Meet Katie

Katie's Age Play Escort Service is a book I had so much fun writing!

Katie is the owner of an age play escort agency, and this book introduces readers to a few of her clients and employees. All of the chapters in this book are male top / female bottom and have some relationship to age play. I was hoping to show that age play can include lots of different scenarios.

I'm planning to write another story about Katie and her escorts. In the next one, I'll include a little bit of Katie's back story and how she came to own an age play escort service in the first place.

Here's a little sample of the book.

Katie’s stomach did a flip-flop as she fell onto Evan’s muscular legs. She gave a little squeak at the impact. Evan positioned her so that her bottom was centered on his lap.

Katie was wearing nothing but a work shirt of Evan’s. When she was standing, it hung off her shoulders and down to her knees.

Evan pushed the fabric toward Katie’s waist to reveal her bare bottom. He put his right hand over both cheeks and began to massage the skin.

“Naughty girl,” he murmured, his voice deep and soothing.

Katie squirmed. “Naughty? I didn’t do anything.”

“Not yet, but you will,” he told her.

Katie shook her head in protest. “You can’t spank me for something I might do.”

“I can’t?” Evan’s voice betrayed laughter. He leaned back and regarded her.

“Maybe you can,” Katie conceded with a smirk. She relaxed over Evan’s lap and sank into the feeling of his fingers on her bottom. The fingers journeyed very slowly toward the center of things, and Katie’s pussy began to throb with anticipation.

But before Evan’s fingers made their way into Katie’s personal crevices, he pulled his hand back and began swatting her bottom.

“Ouch!” She yelped, jumping at the surprise attack.

Evan kept smacking her until she could feel a little sting building.

“That hurts!” she complained.

“That doesn’t hurt,” Evan told her. He placed five rapid fire swats on her left cheek and then repeated on the right.

“Yes it does!” she yelled.

Evan stopped and placed his hand on her bottom. “No, Katie. But I can certainly make it hurt..” He pulled back his hand and smacked her bottom hard. “That left a handprint,” he announced.

Katie yelled, biting her lip to stop herself from cursing.

“Now are you done complaining?” Evan asked her.

“Yes,” she said. She let her head fall down onto the sofa while Evan kept whacking away at her bottom.

“I don’t deserve a spanking,” Katie muttered trying to sound annoyed. She knew her voice betrayed her growing lust.

“You always deserve a spanking,” Evan told her. He spanked her low and in the middle of her cheeks, and Katie could feel her body grow moist.

“Just creating a little heat,” Evan told her. He swatted her a little harder, and smiled when Katie yelped.

“You have the sweetest little voice when you’re being spanked,” he told her.

Katie rolled her eyes and was immediately thankful that Evan didn’t see it.

Evan’s hand stopped swatting and rested between Katie’s legs. His palm was partially in her bottom crack and his fingers slid down between her legs. Evan had a large, heavy hand. Katie sometimes wondered if there was concrete inside.

“I’m going to fuck you hard and then paddle your sweet behind,” Evan announced.

Katie smiled. “Sorry, honey. I have an appointment back at the office.”

“Hm, so I only have time for one? Should I fuck you or paddle you?” Evan mused, teasing her verbally and with skillful fingers.

Katie wiggled her bottom seductively and pushed back against Evan’s hand.

“Okay, okay,” he told her. He slipped one finger and then two inside her. She rocked against him.

“Who’s the appointment?” Evan asked. He wiggled his fingers against the rough inner wall of Katie’s vagina, and she went weak.

“Uh.. hm?” she breathed.

Eric pressed his fingers against her. She moaned loudly. “The appointment, Katie. Who is your appointment with?”

“Oh, that woman Charles recommended,” she said. “It was the contract we worked out last night. More.”

“More?”

“More pressure.”

Evan complied with Katie’s request and pushed his fingers against her with a slow pulse. Katie’s head swirled and she concentrated on the feeling.

“You’re going to hire her then?” Evan asked, continuing his intrusion.

“What? Yes, of course, if she agrees. Oh Evan,” she moaned. “That feels so good.”

Even pressed a little harder, and Katie squirmed.

“Your bottom still warm?” Evan asked her.

Katie nodded. The answer to that question was always yes.

“Let’s just make sure,” he said. Katie whined as Evan popped her bottom quickly twenty more times.

The sting in Katie’s bottom wasn’t unbearable. In fact, it was the center of a glow that went all through her body.

Evan slipped his fingers back between her legs, and Katie moaned. He brought her to the edge, back arching toward him, and then he pulled away.

He stood and flipped Katie onto the bed on her back. He kept his eyes on hers as he took off his clothes. Then he slowly unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and pushed it aside. He climbed on top of her and leaned over her body, making her feel small and possessed.

“You are so wet,” he told her. “Somebody likes to be spanked.”

Katie grinned, and Evan leaned down to kiss her on the mouth. His lips pressed forcefully against her own.

Then his other parts were pressed against her, too. Katie moaned as Evan slipped inside her, filling places she hadn’t known were empty. Evan gave her a moment to feel him inside her before beginning to slowly rock back and forth. Katie moved with him, pressing her hips up and pulling him into her.

“Naughty baby,” Evan whispered in her ear as he rocked her body forward and back. “We’ll have to find time for that paddling.”

Katie arched her neck a little. She could feel Evan’s warm breath against her chest, and it was bringing even more heat to her already burning body. She matched Evan’s rhythm, the pressure inside growing more and more intense.

Just when she thought she would burst, he stopped.

She whimpered.

Then he began to move again, this time with stronger thrusts that moved her whole body with him. Katie felt her desire rising like a tide, and she shuddered.

“Go ahead,” he told her softly. His voice was calm but broken by his own heavy breathing.

The orgasm washed over her like water. She closed her eyes and felt the waves rush, bringing her out to sea and then back again.

Evan came more explosively, intensifying Katie’s rolling waves like a storm at sea. By the time it was over, Katie’s legs felt weak.

Evan climbed off of her and then leaned back against the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“Katie, you are an incredible woman,” he told her, his eyes still closed.

Merry Christmas from Jack and Meggie

I wrote two short Christmas stories featuring my favorite age-play couple, Jack and Meggie. You can find them at Lulu, Kindle and Smashwords. They are being offered for just 99 cents at Smashwords! Here's Jack and Meggie on the Christmas Train (inspired by a true story!) and A Little Christmas Spanking.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

The Preacher's Wife

In The Preacher's Wife, the story of Frankie and Nick continues. Now Nick's got a church, and Frankie is learning how to be a minister's wife.
The Preacher's Kid, The Preacher's Bride and The Preacher's Wife are almost what could be considered Christian Domestic Discipline. They are about people who have a deep faith and who are very conservative in many ways (although I like to think that they are politically liberal!) and who believe in the husband and the Head of Household who has the authority to discipline and spank his wife as well as his children when necessary.
Do I love Christian Domestic Discipline themed stories? Yeah. Do I believe that God has given men authority over wives and should discipline them when he thinks they need it? Um... no.
I have a suspicion that many of us who like our CDD are in it for the erotic nature of it. For me there's something hot about dragging religion into a domestic discipline story.
The Preacher's Wife includes some sex, so it isn't really a true CDD story. However it still has that twist that I enjoy. I hope you do, too.
Here's a little sample of The Preacher's Wife.

The Preacher’s Wife

By Jennie May

Frankie sat perched on the wooden chair outside of the farmhouse’s front room that Nick used as his office. She and Nick had been married for only a few months, and he had recently begun a position as pastor of the nearby Abington Community Church. Nick was handling the position well, in spite of those who thought he was too young for that level of responsibility. He had proven that he had the experience and the skills to lead the church effectively as well as to deliver inspiring and enlightening sermons. Frankie, however, was finding that her role as a pastor’s wife was not as easy as she had expected. In spite of years watching her mother in the same role, Frankie was having trouble with the diplomacy and grace required.

Frankie couldn’t see into the office, but she was still aware of the unfolding events. The door was open, and she could hear everything that was happening inside. She bit her lip, listening to the conversation.

“I understand,” said Nick. His voice was low, serious and completely professional.

“It’s not that we necessarily disagree with what Frankie said,” a higher voice explained nervously. “We understand her feelings on the matter.”

“But we disagree with the tone she took with Mrs. Dell and with the words that she used to explain her position,” said Marshall Kent, the oldest and most serious member of the church board. Frankie could just picture the old man’s round face crumpled into concern.

“I understand completely,” Nick repeated. “Frankie needs to learn how and when to express herself.”

Frankie winced. She felt terrible that she had put her husband in this position. He had just started his job, and she was already causing trouble. She had known all along that Mrs. Dell had been one of the people who had been against Nick’s being hired as pastor.

Frankie thought about Mrs. Dell and tried to contain a grumble. Old Mrs. Dell was the most miserable woman in the church. She complained about everything from Nick’s sermons to the color they had painted the church nursery. She had been talking Frankie’s ear off last Sunday when she mentioned that she didn’t believe children under the age of 5 should even be brought to church.

“Disruptive, that’s what they are,” the woman had said, squinting her eyes at a group of children playing nearby. “In my day, children knew how to behave. Now they just run like wild animals. You should speak to your husband about banning children from services.”

“Banning the children?” Frankie had repeated. “But how will they know about God?”

“They’ll find out about God when they’re old enough not to both me during worship,” Mrs. Dell had snapped.

For a moment Frankie had just stood in front of the woman, shocked. Then, too quickly, she found her voice.

“Jesus said let the little children come to me. Perhaps we should ban nasty old women instead, Mrs. Dell.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Frankie wished she could grab them all and shove them back in.

Mrs. Dell had huffed and turned quickly on one heel. Then she’d made a beeline for Marshall Kent.

That was why the church board was visiting Nick today. Frankie was so embarrassed she felt like crawling under a table. But she knew that if she wasn’t there to see the church board to the door, it would disappoint Nick.

She would do her duty as a minister’s wife, even if it squashed her pride.

Frankie stood as the little group left Nick’s office. She stood with her hands clasped against the back of her skirt and forced a smile.

“I’m glad you understand, Nick,” Marshall Kent said, shaking her husband’s hand.

Nick nodded solemnly. “I’ll take care of it Marshall. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.”

Frankie swallowed hard. She moved to stand beside her husband and say goodbye to the church board as they left the little house. Each member told Frankie goodbye, but each seemed a little bit nervous to be speaking to her. Frankie felt like a naughty child who had been tattled on by the neighbors.

Nick closed the door and turned the lock with a click. Then he settled his eyes on Frankie. He raised his eyebrows. “You have anything to say for yourself?”

...

Frankie bit her lip and looked down at the bed.

Nick pulled her across his lap and positioned her bottom over his thighs. Then he flipped up her skirt and pulled down her panties.

“You have more responsibilities than the average woman, Frankie,” he told her sternly. “You are a minister’s wife, and the way you act is a reflection of me.”

Frankie felt chastised before the spanking even started. When it did start, the stinging slaps fell fast and with force. Her bottom soon felt like a ball of rubber left out in the sun. She involuntarily kicked her feet and closed her eyes tightly as Nick’s hand landed again and again on her bare cheeks.

The spanking wasn’t long, but the sting in Frankie’s bottom was intense when Nick let her up. There were tears in her eyes as she stood in front of her husband.

“I love you,” Nick told her, his eyes revealing his adoration. “I don’t know what I’d be without you. I know that I ask a lot from you so that I can pursue my calling, and I appreciate that you are willing to fill that role.”

“Of course I’m willing!” Frankie said, momentarily forgetting the sting in her backside. She threw her arms around him. “My calling is to support you in yours. I’ll do better, Nick. I promise.”

He laughed, pulling her onto his lap. She winced as she sat. “Maybe you’d better promise to try.”

“I promise to try,” Frankie told him. She kissed him and snuggled into his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

He held her there for a moment and then let his hands began to wander over her body. Frankie groaned and pushed herself toward him.

They both stayed in the bedroom until the next morning.

Frankie's Back and She's a Bride!

I enjoyed writing The Preacher's Kid so much that I immediately wrote The Preacher's Bride. This one follows Nick and Frankie through their wedding preparations back in Frankie's home town. Nick has helped Frankie grow up and get a handle on things, but she's not quite ready to walk back into her parents' house as an adult. Nick believes that childish behavior requires an appropriate reaction, and Frankie finds herself over his knee learning how to behave herself with her family. Josh and Jess are back too. Jess doesn't come from a domestic discipline background, though, and Josh knows that's what he wants in his future. Will Jess decide to follow Josh's leadership or will the whole thing blow up in their faces?
In The Preacher's Bride you'll also meet Frankie's sister, Evie. Evie has always been the good girl but deep inside she might be the wildest of all.
The Preacher's Bride is available over at Lulu as a print and a download. You should soon be able to find it for all the hand-held reading devices too.
I hope you love it as much as I do!

The Preacher's Kid, a new series

I got a buzz in my brain about a year ago about preacher's kids.
I first heard the term PK from a girl I used to know whose father was an evangelical preacher. She grew up in a very strict home, partially because everything she and her sisters did was noted by the church congregation. She was expected to represent her family, her church and even Christianity in general with her behavior. That's some pressure.
So I was thinking about that and I decided to write about a preacher's kid who is looking for herself. Of course she finds love but in a place she wasn't expecting. This one has plenty of spanking, too.

Here's Chapter One of The Preacher's Kid. You can buy it (download or print) on Lulu.

The sofa was on fire.

Frankie stood staring at it for a few moments. She decided that it wasn’t on fire, really. There were no flames. But it was certainly making a lot of smoke. She tried to remember if her cigarette had been the cause of the trouble. She looked down at her hand. Through a mist of vodka, she saw that she no longer held her cigarette. It must be hers, then, that was burning a hole in the cushion.

“I smell smoke,” said a voice. Frankie wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from. It seemed to float toward her through the room. She craned her neck to locate it. Her straight, soft hair fell across her bare shoulders, and she wondered what had happened to her t-shirt.

“It’s the sofa!” someone else yelled.
She felt herself being jostled out of the way as the smoke was cleared. Someone dropped her cigarette into a glass of water.

“Hello,” she said.

The person looked at her. “Frankie? Are you okay?”
“Uh huh,” said Frankie, bobbing her blonde head up and down very slowly and peering into the person’s eyes. This person seemed to have three of them.

“How much have you had to drink?”

Frankie felt two hands on her shoulders that she recognized as belonging to her best friend, Jessica. Frankie sighed with relief.

“Jess!” she exclaimed, breaking into a grin. “What are you doing here?”
Jessica looked worried. “We came here together, Frankie. We came in your car.”

Frankie nodded again. “Okay, then. Are you ready to go home? I’m ready to go home, Jess. I don’t feel so good.”

Jessica shook her head. The motion caused her to slip a little, and she steadied herself. “Oh no, girl. I’ll drive. You’ve had too much to drink.”

“I’m fine!” Frankie protested. She started to take a step toward the door, but then she fell down onto the formerly smoldering sofa. She closed her eyes. “Just lemme rest a minute.”

“Frankie? Frankie?”
Frankie barely heard Jess. She felt like she was floating away.

Then everything went black.

“Good morning.”

Frankie squinted into the bright sun that streamed through the kitchen window. Then she slumped into a chair. It had taken all of her strength to move from the sofa to the kitchen.
The person standing in front of her handed her a cup of coffee. The smell made her stomach turn.

She looked up at the person. He was tall with dark brown hair and a bit of scruff around his face. He wore running shorts and a t-shirt advertising a 10K in New York City.

Frankie blinked several times. “Do I know you?”

The person shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He tossed her something. “Put this on.”

She flushed as she realized she was only wearing a skimpy undershirt. She took the offered t-shirt and pulled it over her head. It was several sizes too big, and the extra fabric fell off her shoulders.
She tried to look around, but the motion made her head hurt. She looked back up at the stranger. “Where am I?”

“You’re at my house,” he said brightly.

She moaned. “Did I… I mean, did we?”

A look of confusion crossed his face, and then he laughed. “No. You spent the night here, but you were alone on the sofa.”

“Oh,” she said. She looked at the coffee and then back at the man. “The party was here.”

“Yes,” he said. “And it looks like it was quite a party.”

“This isn’t your house. This is Mandy’s house,” she protested, remembering. She and Jessica had come here to see Jess’s new friend, Mandy. She was throwing the party.

“I’m Mandy’s brother,” the man said. “I own this house.”
“Oh,” she said again. She closed her eyes.

“But I wasn’t here last night,” he explained. “And apparently Mandy decided to have a wild time in my absence.”

She started to nod and then let her head fall down onto the table. It landed with a thump. “Ow.”

“You okay?” he asked her.

She grunted.

“I’m Nick,” he said. “I’m headed out the door for a jog, but if you need me…”
“No, I’m fine,” she murmured from her spot on the table. Then she lifted her head. “Where’s Jess?”
“I don’t know,” said Nick. “I don’t even know Jess. But Mandy’s not here either, so maybe they’re together? There’s a green Sunfire in the driveway.”

“Mine,” said Frankie.

The phone rang. Nick answered it. Frankie noticed his large hands as he gripped the receiver. “Hello? Uh huh. Where’s Mandy? Yeah.” He put his hand over the phone receiver and turned toward her. “Are you Frankie?”
She nodded and held out her hand. He passed off the phone.

“When you’re done I want to talk to my sister,” he said.

Frankie put the phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You okay, Frankie?” It was Jess. “I didn’t mean to leave you there alone. I was a little drunk last night, and you were all passed out on the sofa.”

“Where are you?”
“I’m at the apartment. Mandy took me home.”
Frankie nodded. Her head was still spinning. “Oh. Nick wants to talk to Mandy.”

“Who’s Nick?” Jess asked.

“The brother,” said Frankie. “And the roommate, I guess.”

Then Jess was gone. Frankie handed the phone to Nick. He put it up to his ear, and Frankie dropped her head back down on the table.

“Where are you, Amanda?” Nick demanded.

Frankie groaned. The tone reminded her of her father. She did not want to be reminded of her father, especially when her head was spinning.

“I want you to come now,” he said. “We’re going to talk about this…. No…. no…. You’re nineteen years old! You’re not even old enough to drink.”
Frankie groaned. She hadn’t known Mandy was underage. No wonder the girl had asked them to stop for liquor on the way over.

“No,” said Nick firmly. “Right now.”

He hung up the phone and turned back to Frankie. His gaze reminded her of the police shows she’d seen on television. She half expected him to turn a spotlight on her. “So what went on here last night?”

“I don’t remember,” she said honestly.

“Figures,” he said. “You okay to drive home?”

She felt nauseous. “No.”

Nick sighed and helped her to her feet. “The spare bedroom is just down the hall, first door on the right. You go in there and sleep it off.”

He guided her down the hall, and she found the bedroom.

“And the bathroom’s across the hall,” he said, just before leaving her. “Use it if you feel sick. I’m not interested in cleaning up vomit this morning.”

She nodded obediently. Then she climbed onto the strange bed and fell asleep.

She awoke to a sound she thought was the clap of thunder. Then she thought it might be someone building something outside. As she became more awake and took in her surroundings, she realized what it was. She had heard that sound many times during her childhood.

She sat up and looked at the clock. It was after noon. She sighed, glad she had made it through the morning without being sick. She stood up and crept to the bedroom door. She opened it a bit, and the sound got louder. It was coming from one of the other bedrooms. When she stepped into the hall, she could hear voices with the sound.

“Nick! Nick, no!” a female voice begged. She sounded near tears. “Nicky, please. I’m sorry!”

The cracking sound got faster and louder. “This is never going to happen again,” said Nick.

“It won’t! It won’t!” the girl insisted. “Ow! Nicky!”
“No drinking, no parties and no strangers in this house, Amanda,” Nick said, emphasizing his point with some particularly harsh smacks.

“I won’t! I won’t do it again!” Mandy nearly screamed.

The cracks continued, and Frankie closed her eyes. She heard Mandy crying hard. In the sobs, she could also hear an echo of herself when she was back at home over the knee of her father or her own big brother. She slid against the wall and listened.

In a few minutes, it was over. She heard the siblings talking in low voices, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. She went back into the bedroom and crawled under the sheets.

She pulled the covers up to her neck and let herself relax into the cool sheets. The sounds of the spanking hadn’t bothered Frankie in the least. She had grown up in a family with six children, and there was hardly a day when someone wasn’t getting spanked. Frankie’s own brother, Josh, had even done the honors a time or two when he’d come home from college. In fact, she had no doubt that if Josh were in this bedroom with her, he’d be doing to her exactly what Nick was doing to his sister in the other room.

She smiled and then sighed. She did miss her family. But she reminded herself that this move across the country was exactly what she needed to put her life in order. In Frankie’s small town everyone knew everything she did. To them she would always be The PK, the preacher’s kid. They knew her life story inside and out. They knew that she was the rebellious youngest daughter of Pastor Caro. They watched her like a hawk, daring her to make a mistake.

With everyone just waiting for her to sin, it was no wonder she’d started at such a young age. In the shadow of her gloriously well-behaved older sisters, there was no role for Frankie except to be the bad seed. It was how she got her attention, even if that attention usually involved her bare behind.

For this reason, Frankie had no problem knowing that Nick had just spanked his little sister in the next room. The thought actually made her feel a little bit homesick.

She closed her eyes and rested for a little bit longer. By the time she finally got out of bed, it was nearly two o’clock.

She made her way back into the kitchen, this time feeling much more chipper. Brother and sister sat together at the kitchen table. The house had been cleaned, and everything looked like it was back to normal.

“Hey Frankie,” said Mandy brightly. “Feeling okay?”

Frankie smiled. “Much better, thanks.”
Nick was standing by the microwave. He’d changed into jeans. “You want a bagel or something?”
Frankie nodded and accepted the food gratefully. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, thankful that there were still several left.

Nick shook his head immediately. “Nope. Not in this house.”

Frankie grimaced. “I did it last night.”

Mandy groaned as her brother shot her a look.

“You’re not doing it now,” said Nick.

Frankie’s anger began to rise. She glared at Nick. “Who says? I’m an adult. I’ll do what I want.”

Nick raised his eyebrows at her. “This is my house,” he reminded her. “And waking up hung over on a stranger’s sofa is not the behavior of an adult, young lady.”

Frankie rolled her eyes and stuffed the cigarettes back into her pocket.

“This is what your friends are like?” Nick asked Mandy.

“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Frankie protested. She looked at Mandy. “Brothers are a pain.”

Mandy started to smirk but then set her mouth into a straight line when she saw her brother watching her. Her eyes laughed when she glanced at Frankie.

Then Nick turned his gaze to the visitor. “As long as you want to be part of the conversation, why don’t you tell me about how you and your friend came to buy alcohol for my teenage sister.”

Frankie shrugged and looked at Mandy. The teen was tall and slender with a mass of brown curls. “She looks twenty-one,” said Frankie helplessly.

Nick was incredulous. “You didn’t ask her?”

Frankie shot her hands up. “Hey! I’m not on trial here.”

“You could be,” Nick growled, his dark eyes zeroing in on her. “Buying alcohol for minors is illegal.”

“Wait,” said Mandy with a sigh. “Jess asked. I told her I was twenty-one.”

Frankie looked triumphantly at Nick, but he was focused on his sister.

“You what?”
“I told her,” Mandy said softly. “I told her I was twenty-one.”

Nick shook his head and then folded his arms. He stood there breathing deeply for about thirty seconds. Then he said, “I am going to blister your butt.”

“Nick!” Mandy protested. Her cheeks turned pink.

“’Manda, I am way beyond caring who knows that you get your little hiney spanked,” Nick said threateningly.

Mandy looked like she wanted to crawl under a chair. Her cheeks blazed red. She turned to Frankie. “We come from a very conservative family.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to her,” said Nick. “This is between you and me.”
Frankie ignored him. “It’s okay, Mandy. When I was sixteen, I snuck into a frat party and got drunk on beer. I had to stare at the empty beer can on the floor while my brother smacked my bare behind with a paddle.”

The room went silent. The siblings both stared at her.

“Really?” Mandy breathed. “I didn’t know anyone else had a family like that.”
“Lots of people do,” said Frankie. “Especially back in Georgia. Why do you think I left?”

Mandy laughed. Then she remembered how much trouble she was in, and she looked at the table.

Nick was still staring at Frankie. “I wondered about that accent.”

Frankie smiled. “I’m a Southern Belle.”
Nick laughed, and Frankie was surprised to notice that he had a fantastic smile. “You certainly are,” he said.

Frankie’s eyebrows went up. He seemed to be flirting with her. She glanced at Mandy and then looked back at Nick. “Don’t you think she’s been through enough?”
Mandy looked up hopefully.

“No,” said Nick.

Frankie smiled. “You are just like my brother, Josh.” She pursed her lips together. “Tell you what? You let Mandy off the hook this time, and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Both girls looked at Nick expectantly. He seemed to consider this offer for a moment. Then he said. “Okay. Just this once.”

Mandy breathed a sigh of relief.

“But if this ever happens again, you are in real trouble,” he told his sister, his voice low and serious.

She nodded solemnly. When Nick had turned away from them, she mouthed the word thanks. Frankie winked at her.

Nick stepped into the hallway to pull on a jacket. When he returned, he addressed Frankie. “Come on.”

She looked up. “Where?”

“You promised me lunch,” he said. “You drive.”

Frankie laughed and stood up. Then she smiled at Mandy. “I guess we’re going to lunch. See you later.”
Mandy grinned and watched them leave. Just as the door was nearly shut, it opened again. Nick stuck his head through. “You are grounded,” he told her. “You’re not going anywhere for a week.”

She pretended not to hear him.

A little bit of the Illuminated Discipline Manual

Here's a little sample of "The Illuminated Discipline Manual" for your entertainment.

Spanking

Spanking is considered by the Illuminated to be the most useful form of discipline. This is because it provides an immediate negative reaction to an undesirable behavior and it can be altered in length and severity so that it is appropriate to a particular situation.

A spanking can take many forms, and we will discuss several here.

Having been raised in the Church of the Illuminated, you have all been spanked during your childhoods. If you are an older sibling in your family, you may have given spankings to younger brothers and sisters. However, spanking your wife is a different experience than spanking a sibling or any child.

Consider first a traditional, moderate spanking.

After you have discussed your wife’s misbehavior with her, you will proceed to uncover her bottom or tell her to do it herself. You will then seat yourself on a chair, a bed, a sofa or another piece of furniture that will allow your wife to be pulled across your lap. Small women can be spanked over your lap on a chair, but larger women will require the support of a sofa or bed. Remember her comfort. You want the pain she experiences to be in her bottom and not because of poor positioning.

Pull your wife firmly across your lap, and do not begin the spanking until you have positioned her appropriately. Most likely you will want your wife’s bottom to be squarely over your lap. Some men prefer to have the bottom positioned slightly more on one thigh. You will discover the positioning that is most comfortable to you.

Once her uncovered bottom is appropriately positioned, place your hand on it. Allowing her to feel the weight of your hand on her bottom sets the appropriate mood for the spanking. Do not allow clenching of the bottom cheeks. If this becomes a problem, spank her on the thighs until she relaxes the muscles in her bottom.

Begin the spanking with a sharp slap to the bottom of one or both of her cheeks. You will concentrate your spanking on the base of her cheeks because that is where she will feel the burn when she sits and because that is the safest place to spank. Some men prefer to spank one cheek and then the other, while other men prefer to spank in the middle of the cheeks.

Unless your wife has a very small bottom, it may become necessary to move the cheeks with one hand while you spank with the other. This is so that you are able to spank the area under her bottom cheeks where she will put much of her weight when she sits. Do not hesitate to spank this entire area. If you are having trouble reaching all of your wife’s bottom, tell her to part her legs so that you can have access to more of it. You can also tilt her bottom upward with her legs straight.

Some husbands will reserve spanking the thighs, especially the tender inside areas, for serious misbehavior or punishment during the spanking. This can be useful if your wife cannot control herself while being spanked. For example, if your wife repeatedly kicks her legs toward your face or reaches back with her hand, you can pull her bottom cheek back and spank hard on the insides of her upper thighs. This will remind her to keep herself under control.

Of course if your wife cannot control herself, you can pin her down by placing one of your legs on top of hers. This way you can wallop her bottom hard without the risk of being kicked.

One technique that works for many couples during a spanking is requiring the young lady to verbally admit to her misbehavior. Her husband will give her bottom several hard spanks and then prompt her to repeat a statement such as “I was a naughty girl to skip prayer meeting today” or “I will not skip prayer meeting again.” Each statement should be followed by hard swats. This will cause your wife to associate her misbehavior with the feeling of being spanked. You can enforce that association by saying something like, “This is what will happen every time you skip prayer meeting” or “girls who skip prayer meeting have their bottoms spanked.”

Some women respond to scolding while being spanked, while others are so focused on the spanking that they cannot hear what you are saying anyway. You will learn what is best for your wife.

Over time you will learn when to end the spanking. You will want to spank your wife to the point of crying tears of real repentance. When your wife is truly sorry for her actions, you should be able to hear it in her voice.

Most women will require no more than a moderate spanking. Remember that a woman’s response to punishment is based more on the emotional than the physical. If you able to understand her emotions, you will not need to make the spanking severe.

The Illuminated Discipline Manual

The Church of the Illuminated is a creation of mine that has a special place in my heart. The community and the folks who live there, while obviously fictional, are quite real in my mind.

So I decided recently to go inside my own head and have a conversation with two of the Illuminated men. From there I put together The Illuminated Discipline Manual for men.

You see, whenever a young man and woman want to get married in the Church of the Illuminated, they must attend pre-marital classes in order to prepare themselves to raise a family in the Illuminated tradition.

Part of this class involves teaching the young men of the church how to discipline their wives. If you read part one, "The Church of the Illuminated" you were able to sit in on one of these classes.

Still, young men should have something in writing that they can refer to. This is why they have The Illuminated Discipline Manual. It discusses all aspects of domestic discipline, Illuminated style, including sexual discipline.

I love my Illuminated and I hope you will too!

Layzeee

It has recently been pointed out to me that I don't post here anymore. That's sorta true. It's not that I don't think about posting - I do, for real - I'm just always... um... I spend pretty much all my free time at Spanking Tube.

Love that site.

I AM working on Smut 2, but I'm finding it hard to decide which stories to include. I've been thinking a lot about punishment other than spanking... the creams and the plugs and all those squirmy things.

I remember years ago reading a story about a young lady being spanked and then being placed bare-bottomed on a running dryer. Does anyone remember that? I've also read about punishment stools (some just hard and some with grooves etc to aggravate a punished bottom).

Of course I'm also still into your regular, average otk spanking.

I actually had a pretty thought-provoking experience the other day. I was out driving, and I was feeling a little rebellious. Now, I do a lot of naughty things, naughtier than this, but I don't usually litter. That day, though, I let a candy wrapper fly out of the window of my car. Then I looked into the rear view mirror and saw a very attractive face staring sternly back at me.

I was startled because I hadn't realized someone was behind me. He just kept staring at me, making me very nervous with his gaze. Then, of course, I started to get a little moist down there because, you know, that's the result of being stared at like I was a bad girl.

Then, oh delicious, we pulled up to a red light. He was right behind me. And if I had any doubt before that he was staring me down, I didn't then. He pulled out a police badge and held it against the window.

Ohhhh.... I bet he didn't mean to turn me on with that move, but did he ever. Since then I've been dreaming about him forcing me to the side of the road and spanking my bottom hard.

Lots of my spanking fantasies involve cars. I fantasize a lot about driving recklessly and being spanked for it by some stranger out on the road (of course then the stranger and I become romantically involved and happily ever after follows). No, in real life I don't drive recklessly, but still... I sometimes drive too fast, and I guess I've accidentally cut a couple people off. So, you know, it's sort of real.

Sigh. Maybe someone could video that for Spanking Tube. Or maybe somebody will just turn it into a story for a future otk short story collection.

Stay happy, gang. I'll be trying to incorporate a little more discipline into my life.

Spanking Smut sneak peek - Emily and the Professor

Spanking Smut is a collection of two short stories and one longer story. The stories involve spanking and some edgy stuff. Just for you, my blog friends, is the first story. Hope you like it!

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Emily and the Professor by Jennie May

He was working at his desk when she said it. It slipped out like hot butter on a skillet. She closed her mouth quickly as if she could trap the word in, but she was too late. He heard her.
“Emily!” he bellowed.
She scooted from the tiny kitchen and into the room where he sat. He was grading papers, she knew. He looked up at her and frowned. “What was that?”
“Um…” she didn’t know what to say. She could repeat the offensive word, but she was afraid that would get her into further trouble. She knew she couldn’t lie. That would be a disaster. Could she hope that he wasn’t sure what he had heard escape her lips? “What’s that dear?”
His eyebrows went up, and she knew she wasn’t going to be getting out of this easily.
“We talked about this, Emily,” he told her sternly. It was true. They had first had this conversation when Emily had been a freshman in his first section of French 201. He did not tolerate swearing of any kind in his classes. This was a rule that modern college students found hard to obey. It helped a little that his class wasn’t run in English.
Thomas was a professor with an old-fashioned attitude. He treated his students like they were middle school children rather than young adults. He expected respect and obedience, and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw them out of class if they didn’t show appropriate submission.
That was how he and Emily had first begun a personal relationship. Offered the choice between being tossed out of a class she needed or having to submit to his punishment, she chose the latter. Five years later, they were living together in his comfortable apartment several blocks off campus.
“Come over here so I can slap your face,” he told her gruffly.
Emily swallowed hard but did as she was told. There were times when she wasn’t sure why she participated in this bizarre paternal relationship with him, but there were also times when she knew exactly why she did.
She went to his desk and bent down so that he would not have to move away from his grading in order to punish her. The slap was firm, and it stung. He never slapped her hard enough to whip her head around, just hard enough to demonstrate that he would not be putting up with any nonsense from her.
“That language is unladylike, disgusting and beneath you,” he told her.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
He suddenly looked up at her. “Did you get that paper back from Dr. Johns today?”
She twisted her mouth. “Yes.”
“Well?”
She went to her book bag and found the paper. She was pursuing a Master’s Degree, and Thomas was paying for it. A condition of this kindness was that he had full access to anything related to her academic progress. She handed the paper over to him and then folded her hands to wait for his reaction.
“Gave you a C, did he?” Thomas said with disapproval. He thumbed through the paper. “Well I can’t say I blame him, Emily. There are several careless mistakes here.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I didn’t focus.”
“You know you’ll be punished,” he told her.
“I know,” she said again quietly.
He stood and regarded her with an authoritative stare. “We can’t have you performing beneath your potential now, can we?”
She shook her head. Her hands remained clasped in front of her, but her fingers began to itch with an anxious anticipation of what was to come.
He took off his jacket then and snaked an arm around her body to let his hand rest on her bottom. She breathed in the scent of him, an aroma of peppermint and high quality coffee.
“Where do I punish you, darling?”
She squirmed. She knew he asked her these questions to make her feel embarrassed and small. “My bottom,” she answered.
“In complete sentences please,” he said.
“You punish my bottom, sir.” She was blushing furiously, which made her even more embarrassed.
“How do I punish your bottom, love?”
She closed her eyes. His hand rubbed her bottom harder now and slipped into her crack, pushing the fabric of her skirt along with it. “You spank my bottom.”
“And?”
She grimaced. “You put your finger in… in my bottom.”
He patted her warmly. “That’s right, love. I put other things in there, too. And today I think we’ll have your extra punishment. Do you think you deserve that, Emily?”
She felt her knees go weak. She wanted to protest, to scream. Instead she gave him the answer she knew he wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.”
He took her by the hand. “Come on then. Let’s go punish your bottom for that terrible paper.”
She followed along behind him, the soles of her shoes shuffling on the hard wood floors. He led her into the bedroom they shared.
“Go and get your box, please,” he instructed. He seated himself on the bed and watched her.
She went to her dresser drawer and pulled out a box he had given her at the beginning of their relationship. It was a beautifully crafted wooden case the size of a shoebox. It had been originally meant for jewelry or keepsakes, Emily thought. It was engraved “Emily’s Punishment Chest.”
She handed the box to him and then stood in front of him, waiting. She folded her hands in front of her and lowered her eyes to the floor. She was keenly aware of the room around her and the sensations in it. She could hear the faint murmur of the dishwasher running in the kitchen, and she could hear the breeze blowing outside. She felt her feet rooted toward the floors and her arms seemed to pull from heavily from her shoulders.
Thomas placed the box on the bed next to him and then put his hands on Emily’s hips. He shook his head, his face showing disappointment. “I expect better from you,” he told her.
“Yes sir,” she answered.
“Over my knee then,” he said. He tugged on one arm, and Emily allowed herself to be draped across his lap. Her upper body was supported by the firm mattress that Thomas preferred, and her legs dangled.
Thomas was seventeen years older than Emily, but he was a disciplined man. He kept himself strong morally and physically. He was easily able to punish his young girlfriend. He rubbed her skirt, pushing it up toward her back. Then he fingered the outline of her black panties.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to hurt your bottom tonight, Emily,” he told her.
She didn’t answer. She felt the soft duvet cover under her arms and her face, and she waited.
Thomas slowly pulled her panties down to her thighs and gave her bottom several affectionate pats. “This bottom was made to be punished,” he told her. He grabbed fistfuls of cheek and squeezed her flesh roughly in his fists until she felt sore. He pulled the cheeks apart to inspect the area between them. He pushed at her bottom hole with his index finger, bringing a soft cry from Emily. He pushed her cheeks back so that he could run his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper thighs.
Emily held herself in place during this humiliating inspection. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the way his fingers felt on her bare skin as they probed and played with her bottom. In spite of her anxiety and in spite of her fear, Emily’s desire was growing.
Thomas began the spanking with explosive swats that rang out in the small bedroom. Emily could feel the heat immediately, and she grabbed the duvet cover hard in her fists.
“We’ll see if sitting in class on a sore bottom will improve your focus,” Thomas said, whaling away on her tender backside.
The tears came fast, as they always did. It hurt terribly when Thomas spanked her, and she knew that her bottom would be swollen and sore when he was finished. After just a few minutes of forceful spanks she was babbling incoherently about being a good girl and always being focused on her schoolwork.
He stopped the spanking for a moment and listened to her cry. “I’m glad that my discipline is getting through to you.” He reached into Emily’s box and picked up a wooden hairbrush. When he tapped Emily’s bottom with it, her tears increased.
“I’m going to make your bottom sore and sorry,” he told her with a tap tap tap of the heavy brush. “I hope you will think about this experience when you are working on your next paper.”
The hairbrush was a dreadful weapon, and Emily was crying out each time it fell on her bottom. Thomas was focusing his efforts on one strip of tender bottom at the base of her cheeks. Emily was soon bucking and bouncing over his lap.
“I’m going to make sure you don’t sit for a week,” he told her. He pushed one hand hard onto her back and used the hairbrush to bruise her bottom with the other hand.
When he finally put the hairbrush down, Emily was a sobbing mess. He didn’t bother talking to her then. He simply placed his hand between her legs and grabbed her by the sex in order to change her position. He lifted her up off the bed and placed her over just one thigh. He had her on her toes then, bent sharply at the waist so that he could easily access her upper thighs.
These he used his hands to spank with gusto, and Emily bawled her way through the next several minutes. When he was finished he told her to get up so that he could have a look at her.
Emily stood in front of him still sobbing. Her skirt fell back over her bottom, and even that felt like an assault.
“Your bottom is nice and red,” he told her gleefully. “That should keep you on track for awhile. Now it’s time for you to lie on your stomach so that I can administer the rest of your punishment.
Emily continued to cry as she climbed onto the bed and dropped to her stomach. Her panties had fallen to her knees. Thomas took her by the hips and lifted her so that he could place a pillow under her pelvis. Then he lifted her skirt so that he could see her bare, hot bottom.
He opened her box again then and took out a large dildo. “I’m going to have to punish you hard with your dildo,” he told her.
She wanted to beg him not to use the horrible object, but she knew it was no use. She cried into the duvet cover.
He was separating her cheeks. “Try to relax now, or this is going to hurt you even more. I’m going to use just a very small amount of lube because you are being punished.”
Emily tried taking deep breaths, but she kept choking on her tears. She felt his fingers invading her bottom hole, and then she felt the dildo push its way in. She tried to relax, but her bottom was stretched and full. She moaned.
“This is what happens when you don’t do your best,” he told her. He thrust the dildo all the way in, and Emily gasped.
“I’m afraid you have to have your little bottom fucked hard with your dildo tonight, Emily.” Thomas told her.
Emily’s tears left a wet mess on the bedding under her face. She felt Thomas take hold of the intrusive dildo and begin to pump it furiously in and out of her bottom hole.
This stretching pain was different than the stinging pain she still felt from her spanking. She tried to stay relaxed, knowing that clenching her cheeks would only make it worse. Thomas pounded her hard as she cried into the bed.
When he was finished, Thomas pulled the dildo out quickly. “You got your bottom fucked,” he announced. He smacked her sore cheeks rapidly, and Emily bucked.
“You stay here and think about what you’ve done,” he told her. With that, he left the room.
Emily was left with her bottom sore inside and out. As her tears began to slow, she pushed one hand down beneath her stomach. She found her clit and began to rub.
She knew that outside, in another part of the apartment, Thomas was on the phone with her professor telling him to change her grade to an A.

Spanking Smut Volume One

The Spanking Smut is here!

Spanking Smut volume one is now available at Lulu. You can also get it as a download.

The book is packed with spanking and other erotic activities. This one goes further than traditional domestic discipline. The stories in this book involve anal sex, spanking in front of witnesses, pussy spanking and some forceful sex. If you are a spanking traditionalist, this is not the book for you. But if some of your fantasies walk the edgy line, you will enjoy these stories.

I hope you enjoy Spanking Smut! Volume two is on the way.

Depression

Like many of my spanko friends, I suffer from depression. There are times when I just need to remove myself from the world for awhile.

What do you think? Are kinky folk more likely to have these kinds of issues... or maybe it's just kinky folk who like to write about their kinks?

I haven't seen the same thing in tops, interestingly. It's subs and brats who have the mental illness. Hm...

Anyway, I'm still here. I'm getting back to work on some fiction. I just gotta pull myself up outta the great dark hole.

Thanks for sticking with me.

"Frontal" Discipline

This is a phrase I've heard thrown around online lately. Apparently it comes from LDD, or Loving Domestic Discipline... or possibly the advanced version known as ALDD.

I think that frontal discipline involves pussy spanking and possibly clit spanking. (Does it work for guys too? Are y'all out there getting your penis spanked?) To my mind this seems awfully sexual, too sexual to be in the punishment realm. But I could be wrong.

I've used pussy spanking in my stories before because I think it really combines eroticism with discipline (real, pretend or somewhere in between). The embarrassment factor is high. There's a Spanking Tube video of a man spanking a woman's pussy. She is face-up on a sofa, and he's sitting next to her. Her bottom is close to where he is sitting. She's got her right leg kind of up on his left shoulder and her left leg splayed out toward his legs... gotta draw a diagram. At one point he holds her pussy lips apart with his left hand and spanks her clit with his right. It's supposed to be disciplinary, but she sure looks like she's enjoying it.

When I think of frontal spanking, I'd think it would include the front of the thighs, too. But I'm pretty sure that's not technically part of it.

Bobbie Tawse has a terrific spanker on her site named Dennis Hunter who just rocks the thigh spanking.

I'm also kind of intrigued by the idea of using rough sex as punishment... although if someone gets wet from rough sex I guess that might not work. It's nice to think about though...

Think I'll do that now.

Anal Sex; The Rest of the Conversation

Audrey stood nervously shifting from one foot to the other. She was facing the corner, just as she knew David expected.

She heard his footsteps approaching, but she didn't turn to look. She kept her hands folded.

She was wearing a white t-shirt that hung to her hips, exposing her bare bottom cheeks. She felt the cool air on her bare skin, and then she felt David close the space between them.

She felt one hand rough hand fall on her shoulder and the other cup her bottom cheek. He squeezed the plump cheek just a little, and Audrey heard herself gasp.

"I know you don't like to have your bottom fucked," David said calmly as he rubbed her bottom. "I hope this will help you remember to behave yourself in the future."

Audrey didn't answer. She was sure no sound would come out if she tried.

David pushed his hand suddenly between her cheeks, and Audrey jumped. "Where does little Audrey get punished?" he asked her.

"My bottom," she managed to say.

"That's right," he told her. He swatted her firmly, the sound bouncing off the walls like a gunshot. "Bend over the bed."

Audrey shuffled toward the bed and bent over it so that her bottom was pushed out into the room the way David wanted it.

He grabbed her bottom and began to knead and squeeze it with large hands. He was rough, and Audrey squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm going to put my cock in your bottom," David told her, giving her a smack. She jumped a little, and grabbed the quilt beneath her. "Then I'm going to grab those hips and fuck you good."

Audrey tried as hard as she could to relax as David's cock pushed into the opening of her bottom. She groaned as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. He wedged himself into her, and she felt tears sting her eyes.

"Now it's time to punish this bad girl," David said. He held onto her hips and began to pump her hard. He showed no mercy, pulling her toward him as he smashed against her.

She was crying almost instantly, both from the extreme discomfort of the act and from the shame she felt from being punished this way. She wanted to beg him to stop, but she knew he wouldn't until he was sure she'd been disciplined.

"Where do naughty girls get fucked?" he asked her firmly, slapping her bottom twice for effect.

"In their bottom," Audrey answered through her tears. The slaps hurt and only added to the pain she felt deep inside her bottom.

David came hard inside her bottom, and Audrey felt completely dominated as she was pushed hard into the bed. When he pulled out, she was sore and uncomfortable.

David turned her around and kissed her. "You behave yourself, young lady," he told her. "I don't mind repeating this if I have to."

Audrey shook her head, "No. I'll be good."

"Climb into bed, then. You need your rest."

He flipped off the light and turned on the restful music on Audrey's CD player. She fell asleep with her bottom sore and her heart content.

Anal Sex Conversation

I wasn't really going to write more... just kind of a vignette, but so many people have asked for the story to continue that I'm going to write it. I especially thank Nick for his heartfelt plea. :-)

Coming soon - I promise.

conversation

David stood casually, leaning against wall with his arms folding in front of him.

"What?" Audrey asked with a tremble in her voice. She knew she had been naughty.

"I think this calls for our special punishment," David told her.

Audrey felt her head begin to spin. "No."

David nodded and took a step toward her. He smiled when Audrey took a step back. "What's our special punishment, Audrey?"

Audrey swallowed. "I don't want to say it."

He closed the space between them and kept his gaze steady. "Say it."

She took a deep breath. "You... you want to fuck my.. bottom."

David smiled. "That's right. A good old-fashioned bottom fucking is what you need. Go on into the bedroom. I want you in a t-shirt and nothing else."

Audrey scrambled from the room.

Anal Discipline

Ohhh what a squishy, potentially squicky topic!

There is such a thing as anal spanking. You've read about this. (I've written about it!) This is where you spank a bottom hole (or have your bottom hole spanked, depending on your particular viewpoint). I like this in sexual ageplay especially. Bottom hole spanking gives a sense of discipline, sexuality and extreme intimacy all at the same time. However I've found that it works better in fiction than in practice. There are practical matters that make the whole process somewhat awkward. You can have the person being disciplined hold the cheeks apart, but that can't last too long. You can also rig some sort of contraption (think duct tape) to keep them apart. Or if you have a small spankee, you can have her bend over in kind of a downward facing dog position, only on her knees, and the cheeks will separate. However those of us with more substantial bottoms find that this doesn't always work. In my experience, the intimacy of the act is delicious but the swats don't feel especially stingy because of the effort involved in exposing the bottom hole. (Any expert bottom hole spankers out there who want to share a technique? In the comments of course... or maybe in person ;-) ).

Anyway all of that is anal spanking. Anal discipline, however, usually implies something being put into the bottom hole. (Some people like the word anus... not me. I like bottom hole or hiney hole myself...)

Anal discipline can be butt plugs aka bottom pacifiers or bottom plugs (or some daddies I know simply call them reminders). These are plastic, glass or rubbery little suckers that pop right into your bottom hole. The smaller ones don't hurt. They are just uncomfortable and embarrassing. Larger ones can stretch your bottom and hurt a lot.

Another possibility for anal discipline is a butt plug made of a ginger root. I'm not an expert on this, but you can find directions all over the internet.

Anal discipline can also mean anal fucking (I apologize to those who don't like the word fuck. I personally enjoy it a lot... although some doms don't share my opinion). You can have your bottom fucked for pleasure, discipline or both. In general, bottom fucking is a very serious expression of dominance or even ownership, depending on your relationship. It doesn't have to hurt in order to be discipline. However if you want it to hurt, you can certainly make that happen through limiting use of lube and through heavy thrusting... oh my, is it getting warm in here?

The same effect, or a bigger effect, can be achieved with a dildo. Some of these are friggin' huge and will definitely get your point across.

To me, anal play is hottest when it's used for either real or play discipline. The real draw for me is the authority the top/Daddy takes in violating my bottom hole in the first place. Any discomfort is secondary to the general feeling of being put in my place. Just a finger up my bottom can be incredibly exciting... actually just the words "Do you need my finger up your bottom?" make me very drippy. Hm... getting light-headed just thinking about it.

So ends my discussion of anal discipline. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Ramblings about boundaries

So I'm thinking a lot about smut, and I'm finding myself wondering about lines in the sand as far as what is and isn't appropriate in an erotic book. I realize that each person has his or her own idea of what is too much. I guess for lots of people even spanking is going too far. Then again, some people are repulsed by the idea that stories about sex even exist!
There are issues that pop up in spanking stories that don't push my buttons, and there are some that even repel me. Like I said in my previous post, I'm not much of an enema or diapers girl. However, I don't judge anyone for his or her particular brand of kink. In real-life activity, the two important words are consenting adults. In stories, I don't even think consent is necessary. I realize that some would disagree.
So I suppose that's one area that pushes the envelope. Some don't want to read a story that includes lack of consent. For some, myself included, it can be hot under the right circumstances. But then are we talking about non-consentual spanking, non-consentual sex or both? And does it matter?
For me a non-consentual spanking (in fiction) is a turn-on. Rape, in the traditional sense, isn't. However the rape fantasy is huge among women, and should they be able to write and read about it if that's what they want? (And is it different if a man has fantasies of raping a woman?)
Daddy/daughter is a huge turn-off for some people, even when it is quite clear that the story does not involve incest. Marking and blood are other turn-offs for many spankos.
I know that many people believe that what I write is sick. Believe me, I know! You should read some of the responses I get to my stories. I write what turns me on. It turns out that it turns others on, too.
But do I know where my personal line is? I guess not. There is nothing that turns me on that doesn't feel appropriate to write about. So on I go...

Resolved

I'm not so great with New Year's resolutions, but I've been thinking about a few things this year.

I think that really being open and free with my sexuality is number one on the list. Why be inhibited? Sexuality means something different to each of us, so why not embrace what it means to me?

A friend of mine is resolving to find a Daddy this year. To this I say BLAH. (I mean great for HER!). As for me, I'm starting to recognize the freedom and joy of being on my own. Sure I have a couple of dear friends who like to get paternal now and then. :-) And I am certainly not opposed to making more friends and connecting to daddy types and others for fun and entertainment. I wouldn't want to be without sex, particularly my kind of sex, for goodness sake. But sometimes in the past when I've been Daddied up with someone (you like that phrase?) I've felt like I was many missing out on other experiences.

My friend says this is because I have yet to find the right Daddy.

Anyway, the name of the game in 2010 is freedom and self-expression!