Shared Between Them Is On Sale!
Until the end of the month, Shared Between Them will be on-sale for $2.99 at the following stores! Don’t miss out!
Read more info & a sample of Shared Between Them HERE.
I’m over at Katherine Deane’s blog today, where Natasha, Katherine and I are talking about the differences between fantasy and reality. Writing the two genres is amazingly different and the struggles are very different, using my Otherworldly Discipline and Natasha’s Aching To Submit as examples. Each genre you choose to write has pitfalls that you might not even be aware of until you’re hip-deep in writing, so it’s always good to look at some of the pros and cons.
Also, we’re talking about reality of spanking relationships verse those you read about. I won’t ruin the surprise, but it was a really fun sort of interview to do. Thanks so much to Katherine for inviting us over to her place to gab!
Hi everyone!
So, James and I were co-hosting a huge weekend-long bash at Shadowlane, and I have so much to share about everything that’s happened this summer. It’s spankalicious–seriously, I’ve been trudging knee-deep in the spanking community, so keep your ear to the track. Until then, I talk about post-BBW ageplaying with my husband over at Spanking Romance, run by Renee Rose. All those curious about kink exploration, come and join in! 🙂
Hi Guys!
I’m stoked! My newest book, Being Their Baby, is doing very well and I’m #29 in Amazon’s Erotica Category at the moment (#737 in Kindle overall)! Whoot! Thanks so much for all your support, you guys! I really give my warmest thanks to everyone who’s bought that book!
Today, I’m over at Natasha Knight’s blog (Natasha Knight is amazingly awesome and a very talented author so I was so proud to be invited over to her blog) talking about how fun Being Their Baby was to write. Go come by and leave a comment!
At least it’s on the way to my editor. 🙂 Oy, talking about a book that did not end how I thought it was going to when I started it! I just wanted a short, spicy, menage story with lots of humiliation stuff in it, hot sex, and some spankings… I didn’t expect it to be 55,000 words long. Strange enough, the first 30 came fast, then I had trouble deciding where it was going to go for like… a month or so… And then James read what I had, told me what to do, and BAM. That last week, I added the rest.
It was actually sort of fun since my husband has never given me “the author treatment” before, where he read what I had and took notes on what I should change, etc. His notes were absolutely fantastic! I had to re-write the first 5,000 words, but it was worth it. I’m happy with the way it turned out!
In the story we’ve got menage, spanking, discipline, anal punishment, anal sex, consensual and non-consensual sex, forced-marriage, double-penetration, sexual teasing, dirty talk, name-calling, humiliation play, and lots of action scenes. It’s coming out next week and I’ll tell you all some more.
WHAT NOW?
Well, my mother-in-law is coming in town this weekend which means I should probably start cleaning the house about now-ish… And then? Ageplay. I have Princess Babygirl to finish up, I already wrote the first 25,000 words so I’m already halfway done. After that, I’ll finish Otherworldly Discipline, Book Two. 🙂 I’m on a roll; don’t worry, I’m writing my fanny off, folks, and I’m bubbling with ideas! James and I have even been discussing the plot of “Swarii Brides, Book Three”!
As always, thanks so much for stopping by and giving me your support. I really appreciate all your loves!
Alright, this definitely goes in the “Shameless Self-Promotion” section. But, screw it. I can go with pompous for a weekend or so.
Learning to Blush has already made it to the Top 100 in Amazon’s Fantasy and Futuristic Romance section. Since it’s my favorite section, and I actually recognize the names around me, I’m completely excited by this accomplishment. I mean, right now, I’m beating out a Kresley Cole book on the ranking list (one that’s been out for years, but still)…
For those of you that don’t know, Learning to Blush is your not-so-average space adventure: it has action, BDSM, spanking, anal, medical fetish stuff, fated mate, romance, and tons of antics by the Jonas clan, who could take any fraternity in the country back to school with their loyalty, their work ethic, and their love of a good time.
I’m glad people are buying it, anyway! If you bought it… Review it for me, will ya? 🙂 I eat those like cake… And they help me sell even more, so it’s a two-fer!
Finally out on Amazon and Blushing Books (B&N coming soon), Learning to Blush: The Swarii Brides, Book Two is available to anyone looking for scifi spanking goodness. I’ve been really, really fortunate so far and people are taking the book, on the whole, like I meant it to be: an exciting adventure packed full of spankings that weren’t too contrived but well deserved by the ladies who got them.
Learning to Blush was a novel I loved thinking about, love having written, but man-oh!-man did I hate writing it at the time. I joke that it was akin to having birth. I meant it to be a 55 thousand word jaunt like Never Submit! and it ended up twice that long, filled with SEVERAL escapades that brought about the conclusion of the Swarii-Frian Wars.
I’m really excited about this novel because Thorton was SO difficult to write. You don’t know how many times I had to re-write this book to get this guy laid. He kept sticking his foot in his mouth, Penny kept getting offended, Thorton kept going from being too pushy, too possessive, to too stand-offish. It’s like the character didn’t want to procreate or something. So, this was a labor of love. (Apparently, I’m one of those authors that let the characters mold them more than the other way around.)
Thorton made me proud. He’s sort of a Riddick-type character (actually, he looks a lot like Vin Deisel. Not as tall as anyone else, but he’s bad-ass and strong enough that you wouldn’t notice), he’s an amazing fighter, easily frustrated, and always has a thing to say to piss a woman off yet underneath is a guy full of pain and angst and loss. He’s a screw-ball who you call a screw-up, yet he’s the type of guy who would help you bury a body, no questions asked.
Penny, on the other hand, I drew from real-life off of many of my vanilla friends from college. Smart as all get-out, but stubborn as hell with a slutty side that cannot be tamped down. She’s also in the lookout for love, because as pretty as she is, she’d been extremely neglected (and even slightly abused) by her parents and just needs to be held and appreciated as being something other than a piece of meat.
And, back again, is spritely Ellie–the same smack-talking girl from the last book, filled with spunk and eager to prove her stuff and win the war. This time, she’s not alone. She’s naughty as ever, sure, but now she has her brother and two twin cousins to back up her hair-brained schemes (okay, these guys were fun to write, they never gave me any flak).
I hope you’ll love the naughty antics they all get into in this spicy sci-fi erotica! Read the first chapter here!
Hear ye, hear ye–two totally awesome medieval stories are available at Amazon.com!
This is really exciting–not because it’s my first medieval–but because I had the opportunity to do a combo-book with the extremely talented Renee Rose, who’s writing will just knock your socks off! Her work is absolutely amazing, and she’s so professional to work with.
Also, and this is going to sound sort of bizarre, this is my first story published by Stormy Night Publications… That’s right. The company I own hasn’t published anything by me yet. Certainly, that’s because I’m a slow, slow writer. (Mind you, I have two more books coming out in February, and one other book (Learning to Blush) coming out this month, but that’s totally a fluke). I always have a million things going at the same time, so I tend to get a bunch of things done at once. I sort of have ADD–a special kind that’s mostly related to writing. Let’s cal it WADD.
What about the story “Claiming the Liar”? It said you finished it, then poof! Disappeared! WTF?
Until the cover’s made, everything is tentatively titled. “Claiming the Liar” had been retitled to “Quite Decided”, which is part of this very set! So, don’t worry. I didn’t mess with you guys. Just changed the title. I fought for it, too, but James said “Nu-uh,” and you know. I do what James says for the most part.
So, really. How did you get Renee to work with you? Doesn’t she know you’re a spaz?
Nope, she doesn’t know that I’m a spaz. I can suck it in and fool people into thinking I can even tie my own shoelaces, and I’m sure that’s why she agreed. 🙂 But seriously, Renee was so nice for agreeing to do a combo with me. Thanks so, so much Renee!
What’s it about, then? Man, are you bad at advertising or what?
Right. I guess you might want the whole… info… don’t you? Well, here you go!
UNDER SIEGE BY RENEE ROSE
For Lady Camilla, the only thing worse than managing Falconworth castle on her own would be her overlord discovering that she is a widow and marrying her off to his wretched nephew. Keeping her husband’s death a secret is a top priority, right up there with ensuring that troops from a rival castle don’t break down her curtain wall gate with their battering ram.
Yet when a devilishly handsome knight by the name of Sir Balen rides to her rescue, she is reluctant to turn over the control she has become accustomed to wielding. The attraction between them is palpable, but his arrogant assumption of the position and duties of her late husband irritates her, especially because those duties seem to include spanking her bare bottom!
Can she swallow her pride and propose the marriage which she knows would be best for all involved, or will her stubbornness cost her and the people of Falconworth dearly?
QUITE DECIDED BY KOREY MAE JOHNSON
When eighteen-year-old Wenda discovers that she is to be married off to a nobleman easily old enough to be her grandfather, she concocts a desperate plan to avoid that fate. Lord Talus, who was like an older brother to her growing up, will marry her instead—she is quite decided on it.
The only problem with this plan is the fact that Talus refuses it outright. Wenda has grown into a beautiful woman, but he has known her since she was a child and he cannot bring himself to expose her to the dark, hungry, sexual side of him which she would see as his wife.
Talus underestimates the lengths to which Wenda will go to carry out her plan, however, and he finds a marriage with her forced upon him by false allegations that he has stolen her maidenhood in the night. For her part Wenda soon learns, to her dismay, that her new husband is well within his rights to bare his young wife’s bottom and chastise her firmly for her scheming. Moreover, he intends to thoroughly enjoy every curve of her beautiful body once he feels the time is right to have his way with his new bride.
Publisher’s Note: Lords and Ladies contains two erotic novellas which include both consensual and non-consensual spankings, graphic sexual scenes, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
At long last, Otherworldly Discipline is available for more than just to members on Bethany’s Woodshed, where this story was originally published.
But you get more than the members do. For one, this story was heavily edited and clarified. Secondly, it has a bonus chapter included to the next book of the series!
As far as anyone could tell, Charlotte was the last Byndian witch left alive, and only one wizard knew the secrets to the magic of her nearly extinct race. That wizard was Ashcroft the Archivist, one of the hardest working wizards in existence… which was really too bad, because Charlotte was probably the laziest witch in the universe.
When a handsome, smooth-talking wizard by the name of Lachlan presents Charlotte with an opportunity to sidestep centuries of study under Ashcroft, she gladly takes it… without telling Ashcroft of course. She quickly regrets her bargain as she learns more about Lachlan, and discovers that he is a mortal enemy of Ashcroft.
Even aside from the fact that she signed a contract with a dark wizard without reading it, she regrets her decision because she has slowly come to love learning under Ashcroft’s firm guidance, even though that firm guidance is often applied via his hard hand on her bare bottom. For his part, Ashcroft has cast propriety to the winds and fallen in love with his beautiful, feisty student.
When Lachlan returns to collect what he is owed under the contract, Charlotte learns that the price she unwittingly agreed to pay for her ill-gained knowledge is far higher than she could have ever imagined, and her world is turned upside down. Will Ashcroft find a way to save Charlotte so that he can someday scandalize the Wizard’s Circle by marrying his apprentice, or will he lose her forever?
Publisher’s Note: This story has been edited since it’s original publication on Bethany’s Woodshed and also includes the first (bonus of an extra length of 6,000 words bringing the total to 94,000 words) chapter of the second book in the Otherworldly Discipline Series!
Also, please keep in mind that this story contains graphic sex and anal punishment (figging) as well as non-consensual spankings. If such subject matter might offend you, please don’t purchase this title.
This was actually one of my favorite stories to write. It came out of my brain very quickly, and the characters actually got along like they were supposed to from the get-go, even though I was so indecisive about what plot I wanted to use for it.
Originally, I planned this story to have a very different plot: the main girl was originally living in a wizard-torn human world on the down-low as a well-hunted fugitive, hiding from her own race. Ashcroft was a wizard she was trading with for supplies, who she didn’t trust either, and Ashcroft was stuck in the dangerous Otherworld because the other wizards banished him there. Moriarty was originally a werewolf, not a werefox (Huxian), but that being said, Ashcroft was still a patient yet exasperated teacher, Moriarty was always his rakish, snarky servant, and Charlotte always had the attention span of a knat.
I can’t wait until the plot of this completed version, which is completely different, continues to unfoil in the second of the series. We’re also excited to see how “Fantasy” sells to know if we should publish more of it in the future.
Buy This Story in Print (Coming soon!)
Buy this Story on B&N (Coming soon!)
Yay! I’m pretty much done with Learning to Blush. Deep down I’d love someone to read it over and do another edit for me, but so much has changed since the original version that was released on Bethany’s Woodshed. For one, I added another 4,000 words, took out whole scenes and added new ones.
But NOW it’s ready. I feel much, much better about it–I wasn’t at first. I had to work out some kinks and do some fine-tuning. I hope to have the new version on Bethany’s Woodshed this Thursday, too.
For now, the cover is finished, too. Whoot!
Learning to Blush: Swarii Brides, Book Two by Korey Mae Johnson
Year Published: Coming in 2013
Book Length: 106,239 words, 16 chapters
Summary: After years of neglect and having only some crazy siblings and cousins to fall in with, Penny Jonas eked out a position in her small Oregon community as the town tramp at the early age of eighteen. She hasn’t been anywhere or done much of anything except maybe hacked into a couple (hundred) computer systems.
Life doesn’t seem too interesting, even when her cousin, Ellie, had disappeared two years before. It didn’t become interesting until Ellie showed up again under mysterious circumstances, out of nowhere, with a strange and hardly believable story.
After two very large and stunningly handsome men with six fingers show up at their door, one extremely unwilling to touch her at all, Penny’s world starts to crumble. An evil alien force has followed the two men to the planet, Penny and her kin end up in a spaceship of their own.
So, the handsome, single man is an alien? Strangely, that’s not the largest rift between them as they fall in love. Penny finds that being in outer-space is far more treacherous than the Oregon boonies. Sometimes it seems like it’s impossible to survive at all.
Can she last through the hardships ahead? Can she find a place in this New World, or will she find herself in the arms of her trouble-yet-fated mate?
Hi All,
So… You know that month-long hiatus I took last month? It was mostly because I was writing a Christmas story for Spanking Romance, which is a membership right that posts a fully-complete novella every week. I took a turn with a Christmas story called “Christmas Awakening”. I would be THRILLED if you would join up and read the rest with one of our month-long memberships.
OR… Pursuit of Glory has only sold 26 copies so far on RomanticSpankings.com… C’mon, guys! I PROMISE it’s good, okay? Please, please, please! Buy it? It’s only 6 bucks for a WHOLE LOT of story!
Here’s the sneak peak of Christmas Awakening:
Chapter One
Jack Fawkes sighed as he pulled into Maggie’s driveway with a Christmas wreath on the front seat next to him. He looked down at it as if the dead, festive tree-branch was mocking him. The truth was that he just didn’t feel very Christmasy; he was religious and respected the holiday’s importance — for the sake of the townsfolk he found himself even pretending to be into the holiday spirit.
He was lonely, and he was in his thirties, and he was about to get snubbed by Joanna Menard when he walked into the house — he just knew it. With any other girl, some snobbery wouldn’t move him at all. He was the town Sherriff and was used to being known as the ‘bad guy’. But Joanna had a way about her that made him feel two feet tall — which he was sure was her plan.
“Time to get it over with,” he said, grabbing the wreath as he left his car.
Maggie liked him, though. In fact, Maggie was a surrogate mother to him while he was in his teens. When his mother was fighting cancer, and eventually died from it, she was always there to make sure his father, his brother, and he didn’t die of starvation. She would also snoop enough to make sure he and his brother didn’t get into any amount of regrettable trouble, which he appreciated even today — hence the wreath.
He knocked on the door and put on a grin in preparation for the door being answered. He could hear the sound of someone coming near. Then, he heard a muffled voice say, “Oh, Lord. It’s him.”
“Who?” was a much more distant, nearly inaudible, answer.
“Jack.”
“Well, answer it and lead him back here. I’m elbow deep in cookie dough!”
The door’s lock clicked and the door opened wide, revealing Jo, who was more gorgeous than ever with her glassy emerald eyes and her long, dark brown hair draped over both shoulders. Despite it being mid-morning, she was still in a black t-shirt, flannel pajama bottoms, and huge slippers that resembled milk cows. Her expression was even less welcoming than her outfit, however, and she seemed to groan through her eyes.
“Hi,” she said wearily.
“Hey Jo,” he replied with a friendly grin. “Nice slippers,” he teased lightly, looking for some sort of conversation that might make her smile.
“Nice hat,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She didn’t even have to gesture to the fluffy flap-hat he was wearing. She stepped aside to let him inside the house, closing the door behind him.
“It is nice,” he assured, trying to take anything she told him with a light attitude. “It’s warm. It’s perfect. Don’t know what I’d do without it.”
“I’m sure your life feels very complete,” she droned, rolling her eyes as she turned away from him and began to walk towards the kitchen. “She’s this way,” she informed over her shoulder.
He struggled to take off his shoes and said, “So, you done with college?” He was desperate to make any sort of conversation with her.
“Yeah,” she answered, standing still so that he could catch up to her lead. “Art degree managed.”
“4.0!” her aunt called from the kitchen proudly.
“Wow,” he said, genuinely impressed. “Great job,” he encouraged with a grin.
Jo blushed and looked away from him again. “It’s just an art degree,” she shrugged. “And it took me four and a half years to get it,” she said as if it lessened the achievement. “It’s no big deal.”
“Do you know what you want to do now?”
Jo turned to him slowly, putting on a robotic-like stare.
In actuality, Jo couldn’t get over why he was asking these questions at all, except to either mock her or be polite. In essence, she had ended and disregarded all of their past friendly relationship, and felt he had to be relieved by her doing so. Why was he set on continuing to waste her time with automaton questions? “No,” she answered, and led him into the kitchen. She opened her arms and presented him like she was selling a new appliance to her old aunt, who was balling up cookie dough into balls. “There he is! Now, I’m off to the shower. If I don’t come back in an hour, send a search party.”
Crestfallen inwardly, Jack simply watched as Jo shuffled silently out of the room without so much as a ‘goodbye’.
“Merry Christmas, Jack,” Maggie said, her face bright with smiles and wrinkles. She walked over to him with her arms outstretched and tried to hug this man who was easily a foot taller than she was.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, picking up the wreath and waving it. “Or, Merry Christmas in three days, I should say.” He winked at her playfully.
She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Excellent! Thanks so much! Put it on the table. I’d take it, but I’m sticky with cookie dough.”
“Well, thanks for hugging me then,” he teased.
She waved at him dismissively. “I didn’t get you,” she assured with a chiding smirk. “How are you these days? You haven’t visited in two weeks now!
“Yeah, well… I wanted Jo to become situated before I came up,” he admitted, looking over at the kitchen island where a large scattering of several different types of cookies sat.
She watched him scavenge for food with interest for a moment before she said, “You know, Jo’s single and here for awhile… Why don’t you try asking her out? Maybe for a cup of coffee or something?”
He chuckled. So, Maggie could tell that he was interested in her niece. He wasn’t too surprised. Maggie always seemed able to read someone’s intentions in a matter of seconds. He was never able to lie to her. “Because she might take a swing at me!” He stole a cookie and took a big bite. Afterwards, he walked towards the fridge and took out some milk — just like he used to do as a teenager — eat and run. But Maggie, for whatever the reason, liked it.
“She’s interested,” Maggie enlightened with a quiet voice. “Oh, she’s too stubborn to admit it. But I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
“Like I’m diseased?” he said with a full mouth, unable to let what Maggie was trying to say penetrate his skin. There was simply no way Jo was interested in him, as painful as it was to swallow, and all the wishful thinking in the world from her aunt wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. “No, I’m afraid I ruined it.”
“If you’re suggesting that she won’t talk to you because once upon a time you spanked her, you’ve got another thing coming,” Maggie assured firmly, trying to accentuate her seriousness by pointing a chunk of cookie dough at him. “You hurt her feelings somehow. She holds onto a grudge, but she never stopped liking you. I think you just have to be… a little persistent. Look, you need to come over and woo her. Try to crack that hard shell of hers. I’m not telling you that you have to be nice, either. But sincere and honest won’t hurt. She’s smart, but she can be as thick as a brick. As can you.”
Reaching for a second cookie, he said, “I don’t know, Maggie. I think you’re seeing something that just isn’t there,” he admitted, then sucked air through his teeth as she snapped him on the back of his hand with a wooden spoon.
“Don’t be a pig,” she said. “I’m sending Jo to deliver cookies today. You’re on the list,” she promised. “Why don’t you come up and have Christmas dinner with the Ruarks, Jo and me?”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Hm, well… As much as I like your next door neighbors, Mag, the feeling’s not exactly mutual since last week, when I busted little Kevin with a DWI. That would create a little bit of awkwardness, I’d say.”
She rolled her eyes. “You just are no good at politics, Jack,” she said with a grin, shaking her head. “But you’re a good boy.”
“Maggie — I’m thirty two,” Jack reminded with good humor.
“Oh, God! I feel so old,” Maggie sighed exasperatedly.
“I wouldn’t worry about me being anywhere for Christmas, anyway,” he mentioned pessimistically. “I’m gonna be snowed in, supposedly. So are you, in fact. You’ll be able to make it to the Ruarks, but not into town, for certain. Remember? I’ve told you before–we’ve got reports of a huge ice and snow storm heading our way. We’ll be buried so if you need to do something, make sure it’s done before mid-afternoon. That’s when it’s gonna hit.”
“You don’t have to work?” she asked, or rather, hoped. Like a mother, she worried incessantly about Jack, and she would only worry more if he had to drive roads in horrible conditions in the middle of nowhere; ambulances were famous for not even making trips up to the mountain during storms. It was as if the town would be cut off from the world.
“No. I have the day off,” he said, though he didn’t sound too happy about it.
“Well, maybe some time to yourself is what you need this year, Jack,” Maggie mentioned wisely. “I think you need to do some soul-searching, Honey. I know you’re unhappy.”
He was suddenly getting uncomfortable about how pensive Maggie was getting in her old age. “I’m happy. Perfectly, wonderfully gaga about life,” he exaggerated, wishing with all his might it was true.
She sighed and raised an eyebrow. Finally, she just threw her hands in the air as if she surrendered. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep out of it,” she promised. “It’s your life…”
“That’s right,” he said with a nod. “It’s my life…. And my cookie.” He mischievously snatched his hand out and grabbed a cookie before she could react. Then he walked over and kissed her on the cheek before he turned to leave, shoving the cookie in his mouth as he did so. “Merry Christmas if I don’t see you ’til after. Call me if you have any emergencies,” he offered, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t. Maggie’s house was stable, her pantries were stocked better than most castles, and although she had a bad hip, she had close neighbors and a niece to ease up her chores and keep her from hurting herself.
He knew that she was right, though — he did need to do some soul-searching over the break. His life wasn’t turning out like he hoped it would. He became Sherriff when he was twenty-eight, but it didn’t seem like he had progressed much after that. He needed a big change; he just didn’t know what that was going to be. That was simply going to have to be his Christmas Wish—if such a thing existed—figuring out what that change was going to be.
* * *
Jo stood motionlessly in the shower, deep in thought, just letting the hot water flow over her.
Whenever she saw Jack she could barely think of anything else for a long time. She hated how her emotions were so conflicting. On the one hand, she didn’t want anything to do with him, on the other, she thought he was the most gorgeous, wonderful man alive.
She figured most of the things that made her nearly swoon when she saw him were only emotional remnants of her past. Before she was eighteen, she thought the man walked on water. He was nearly ten years older than she was, and acted like he was twenty years older. When she was sixteen, it already seemed like Jack had his life figured completely out. He was fresh out of the military, after serving two terms, and it seemed like everything he did, and everything he said, was just good — pure and simple.
She wasn’t alone in her thinking, either. All the other girls in her high school felt the same way about him. It was impossible not to. Jack was tall, had a fine, chiseled body, a hard jaw line, sharp, piercing blue eyes… Everyone thought that he was all that is man.
And, out of all the girls in town, she was the one that got to see the most of him. Because of his connection to her aunt he seemed to take extremely kindly to her, and oozed attention on her. She figured now, that was because he was trying to help her get through the shock of her parents’ death — maybe because he related to it a little himself. His mother died when he was a teenager as well, and he was no stranger to grieving.
He spoiled her, which was exactly what she needed at the time. He would bring her thoughtful little gifts, take her out to movies, and drive her to Bend, Oregon to go shopping. He would even pick her up and drop her off at school constantly, making her the envy of every girl she knew.
She hadn’t been a good student before her parents’ car accident; she hadn’t been a good kid, actually. But Jack did seem to keep her focused — enough to get good enough grades for college. And her world had seemed more and more right every day, even though the high school crowd that existed in the small town was quite a rough bunch, and it was hard to stay out of trouble.
By the time she was a senior she was well liked enough to get invited to everything—every party, every camping trip, every concert. Maggie was oblivious, and she kept Jack, who was the town’s sheriff by then, as much at bay as she could. But the more she separated herself from him, the more suspicious he became.
Suspicious or not, and however much he seemed to be on her case, she loved it. And she came to realize that she was in love with him. And since she was at that age where everyone seemed to be hooking up in the back of old Chevy trucks, or underneath the football bleachers, she decided that she wanted Jack Fawkes to be her first — who else was more perfect? No one else was as appealing in any form, No one held the type of magic she felt Jack was capable of. And he spent so much time with her, she felt that she wasn’t too off-base in thinking along those lines.
The perfect opportunity to plan such an event was when her aunt left for a whole week in January of her senior year. There was no better time; she was eighteen, she was alone, she had a whole house to herself… There would be plenty of time to seduce Jack.
Of course, as soon as the rest of her friends got wind of the fact that she wouldn’t be inconvenienced by her Aunt’s watchful eye for a whole week, they got her to take up other interests as well. She had a lot of time on her hands, and she figured Jack simply couldn’t stop by half as often as she even wished he would. He worked, after all.
Maggie had left Saturday morning, and by Saturday afternoon her girlfriends and her were already hanging around the house with a cabinet full of liquor and a Ziploc full of weed; giggling with each other and talking about boys in their class. Until Jane actually called one of the boys, and in return, got them all invited to go up to the ski slopes with boys. They were expected to provide the booze, of course, which, thanks to Maggie not locking up the liquor cabinet, seemed like a pretty fair plan.
Just as they had hauled the cooler into the back of her aunt’s Chevy, however, the sound of tires at the bottom of the driveway made them all think incredibly sober thoughts, very quickly.
Jack strolled down the driveway with his hands in his pockets, but the closer he got, the more suspicious his expression became. Although she noted to herself that it was probably just paranoia brought on from being hammered, Jo felt that his blue eyes fixated on her a little too carefully.
“Hi, Jack!” she welcomed with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “How ya doin’?” she asked sing-songishly, tilting her head innocently and even batting her long eye lashes.
“Just checking on you,” he answered honestly, looking towards the house, and then looking back at them. “You girls off somewhere?”
Jo looked over at the girls — Jane and Mary swooned in silence for a moment before one of them answered shyly, “Yeah… We’re off to meet Russell and Peter at the slopes.”
“Sounds like fun,” he replied off-handedly, his eyes going from girl to girl. “You remembered to turn off the stove and everything, right?” he asked Jo as he started to walk towards the house. He turned his head over his shoulder as he asked, “And the heater?”
“”I forgot the heater.” Jo hiccupped once, but she passed it off smoothly by coughing. The girls were having trouble restraining a nervous giggle. “Can you turn it off for me, Jack? We’re kinda in a hurry.”
“Sure,” he said. “I’ll turn it off. But hold on,” Jack said from the front porch before disappearing into the house.
Mary and Jane looked over at Jo with extremely nervous expressions, despite their maniacal grins that they didn’t seem to be able to batten down inside themselves. “He’s alright,” Jo assured with a relaxed wave of her mitten. “He’s probably just coming back out to tell us to turn on the headlights and to wear our seatbelts.” Jo rolled her eyes, but added with adoration as she looked towards the house, “It’s like he thinks I’m five.”
The girls giggled, were now more at ease and began to file into the truck. Jack seemed to be in there for quite a few minutes before he came back out, just as Jo was checking which of the dozen pockets of her winter coat she might have left the keys in.
He walked right up to her driver’s side window and opened her door. And, with absolutely no pause about him, he reached across and took off her safety belt, fluidly yanking her out of the car by her upper arm. “Everybody out,” he ordered the other two girls, pointing at the far side of the car while he kept his hand tightly wrapped around Jo’s arm. He wheeled her over to the back of the truck just in time to meet the other girls there, who now had no smile about them at all, only nervous grimaces.
He released Jo roughly and opened the back of the Chevy. He reached into the truck with an angry grunting noise, grabbed the cooler inside, and dragged it toward him before opening it.
Jo hiccupped again, wondering if she had ever been so nervous or ashamed. She looked over at the girls, and although all their expressions conveyed anxiety, they also had a look of resolve to all of them that seemed to communicate that none of them were allowed to break down and admit to anything.
They watched silently as he opened the cooler, looked inside, then closed it again.
He heaved a loud, disappointed sigh before he slowly turned back around and crossed his arms, looking at them all accusingly, but especially Jo. “Well, Miss Menard? Do you have any amazingly riveting reason for having Maggie’s entire bar in that cooler?”
Red faced and guilty, Jo realized that she didn’t have the will to look him straight in the face. Her eyes lowered, instead, to the area around his navel.
“I didn’t think so,” he said. “Minor in possession?” He snorted and shook his head in disappointment. He held out his hand. “Give me the keys, Jo. I’m driving your friends home. Playdate over. Wherever you kids were going is not where you need to be.”
With an angry, thwarted huff, and finding no way to defy him, Jo checked her coat pockets again until she finally found the keys in her pants. She walked up to him and put the keys roughly into his open hand. It seemed like, very suddenly, his facial expression fell from disappointed to angry. Quick as a flash, he grabbed her coat and took a couple of hard sniffs of her. She blushed at the audacity, or from whatever it was she just did that tipped him off to investigate her further.
“Have you already been drinking?” he asked her warily.
“No,” she lied stoutly, glaring at him.”
“Do you want me to get my Breathalyzer?” he challenged further.
She could have sworn she heard one of the girls gulp, but she wasn’t too alarmed by the threat — she would have liked him to go search his car for his breathalyzer, if he even had it in there. She could have then had time to go behind a bush and use her very impressive gag-reflex to get rid of the evidence, eaten some snow, chewed a mint and been back in time to evade his wrath. “Go ahead,” she dared. “We haven’t been doing anything. We weren’t even going to drink it. We were going to watch the boys do it.”
“Uh huh,” he said disbelievingly, letting go of her jacket. His eyebrows went up for a long moment as he stared her down. She knew he was upset; there was a vein in his neck she had never seen before, and she hadn’t ever seen him lock his jaw like that. But then, he finally just pulled the arm of his jacket over his watch to look at it. “Alright. You’d better make it to ten. Stand on one foot… All of you.”
Jane and Mary definitely gulped this time.
“Ready?” he asked, eyeing them. Jo, unlike the other two girls, looked strongly confident. “Go. One—”
No one ever thinks they’d actually be drunk enough not to be able to stand on one foot for ten seconds. Jo, in particular, was specifically peppy about the challenge. Then, unfortunately, she realized how good of a test it was.
She couldn’t even balance herself to the ending of the word “one”. Whether Jane or Mary could have lasted longer was never discovered, because as soon as Jo failed, Jack grabbed the scruff of her jacket and hauled her over to the trunk of the Chevy.
Before she even knew what his intentions were, he had quickly and effectively unzipped the front of her pants, moving faster than she thought possible. Less than half a second later, she was draped bare-assed over his lap with a horror-struck expression on her face. When she looked for help from her friends, she could tell they weren’t even going to move, They were paralyzed with shock and guilty fascination.
He spanked with purpose, raising his hand high and bringing it down mercilessly upon her bare flesh as she squeaked and tried to buck and wiggle off of his lap for want of her life. Even now, she could still remember what he ranted while he put her tail aflame.
“You can think you’re put on this world to do whatever you want, Joanna Lynn Menard, but you will not drive drunk in my town. It makes me sick that as soon as your aunt leaves you alone for a second, you could think about throwing all that trust away and endanger your life and the lives of your friends!” By then, he had given her at least ten spanks, and it didn’t seem to her that he sounded like he was anywhere near done.
She was right; as soon as she put back one of her mitten-covered hands behind her in attempt to shield herself, she merely succeeded in getting her hand pinned to her lower back by his free hand.
“Please… Please stop! Stop this!” She was drunk, but well aware of how utterly humiliating it was to be chastised — not only like a small child, not only at eighteen years or age, but in front of two of her closest friends. Those friends, by the way, were completely worthless to her at the moment. They obviously weren’t even considering any sort of intervention. They looked more like they had been hit by a bolt of lightning, and were probably praying that they weren’t next.
Jack’s hand was very large, very strong, and did a very efficient job at causing her a whole lot of pain. She felt that she was unable to deal with the sort of pain she was receiving; she didn’t think she had ever been in so much of it. She couldn’t in a thousand years compare it to any sunburn she had ever had or with any scratch she had ever received. This pain was unbearable… and shocking… and lingering.
In no time at all, she was reduced to tears; she apologized. She apologized for everything else she had ever done—every lie, every prank she ever committed, ever being drunk at all. She promised, in fact, never to do anything else wrong for the rest of her life. Halfway through this pathetic pile of apologies, as if there were magic words out there that could make this assault stop, her cries went from sharp screams to breathy sobs, complete with eyefuls of tears.
It didn’t deter Jack. As she sobbed, he carried out at least fifteen more smacks before he helped her rise off of his strong knees, where she modestly turned quickly away from him to pull up her pants gingerly over her scalding flesh, still feeling unable to stop crying, or to take a normal breath.
She finally made eye contact with him, although she dreaded doing so, and found that there was absolutely nothing apologetic or even sympathetic about his expression. His face was hard as stone, with no remorse to be found anywhere about him. “I want you to keep out of trouble, you hear?” he said shallowly.
Wiping a mitten across her face to clean her tears off, she nodded.
“Alright. Say goodbye to your friends, get in the house and stay there until I get back. You and I are going to have a long talk about driving safely, little girl,” he informed, then watched as she turned to her friends, who were still stunned beyond words, with their faces as white as a sheet of paper…
Nearly five years later, the memory still made Jo’s cheeks blush. Though, she was in luck — neither Jane nor Mary ever told a soul about anything that had happened. They blamed not making it up to the slopes on a flat tire, and they had never brought it up with each other since.
That day, she went inside the house, locked the doors, and cried herself to sleep. Jack had come by, that she knew, because there was a blanket over her when she woke up. The next day, he came by, hoping that she would go to church with him. She refused. She vowed she would never go anywhere with him again.
She fell deaf to his explanations of why she deserved the spanking, and even Maggie, who Jack confessed the whole matter to, openly told her that she backed him up. But she was already too hurt to ever forgive him.
Jo’s dream was over that day. Not so much because of the embarrassment he caused, or even from the spanking itself — but because the spanking gave her traumatic insight into how he must have seen her. She had been Jack’s project; his charity case. He obviously viewed himself as more of a babysitter of her than even a friend. How could he love someone he viewed to be a child? Certainly, she decided, not in the way she wanted to be loved by him.
She felt how hard her nipples were getting at the memory, how heated her loins were, and groaned. The most horrible thing about the spanking memory was how it aroused her, how it excited her.
“What the hell’s wrong with me?” she snapped at herself, banging her head in frustration against the shower. How could such a thing have aroused her so much for so long? How could she have Jack in authority over her, but still have him see her romantically, and not like some kid?
You can’t, her mind informed her harshly. You can’t have both. And you shouldn’t like a chauvinistic, narcissistic, woman-beater like Jack Fawkes anyway. What’s the matter with you? Are you a masochist? No? Then get with the program!
It was then Jo realized that she had been so in thought that she had shampooed twice.
She sighed. This man will be the death of me.
Alright, y’all: I promised you a taste of spanking fiction. Here it is; it’s posted nowhere else… Of course, you’ll have to buy it to read the rest! Warm up on Chapter One as well!
Chapter Three
She looked up at the doctor for a second, who was obviously shocked by the revelation. Now, he looked even closer at her face than before. This wasn’t too surprising—the Weather family was quite well-known, particularly in Kingstown, so she thought nothing of it, but when she finally looked at the pale blue eyes of the ship’s captain—or admiral, rather, she understood he didn’t care for who she was one iota.
“What the devil are you doing here, girl?” snapped Logan Liam firmly, looking very unhappy to meet her acquaintance again.
She looked up from the ground at his angry eyes for a moment, but she didn’t know how to respond, so she looked back down at her small black slippers instead. “I just—” she began, very quietly.
“What, what?” he mocked sharply. “Speak up, Miss Weather. I’m sure your excuse will be quite entertaining for everyone.”
“I didn’t know whose ship I was getting on to,” she assured snappishly, not liking being talked to in this way, particularly because Logan Liam was not her father. Her blushing cheeks and angry stare gave away her embarrassment from his mockery.
He was coming up with a furious response to her excuse, she could tell, but his mate interrupted it. “Should we give the standard punishment for stowaways, Sir?” Caldwell asked professionally.
If Logan even considered giving her the ‘standard punishment,’ he didn’t look like he had. In fact, he looked like he was quite agitated that Caldwell had even mentioned it. He looked at him as if he had told an ill-timed, unappreciated joke. “Yes, Mr. Caldwell. Standard punishment. Let’s take the High General Weather’s daughter, bare her, and whip her hard enough to spatter some of her blood about the deck.”
Caldwell bit his lip and motioned for soldiers to take her arms. Renny’s eyes widened and she tried to scramble backwards. Logan sighed exasperatedly and snapped, “I was being facetious, Mr. Caldwell.” It amazed him that a man serving under him for ten years couldn’t tell when he was and wasn’t being serious.
Renny calmed immediately, though she seemed to understand that her sin was quite serious by the way she hung her head.
“We are gentlemen, Mr. Caldwell. We will act like gentlemen.” Logan looked into Renny’s inquisitive eyes, which were looking for some sort of forgiveness and acceptance that she would not be getting out of him. “See that Miss Weather is taken down to my cabin, and give her anything she requires.” With that, the admiral disappeared back to wherever he came from.
Caldwell cleared his throat, looking quite put out from the admiral talking down to him so, but straightened himself and turned to the doctor. “Is she alright, Sir?” he asked her.
“Hm?” said the doctor, looking very distracted before he settled himself. “Oh, yes, she’s well. She’ll be even better with some good sleep and some water.” He looked at her very directly for a second, but then turned away without another word.
Caldwell sighed, and offered his hand to help Renny into standing. “If you would follow me, Miss Weather?”
Feeling her legs stretch both painfully and happily under her, she slid off of her seat and allowed herself to be escorted down to the captain’s cabin.
As Logan finished his checks and duties, Renny never for a moment escaped his thoughts. Half the time, when thinking of her, his jaw locked in frustration, and other times he found himself quite pleased. At least she wasn’t discovered the night before—he hardly had a rash thought in his head reserved for the company of women. But still he didn’t like that he would now have to make sure that she was protected and well provided for. Henry LaNosse, the doctor on the ship, would no doubt help him—after all, he used to be a Weather, and was Sirius’ eldest, but he could tell that neither of them had recognized each other, and it was hardly a time for family reunions.
The fact was Logan didn’t like women aboard ships—especially ships of war. There was too much danger, particularly in battle where women were helpless and vulnerable. It would be more awful if they were defeated and Renny’s virginity was taken by a lowly, lusty sailor. The thought enraged him and he told himself that Renny could, under no circumstances, be harmed or even touched, not even by him. He would give the young noble woman back to her close family in one piece, whether he died doing it or not.
Finally, grumbling to himself, he told his mate that he would be in his cabin for the rest of the evening.
When Admiral Liam entered his cabin and looked about, he was startled by not seeing her immediately and was on his way back out to call a search for her before he heard a hum across the room. It suddenly came to his attention that a privacy screen had been put up. He walked closer to it where he noticed, with much delight, he could vaguely see Renny’s silhouette behind the sheet, running a sponge over her body.
He knew it wasn’t appropriate to watch her, but the old sailor in him couldn’t help enjoying it. “You seem a little too happy,” he observed, standing close to the sheet, secretly hoping to see more of her.
“Ecstatic would be a more appropriate word for it,” she admitted proudly. Obviously unable to notice that she could be even slightly seen through the sheet, she began to wash her hair from the bowl of soap and freshwater she had been given. “It feels so good being able to clean myself. It was so hot in that barrel.”
He raised a concerned eye, even though he knew she wouldn’t be able to see it. “I’m sure it was. I hate to hear of any discomforts you have had to bear, Miss Weather, but—” he wanted to let her know that her happiness was not going to be long-lived, and that unless an astonishingly good reason was given for sneaking onto the ship in the horrible way she had, he was going to have to chastise her viciously, making being outside of the hot barrel also discomforting.
“Could I ask you to hand me my dress, Admiral? I’ve laid it out on your bed, which might as well be in another world for all the good it does me over there,” she interrupted with a light chuckle as he watched her silhouette wringing out her soft curls.
He sighed, hating to be treated like a female servant, but he found himself grabbing the garment and carefully bringing it over to her. She looked around the edge of the sheet and grabbed her dress with a sprightly expression on her face as if she expected to see him in good humor. Her smile faded as soon as she saw how stern he looked—in fact, he looked exactly as he did at the meeting; as if she shouldn’t have been there.
She suddenly looked completely unsure of herself. “Thank you,” she murmured very quietly and sincerely as her head disappeared behind the sheet again to finish dressing. She heard the admiral pace about before the pacing stopped and she heard him take a deep breath, cueing that he was about to begin a lecture.
“I am sorry for boarding. I didn’t know which ship I was going on,” she tried to explain before he could start haranguing her. “I just heard that this one was headed for Brinland.” She stepped out from behind the sheet, looking quite ready to be yelled at with her toes pigeon and her hands behind her back. Though there was still nothing about her that looked submissive other than her stature since her eyes were so tightly fixed on his own, as if reminding him that she wasn’t one to be intimidated.
“That’s just the danger, Miss Weather,” snapped Logan. “Any other captain would have surely cut open your skin with the cat by now, not giving a fig who you are or who your father is.” He put his hand over his eyes. “Good lord, it could have been days before anyone would have gone in that room—it was for back stock. You might have well been dead before we found you, if not very dead,” he continued to lecture.
“I obviously didn’t think barrels could seal so tightly,” she defended haughtily. “I thought I would be able to get out at my leisure.”
“Well, you thought wrong, didn’t you, Miss Weather?” he snapped fiercely. He shook his head, suddenly horrified by an image of her decaying body being found when his shipmates were all out of tobacco. What on earth would he have told her father? Oh, Gods. Her father. “Where’s your father?”
She shrugged, looking very much without concern. “At home, I suppose,” she guessed, nearly with a proud gist to her voice.
“You ran away,” he concluded. He rolled his eyes and sighed while putting his hand over his eyes; appearing that he was having a very bad headache. “Your father’s probably having kittens!” Sirius was a very organized man, very strict, but very good and loving under all. He knew his old school rival must have been panicked to the hilt.
Sirius had never talked about another child more than he had Renny–she was very obviously his favorite, as well as his first and only daughter. The grief Sirius must have been feeling would be intense. “And I have no time, Miss Weather, absolutely no time at all to return you. This is my personal ship, but it is not a private yacht! It’s a man of war, and we’re on a mission.”
“Well, you’re just going to Brinland,” she said calmly.
“No, Madam, we’re not just going to Brinland. We’re to intercept a ship bound to attack the Brinland docks! We might well have a battle before we even spot a sign of land!” He seemed to march dangerously close to her.
Her eyes sparkled slightly with excitement, since she was, after all, a General’s pupil that had never been allowed near a battle. Though already thinking of the victorious event, she tried to calm him. “I’ll stay out of your way,” she assured, trying to sound calm.
“Even if you could ‘stay out of the way’, you’re in danger,” he informed darkly. “The cannon ball does not discriminate. You don’t know how easy it is to die on a ship.”
“Well, not that easily, if you’ve lived as long as you’ve lived,” she retorted smartly.
“You stupid girl,” he spat angrily. “A twelve-pounder could easily deprive you of your leg. Or a head. You think because you’re ageless means you can grow back one of those things?” He was yelling now, growing angrier and more worried for her the more he imagined. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest at the mere thought of returning Sirius’ daughter to him either in a box or missing some very important limbs.
“Don’t call me stupid, and there’s no need to yell,” she ordered firmly, yet at the same time sounding awkwardly fragile.
“Obviously I need to, Miss Weather, because you haven’t been yelled at enough!” he told her, removing his sword sheath and slapped it onto his desk with a clank. “I’ve never known such a streak of outright naughtiness,” he told her.
She blushed at the word “naughtiness“. It seemed to change the structure of the confrontation immediately–she was no longer the admiral’s peer he was upset with–she was a naughty child.
Wanting badly not to be thought of as a child, she said what she thought any young man would say. “I’ll work with the men,” she offered sincerely, straightening her back to look more able and strong. “And Poppa trained me in sword-play! I could be very good use to you in a battle,” she said, almost exposing her excitement. “I’m sure at the end of it all, you’ll be happy I came aboard.”
He looked at her as if she had just lost her mind. “I’m not having the general’s daughter’s hands and knees bloodied up, or getting in the real sailors’ way. To make this ship run I need strong, disciplined, and respectful men. You, my dear, don’t posses any of those attributes,” he said harshly as he sat very firmly on the bed. “As for battle experience; you have none, nor will you receive it here, I guarantee you. I’m sure the sword play your father taught you was just that. Play. Now, come over to me; let’s get this over with.”
Her posture seemed to freeze when he said that. She looked at him as he sat so straight, proud, and expectant. Did he really think she was going to bed him? Like she owed him anything? She was angered by the mere notion. Forgetting to even argue about her fighting abilities, she straightened her posture threateningly, like a snake about to bite. “Get what over with?” she asked tersely, her brow knitted with firmness and confusion.
“Your chastisement,” he promptly answered as he rolled up his sleeves, sounding as if she should have seen it coming all along.
She reevaluated his posture–it suddenly looked all too familiar, only it was normally on her father as he sat on his stool in the woodshed, with the rolled sleeves and a strong posture. “You’re not going to flog me,” she informed certainly, standing strongly from her chair.
“Not with anything,” he admitted, sounding as if she should be grateful about it. “You’re a fool, but I’ve decided to be lenient because you are just a young girl, after all.”
“No, sir, absolutely not,” she informed with a shake of her head. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “You have absolutely no right at all.”
“I have all the right under the gods,” he told her firmly. “I am captain of this ship—high admiral of his majesty’s navy! There is a tradition that has all stowaways flogged; however, in light of your selfish attitude towards your father and the absolute danger you’ve put yourself in, this one will be my pleasure.”
“Be reasonable, Sir,” she told him with a whine in her voice. “Think of me more as your uninvited guest?” They stared each other down for a moment, but Logan seemed much more at ease than she was. “I won’t be beaten by anyone but my father, I simply will not!” She stomped her foot by way of stating that she had ‘put it down’.
“I am done jousting with you,” he declared, looking very impatient. “Miss Weather, you do not want me to come to you,” he informed ominously. Suddenly he realized her posture had changed entirely, from a snake’s to a deer’s, looking like she was about to run. He stood up as to grab her, but his quick movements seemed only to bring on the inevitable. “Damn!” he cursed when she darted from the room at his very first movement.
The girl seemed like she already knew every corner of the ship, every hallway, every sailor that walked in her way–she was moving with great speed, and he knew he was not going to catch her anytime soon, unless… “Seize that girl!” he barked at a sailor the girl was going to run past.
She zipped past that sailor, despite his quick movements, and she got halfway down the main deck before two sailors came at her from two sides and held her still. “Let me go, you beasts!” she demanded furiously, desperately.
By the time the Admiral got there, he was more infuriated than many had ever seen him; his face was red and his jaw was locked, looking like it had steel bones within it. “Thank you, Mr. Styles, Mr. Anderson,” he nodded when he finally found his voice again. He grabbed her arm tightly, but when she resisted with a sharp cry of “No!” he simply bent down and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
The crew broke out in heavy laughter as they saw the high general’s daughter being carried off like a naughty little girl by the admiral himself. Logan, however, didn’t think it was funny at all. “Where were you trying to get to, by the way?” he grumbled at her. “There are only so many places you can go on my ship.”
“Put me down!” she demanded hysterically and proceeded to pinch, scratch, and hit the Admiral’s back as hard as she could.
He winced at her attack and then gave her a loud swap on the seat of her skirts. “Cease and desist, woman!” he warned. “Or I will flog you bare in front of my whole crew, I kid you not!”
The swat and threat seemed to subdue her enough. She gave a sort of frustrated growl, but just hung uncomfortably over his shoulder on the way down to his cabin. “Please, Sir,” she began to plead again when they were below deck. “Can’t you change your mind?”
He gave a snort. “Absolutely not!” was the answer. “And you will now also pay for that little jaunt about the ship. Shame on you for your foolish behavior!” he scolded as he finally reentered his cabin. “I expected you to be able to accept your chastisement like a lady—not a small child!” He leaned down to plant her feet on the ground in front of him. “Do you have a hairbrush in your pack?” he asked, his eyes glancing over at the cloth haversack she brought along with her.
She felt the pit of her stomach flutter. She had too much of a notion that he hadn’t any desire at all to use it for the item’s original purpose. She had been spanked with a hairbrush before—only not since before her mother passed away when she was seven. It was a very childish way of being chastised, even though she knew the admiral didn’t plan on using it as gently as her mother had done. “No,” was the answer that came through a moment of silence, her cheeks blushing furiously.
“It had better not be in there, then, when I look for one there,” he said after eyeing her skeptically for a moment. He turned towards the pack.
“Maybe there is,” she finally admitted as he picked up her sack. “I don’t remember.” She felt like dying when she saw him grab it out of the bag, wielding it, inspecting it, and then looking over and inspecting her suspiciously. Finally, he stomped over and grabbed her wrist tightly and led her over towards his desk chair. “I thought you said you weren’t going to use anything,” she whined.
He sat down on the chair and, without any more warning at all, pulled her unceremoniously over his thighs. “That was before you took matters into your own hands,” he explained brusquely, grabbing for the bottoms of her skirts.
She squealed and put both hands behind her, trying to keep her skirts down. “No, Sir, please,” she begged. “Over the skirts, if you would!”
“I wouldn’t,” he simply said, undeterred by her modesty. “And you will get your hands out of the way at all times, Madam,” he said firmly.
She let out a dry sobbing noise and seemed to force her own hands to the floor. “You don’t have any right to do this,” she repeated with a cry as she felt all three layers of her skirts folding over her back. She gasped when she felt his hand on the hem of her pantalets, her face going redder than ever with humiliation. She whipped her hand back around and grabbed his hand firmly. “Stop!” she ordered. “You’re not my father or my husband. You can not bare me!” she tried to warn.
“As this ship’s master, I can,” he differed mercilessly, pushing her hand gruffly back towards the floor. Although he didn’t seem to wait a single moment before he had pulled down her pantalets, he did greatly anticipate them–far more than he knew was appropriate. The moment he had even seen her lingerie he had become too excited–truth be told, he had never seen cuter pantalets in his life. They were of the softest white with the most innocent lace on them. In all his years, and as far as he knew, he had never seen a virgin’s bottom–the only ones he had seen were scandalously clad, seen for the few moments before the silks were ripped away before a torrid sexual encounter with some professional companions he frequently enjoyed while on land.
When he saw her bare bottom, an evil trill was sent down his spine. Her skin was so fair, and so soft–he just wanted to put his mouth on it. As he restrained himself as much as he could, he let himself inspect it for a moment and saw that there were some red stripes settled ruggedly across it, particularly deeper on her thigh. “You’ve been beaten, Miss Weather?” he asked straightforwardly, yet a slight amount of sympathy did infiltrate her ears.
“Yes, Sir,” she admitted dejectedly, yet she was beginning to hope that he wouldn’t find reason to continue. “The night I left…”
She heard him heave a sigh, but then his voice was very strong. “Really, Miss Weather, all this nonsense from one short whipping? A very light one, too, from the looks of it. Your father used to do much worse on your brothers, believe you me, and it was only to their benefit… Even though none of them were ever as horrible as you.”
It was then that the spanking commenced. Renny winced and squeaked after she felt his strong, calloused hand come down roughly on her delicate little bottom, already knowing she wouldn’t be able to tolerate it for very much longer. After the first few strokes she had decided that Logan was far harsher than her father–and he wasn’t even warmed up yet. She had never been spanked by anyone other than her father or mother and so was aghast, now knowing that her parents had been so overly delicate with her.
It seemed like every smack of his hand left a red print and it didn’t seem to be long at all until she began yelping and kicking her legs with all she was worth. After the tenth spank she had lost her composure completely, and tried to turn around and protect herself with her hand. “Please, stop!” she begged.
He locked his jaw again and grabbed her hand and pinned it against the small of her back. “I’ve only just begun!” he announced, despite her sob. “How Sirius could have ever raised a naughty little girl like you eludes me,” he scolded as he continued to spank her. “You had better shape up, young madam, because you have far too much honor in your name to traipse around, shame your father, and climb aboard a ship, nearly killing yourself. Do you know how saddened your father would be at your demise? Do you have any idea?”
Renny was well beyond answering at this point–she had thought her bottom already tender before the spanking began. Now she was beyond capacity for logical response. “I’m sorry,” she finally sobbed, tears now freely falling from her eyes.
“You’d better be,” growled Logan. “You should be mortified at yourself for causing Sirius so much grief! You’re simply lucky you’re not my daughter.”
‘I’d say,’ she thought to herself with so much humiliation that she felt enraged, but in too much pain right now to do a thing about it. She suddenly thought of all the men that could no doubt hear all of this on deck, and tried to stifle her sobs a bit, until she felt him stop.
She was in such relief–it was over! But then she felt the most uncomfortable swack she’d ever experience in her life and screamed as the flat of her hairbrush smacked the most sensitive skin just above her thigh. “Please have mercy!” she sputtered quickly as she sobbed, suddenly unable to conceive of anyone else on this ship but the two of them.
Did you guys like it? You know where to go…
RomanticSpankings.com! It will also soon be available through Amazon!