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!

__________________________________________________

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.