the thought of giving himself completely over to her made him dizzy with lust. He was bigger than her, a great deal stronger than her, too, but now he was letting her control him, and that just made things all the more exciting.

He felt the backs of his thighs hit the mattress, and he stopped, frozen again. Finally, Maggie moved from her spot on the floor to stand in front of him for a moment before putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him backward with surprising force. He collapsed on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows to sit up. Maggie placed one open palm on his chest and pushed again, not nearly as hard this time, but Sergei got the hint. He wriggled his way up the bed until he was sitting in the middle. Maggie knelt in front of him and with her hands on his shoulders a second time, guided him gently onto his back. With one knee on either side of his waist, she reached for something under one of the pillows.

"Give me your hands," she said, her tone still authoritative but softer now.

"Maggie, what -"

And abruptly, the gentler tone disappeared. "I thought I made it perfectly clear that you are not to speak. I'm going to have to punish you for disobeying me. Nothing too painful, babe. Now, give me your hands."

Hypnotized, he raised his hands above his head slowly and she secured first his right wrist, then his left above his head with the neckties she'd chosen earlier that evening. She straightened up a bit and looked down at him. "Can you move?" she asked. Without trying, he shook his head, most assuredly not about to open his mouth again. She motioned to his wrists. "Pull. Hard."

Sergei gave what he thought was a fairly hard tug with both arms and was surprised to find that the knots that held him didn't loosen a bit. Maggie smiled, satisfied with herself. "Perfect." She stood then and gazed down at him. "Stay put," she remarked with an evil grin. "I'll be right back." She left him there and disappeared into the bathroom.

Sergei watched her go and swallowed hard, trying the ties once more, not because he particularly wanted to be free, but because he couldn't quite believe that Maggie could tie him there so securely. He shivered a little, wishing that even though it was the middle of summer, the air conditioner weren't running so high. She left him lying there for what seemed like a very long time to Sergei. And the longer he lay there, the more excited he became, thinking about all the possibilities.

Maggie opened the bathroom door then, and raised her eyebrows in amusement at Sergei, now very obviously aroused, clasping her hands behind her back like a teacher as she crossed the room. Maggie was usually not a big proponent of lingerie and preferred either nothing or something old of Sergei's to sleep in, but now she'd decided on something a little different. Black lace panties beneath what would have looked like a black silk slip had it come further down than just to her waist, and one of her favorite scarves hanging loosely around her neck.

Sergei's eyes widened considerably but he didn't say a word.

Maggie carefully climbed back on the bed, again positioning herself on top of him, pinning him to the bed as if she wasn't quite sure tying his wrists had been enough for now. He never took his eyes off of her, because a tiny part of him was a little nervous about what she might do if he couldn't see her. As if she had foreseen this in some way he couldn't imagine, she slowly slid the scarf off of her neck and began to fold it into a thin strip with exceeding precision. Sergei watched, already having a fairly good idea of what that scarf was going to be used for.

"Lift up your head," she said evenly and although that tiny part of his mind objected very loudly, he couldn't help but do what she said; she had that much of an effect on him. He raised his head and she placed the scarf over his eyes, leaning very close to him to tie it behind his head. Once she was satisfied with this, she put one hand behind his head and guided it back down onto the pillow.

Sergei took a deep breath, straining to be able to see anything but again, Maggie had made sure that her work couldn't be compromised. She touched his cheek lightly and he jumped, immediately feeling a little silly. Now that she was sure he couldn't see her expression, she let herself smile genuinely, deciding that it was time she put him at ease. She leaned over him once more and put her cheek next to his. In a very soft, gentle voice, barely above a whisper but without a doubt seductive, she said, "I can promise you that I won't do anything to hurt you, but if you want me to stop, or if this goes too far, snap your fingers and it's over. You have my word."

He relaxed a little at that, but only a little. Maggie wriggled her way lower to balance herself just below his knees and reached her hands upward toward his waist. As she slid her fingers beneath the waistband of the briefs, he obligingly raised himself up from the bed to allow her to pull them over his hips. She moved even further down the bed, taking them with her and eventually completely off as she stood at the foot of the bed.

Without a word, she took a few steps to one side and carefully tied his right ankle to the bedpost. Sergei whimpered, involuntarily of course, as he realized that she intended to make him completely immobile, but he said nothing. And he remained still. It made him apprehensive, but it also made him hot. Maggie tilted her head to one side, ignoring everything but the knot she'd tied. For what she had in mind, she knew that he'd probably be doing a great deal of struggling and it wouldn't do to have something come untied. It would spoil the moment.

"Pull," she said for the second time that night, and Sergei did as she said, pulling and again meeting with incredible resistance. When she'd done the other leg and again was satisfied that everything would hold, she stood back to proudly admire her work, quickly kicking a book back under the bed. She would, of course, thank the publishers later when she had seen for herself that their suggested knots hadn't come untied.

Sergei lay more or less still, not that he had much of a range of movement even if he'd wanted to. His arms and legs were each tied to a bedpost, making a large x across the bed. Maggie had been thoughtful to, for the time being, leave a pillow under his head, raising it slightly at an angle with which, had he not been blindfolded, he'd have been able to see most of what was going on. Now, however, he saw only darkness although he was almost certain that Maggie was smiling to herself and staring at him with the lascivious look she got in her eyes sometimes, especially after she'd had a few too many glasses of wine with her dinner.

And Sergei was indeed right. Maggie was standing at the end of the bed, letting her eyes wander over his body. There was no doubt that Sergei was nervous. You could see that in the tenseness in his muscles and the occasional shiver that Maggie was fairly sure wasn't just from the air conditioner. He was breathing a little faster than usual, too. But not only was she indulging herself, she was also giving him time to get used to his position, letting him decide if this was something he could handle or not. If she'd never before had a mental picture to carry along with the word vulnerable, she certainly had one now.

She couldn't see his eyes but she was certain that if she could, they would be as blue as ever and sparkling brightly. Although there would be a little fear in them, it would only be a bit, more afraid of not knowing what might happen than of her specifically. He was breathing through his mouth, rapidly, and he swallowed anxiously. Maggie grinned to herself as she stared at him. For the most part, he didn't move, but every now and then, he would lick his lips or fidget, his fingers twitching.

His arms, stretched above his head, were tanned from days outside by the pool, swimming or sitting or watching Maggie dive. A little thinner than one would expect but still very obviously strong, Maggie could see the muscles flex nervously, biceps curving to meet his broad shoulders. He was beginning to sweat a bit; she could see it glistening on his chest, which was stretched tightly, regardless of his position. Her eyes traveled lower to his stomach, over his hips, down is thighs. His legs were long proportionately, and unmistakably powerful. Every muscle in his body was incredibly defined, and even tied up, he still looked stronger than anyone Maggie had ever known before. And all that strength means nothing for now, she thought, her grin widening to a frightening width. All that strength and he's completely helpless, completely under my control.

But her eyes finally came to rest just below his waist. She clasped her hands behind her back and took a few steps forward to stand beside the bed and look down at him, between his legs. She wondered if she'd ever really examined him this carefully before. His skin was pale, contrasting with his summer tan, silky to touch. The thick shaft, long and smooth, joined the large, mushroom-shaped head, a single drop of fluid at the tip.

She folded her arms in front of her and just stared at him. Wanting to know his thoughts on the matter, she cleared her throat. "How do you feel?" Sergei didn't answer right away and Maggie realized he was probably scared to say a word. She chuckled a bit to herself. "It's okay, you can answer me. You have my permission."

"N-nervous" was the response. Sergei felt every muscle in his body shaking slightly with anticipation. Maggie unfolded her arms and rested her hands lightly on her hips.

"Is that all?" she asked in a somewhat patronizing voice. She was certain that wasn't all, and she was also certain that she was going to make Sergei say it himself.

"No," he replied. Maggie walked slowly to the bed and perched on the edge, leaning very close to Sergei, close enough so that Sergei was able to feel the heat from her body.

"What else, then?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Sergei shivered at the sound of her voice and the feel of her breath against his neck. He swallowed hard and his fingertips twitched just a bit. Maggie raised her eyebrows and remained silent, waiting. She could be far more patient than he could, especially in this situation. Finally, he spoke.

"Excited."

She shook her head, mainly for her own benefit and sighed. "If I wanted you to speak in generalities, I would have told you. Excited in what way? I want to hear you tell me exactly how you feel." She narrowed her eyes but raised one eyebrow, the expression she usually got when she knew she had the upper hand.

And Sergei, although he was blindfolded, was certain himself that she was wearing that look and wearing it well. His nerves were beginning to settle finally, and he had the sudden urge to laugh. "In what way? Look at me!" he blurted and the shock of the sentence made Maggie lose her dominating demeanor abruptly as she burst into a fit of laughter. Not what she'd wanted to do at all, but she wasn't upset. She wasn't too upset.

Sergei wasn't laughing on the outside, but he was grinning on the inside. He was into this whole-heartedly now, especially after hearing her laugh genuinely. Knowing that she was definitely still the same sweet Maggie beneath all this dissolved the remaining apprehension and he began to relax as Maggie caught her breath and her laughter faded. She cleared her throat, trying to find her in-charge tone again.

"Funny. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook. I want you to tell me how you feel," she said.

Sergei thought for a moment. Finally, he decided, "Very... very... hot."

Maggie's eyes lit up as an idea crossed her mind suddenly. She grinned glibly, internally praising herself for her new idea. If he didn't want to get specific, she'd make him regret it. "Hot, huh? This makes you hot? Being here with me, all tied up and helpless?" she asked in an innocent tone of voice. Sergei's pulse sped up.

"Yes," he breathed and Maggie stood.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that," she said, suddenly brisk. "I'll be back." With that, Sergei heard her walk out of the room, down the hall, and then down the stairs. His heart sped up a little then. What if she left him there? No, she would never do that, but somebody could conceivably walk in. He wasn't sure if he'd want to even try to explain this. Instead, he lay there - and that was really the only thing he could do, and waited for Maggie to come back.

In the kitchen, Maggie took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water, drinking a few sips before she poured out the majority of the water and filled the glass with ice cubes instead. She gave the glass a jovial little shake, smiling to herself as she heard the ice cubes clink together, and walked back upstairs, taking her time so as not to move the glass enough to rattle the cubes. This was going to be a surprise.

She stepped back into the room and, mostly out of habit, shut the door behind her. Sergei let out an inaudible sigh of relief. Not that he'd ever thought she'd abandon him, but he was relieved just the same. She sat down lightly on the side of the bed once more and looked at him sweetly.

"You're curious, aren't you? You're just dying to know what I was doing," she said, more like stating a fact than asking a question. Sergei made no effort to respond but simply swallowed again and shifted his position as best he could. Maggie chuckled. "Do you want to know?" she asked.

Sergei nodded at last and Maggie lifted the glass, shaking the glass just a little. The ice cubes clattered together, sounding vaguely like wind chimes, and Sergei took a sharp breath. Maggie grinned enormously, pleased beyond belief at his response.

"Mmm hmm," she said, sounding very satisfied. "Ice."

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