Monday, 16 January 2017

A surprise flogging, update and search review

P took me by surprise this morning. I was about to plug in my laptop for a well earned recharge, when he pounced - metaphorically, not physically.

Oh, right you are then... toodles into the bedroom, strips, lays out.  It was all lovey dovey and nice. Lots of kissing and cuddling. Until he bit my bottom a bit.

We might not get round to it very often, which is a pity, but mustn't grumble when we do.

After he finished, and we disentangled ourselves. He accused me of being a naughty girl for squeezing his cock so tightly. What moi? So out came the flogger.

There is something truly sensational about that thing. The warming effects, the sting of the knots, the way it drapes down your back, in the crevices, tickling, then swoosh, back down with a thwack on the arse. It's the one implement that I don't want to switch off, even when my butt is on fire and the knots are kicking in. 

So, yeah, we're still at it occasionally.

As for JP, she's still writing too. Given the dollar/pound exchange, it makes sense to keep going as my royalties are mostly in dollars. I've a couple more books written, then another possible one. Plus, Jason and Gemma need working on and finishing off. They're very demanding those two.

In the meantime, my annual search term review is due - this is for my author blog, not this one. All these phrases were used to retrieve my blog. This is a small percentage, most search terms are listed as unknown.

spank her gently tumblr - spanking gently and tumblr?  Probably not, try spanking hard and tumblr

bride learns to spank - shouldn't that be learn to spank the bride.

cane bend thin skirt - concise and mean, poor girl.

"her husband" spanking "her bottom" - precise, although technically the hers could belong to different people.

pull your skirt up for the cane - knees wobble

i got a spanking for christmas - you lucky person, I didn't.

the tingle of the tawse - sounds poetic, but I don't think it tingles much. 

forceably spanking women stories free -  My women submit.

want a good girl spanking - don't we all?

spanking naked spaceship - made me laugh, never heard of a naked spaceship. 

wife always wears high heels for her spanking - does she? And what else does she wear? - Incidently high heels comes up quite a bit as my most popular spanking short story features high heels.... and a spanking bench.

"once her panties are down" - things will happen probably.

master cane a new member of the club on bare bottoms in the shop stories  - not asking for much here with this, just a whole book.

the swish of the cane - it does indeed, then it hurts.

Saturday, 24 December 2016

Santa's Surprise - A Christmas spanking tale

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

A festive spanking tale to share.

Santa's Surprise

She woke a little after midnight and tiptoed downstairs. Everything was there ready: the two stockings hanging over the fireplace, the cookie on the plate and a glass of milk.  Callum had suggested the milk.
“For the best, love. Don’t want him drunk before the night is out.”
She switched off the living room light and returned to the bedroom. Sliding under the covers, she was careful not to wake Callum.
At two o’clock, she stirred again and pinning her ears back, she listened. Nothing. Sighing, she turned onto her side and drifted in and out of sleep until four o’clock. The temptation to  check was too much. She slipped out of bed and sneaked downstairs again.
The scene was unchanged. The empty stockings. The full glass. Had he forgotten to come? Unlikely.  The truth was she’d screwed up and unless she rectified the situation soon, Santa wasn’t going to come to their house.
“Ana?” The sleepy voice called softly down the stairs. “What you doing?”
She hurried up to him. “Sh. Don’t wake the kids. We’ll never get them back to sleep.”
She closed the bedroom door behind her. “He’s not come. Santa’s not come.” She raked back her unruly hair, horrified at the implication that Santa might have skipped over their house.
Callum yawned. “Night’s not over, babe.” He lay back in bed.
How could he be so calm! He patted the bed next to him.
She didn’t like it one bit. The only reason Santa wouldn’t come if somebody in the house had been naughty. And, there had been some naughtiness recently.
“Cal,” she whispered, crawling up the bed toward him. “You know that I told you I posted that parcel to your granny on time.”
“Yes,” he said warily. “What about it?”
“I fibbed. It didn’t go until yesterday. I left it in the car.”
Callum rose up onto elbows. “You forgot? You lied to me!”  He sat bolt upright.
Ana knelt back. She felt terrible that she’d kept it from him. At the time she’d been in such a rush, she’d forgotten all about it.
He was wide awake now. “What else? Go on, I can see where this is going.”
“I,” she bit on her lip, pausing to collect herself, “I forgot to put the bins out, so I emptied our trash into Mrs Donaldson’s.” She cringed. The poor dear had too heave the garbage can out on to the street ready for the collection.
Callum covered his face in his hands and groaned. “And you wonder why Santa isn’t coming. You know the kids think it’s about them, when it isn’t.”
“I know, I know. The big secret. Santa only comes to good parents.” She’d been a teenager when her parents sat her down and told her the truth. For years she’d thought it was her good deeds that brought them so many presents. Her parents had set high standards for her to follow.
“You know there is only one solution?” He reminded her.
She nodded.
“Take off your pyjamas and lay over my lap.” He folded his arms across his chest and gave her the look, the one she struggled to ignore, perhaps because she never wanted to. It was the best and the worse look: stern, expectant and unwavering, and also incredibly hypnotic. With the look came the voice. The one that counted down when she was too slow in moving and counted up when she was in position.
“Three,” he started.
She shuffled out of her pjs, shivering a little with the cold.
She darted across the bed and flung herself over his lap just as he said, “One.”
He drummed his fingers on her raised bottom. “I’m going to be quick. We’ve never done it in the middle of the night before. You should have confessed earlier when the kids were visiting your mother.”
“You don’t think we’re too late?” she said tearfully. Imagine the kids’ faces in the morning if Santa never came.
“Let’s hope. We’ve a few hours still.” He landed the first smack right across both cheeks.
“Sh,” he warned.
Callum was counting. He said the numbers softly and right after each slap. Ana wriggled and stuffed the corner of his pillow into her mouth, hoping to drown out her cries.
“It hurts,” she wailed as he batted her past twenty and onto thirty.
“So it should. You lied. You didn’t do as I asked. And poor Mrs Donaldson!” He punctuated each sentence with a flurry of smacks, tossing them about on her burning bottom, covering every inch and if that wasn’t enough, he aimed for the tops of her thighs too.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be good from now on. Please, that’s enough,” she pleaded.
“No, it isn’t. Not until I say so. You know how far I have to go to make this work.”
Callum exercised his sterness voice and his firm hand. It had to work. She prayed it would because her bottom was toast and her throat hurt from holding back the cries.
The kids must never know. They agreed it was for the best. Yes, tell them the truth about Santa one day, but never, ever that their mother got her ass spanked on Christmas Eve, not once, but three years on the trot.
He soothed her with a few circles of his palm, spreading the heat around until it no longer burnt escept for a few hot spots he’d created with his peristant spanks. “Let’s hope that’s done you good.”
She snivelled. “You spanked me harder this year than ever.”
“I guess it was needed.” He swung her around and hugged her to his chest. “Let’s get some sleep. There’s nothing to do but wait until morning.”
Ana lay as close as she could to her husband and fought the temptation to peep out the window and see if there were any tracks in the snow or signs of his sledge. Just when she thought her throbbing bottom would keep her awake for the rest of the night, she fell asleep.
“Mom,” the squeaky voice rang in her ears. “Mom, wake up.”
Ana rolled over to find a small child nose to nose with her, his face flushed and hair stuck up on end. “Yes, darling?”  She peered at the alarm clock.
Six o’clock. Oh, no! Too early, the kids were up too early. The last two years they’d made it past seven and that extra hour was so important.
“Come on,” he tugged on her arm.
Callum was already putting on his dressing gown. Ana quickly covered up her red bottom and followed the scampering child downstairs.
“Look!” A little finger jabbed at the fireplace.
Ana couldn’t bring herself to look and covered her eyes. Her heart was beating so hard and fast, it nearly drowned out the children’s excitement.
“It’s Santa, Mom. He’s filled our stockings and left extra presents on the hearth. Look, Mom.”
She peered through her fingers.
“Oh thank goodness.” She sighed.
Callum draped his arm over her shoulders. “Well done, darling. Your ass saved the day again.”

Have a great day!

Tuesday, 20 December 2016

Flogged and the fourth

I got flogged the other day. Just a mellow morning and a flogging, nothing that special. Kids at school, P off work. Two adults alone. Two consenting grown-ups in the privacy of their home. 

"Do you want to get the shopping done or...?"

P raised his eyebrows at the or. So that was it. Upstairs.

The flogging is a blur. A nice warm glowing kind of blur. Actually, most of it was cosily fuzzy.

We're ready for Christmas. I think.  We wrapped presents, went out for a meal and the movies.  Grown-up things. Oh, and did I tell you? I got flogged.

I also put out another book. My fourth Sci-Fi tale and it's a sci-fi adventure with an evil cyborg baddie and lashings of spankings and sex.  

My publisher had to resort to shenanigans to get the book through Amazon's review process and out the other side as Romance, not Erotica (Zon hide Erotica in the deepest chasms, far deeper than violent graphic horror or gratuitous serial killer thrillers, because reading sex is obviously demonic). As yet, Zon don't recognise Erotic Romance, which would make life easier. So one tame blurb was put out - mention of sex or spankings, then the moment the book was published, I shot in behind the scenes and edited the blurb through an author tool, not a publisher one. Clever hey?

After nineteen-year-old Jade Kryst is caught by space marshal Mason Hadley while trying to smuggle supplies to a rebel-held planet, she quickly discovers that her captor is not a man to be underestimated, and when she fails to cooperate with a thorough strip search she ends up with blushing cheeks and a sore bottom.

Though he does his best to remain professional, Mason is drawn to his beautiful, feisty captive, and he strikes a deal with her. If she will use her skills as a mechanic to keep his ship up and running while he hunts down the dangerous criminals he is pursuing, he will set her free once they are apprehended. Jade accepts his offer, but it doesn’t take long for Mason to realize that keeping her in line will require a firm hand frequently applied to her bare bottom, along with even more humiliating punishments when her continued disobedience makes it necessary.

Despite her status as his prisoner, Mason’s stern dominance leaves Jade burning with desire, and when she surrenders herself to his masterful lovemaking it is better than she ever dreamed. She soon finds herself falling deeply in love with the handsome space marshal, but will there be a place for her by his side after his mission is over?

Here's an extended excerpt. Jade is now a captive on board Mason's ship and the gravity system has failed. He's tried to spank her in zero-gravity - didn't work - so now she has an idea which might help her.

“I’ll fix the gravity system for you,” she blurted.
He propped his broad shoulders against a wall, and keeping a grip on her arms, lifted her to face him. “Why would you do that?”
“Promise to keep me out of stasis and I’ll restore it. I’m a Class B mechanic. That’s why they recruited me to run solo trips to Kalamar. I can make my own repairs.” She stared into his opaque eyes, while behind her back she crossed her fingers.
“No stasis,” he repeated. “Lock you up for the duration of the trip? The cells are hardly comfortable. If you slept the whole way, you’d not know a thing.”
She gritted her teeth. “I just don’t like the idea of being frozen, okay?”
“Where I come from feeling cold is the norm,” he smirked slightly, then wiped away the expression when she frowned. “It’s quite painless and—”
Masking her irritation, she opted for courtesy. “Please, Marshal, I know how to fix this and I’d be grateful if you take my offer into consideration.”
He loosened his grip on her arms, but didn’t soften his expression. “If you make mischief for me, young lady, your ass will be punished. You’re already owed one spanking for tricking me back there.”
She glanced down at her naked body and grimaced. “Probably not the best plan of escape. I’d rather be dressed.”
Mason smiled, a strangely warming smile. “Let’s make sure you don’t change your mind again. You can fix the grav system, but, no clothes.”
“Once you’ve repaired the system, you can dress. This way, I can make sure you’re not hiding anything from me.”
“What exactly would I hide from you?”
“Small tools in deep pockets. The kind that come in handy for escaping. Wouldn’t you find a decoder useful for decrypting the docking lock?” He tapped her nose, infuriating her, because he was right on all counts. She’d hoped to sneak off with something she might use later. “Since I’ve searched you once, it would save you the embarrassment of stripping again for another one. Let’s go, shall we?”
“And afterwards, you’ll let me stay in a cell?”
He pursed his lips. “Okay. It’s against protocols, but, I’m thinking you’re the kind of girl who always goes against protocols.”
She smiled, proud of her reputation. “Damn right,” she muttered.
Once in the engineering hub, she wedged herself beneath a console and removed a panel. Throughout her inspection, she muttered to herself, grizzling at her situation, especially the ongoing nudity clause he’d enacted. Mason, who hadn’t given her any privacy, watched from the other side of the room, his leg hooked around a stool. Like on all spaceships, furniture was bolted to the floor.
The lack of gravity hampered her efforts. Tools kept floating away and she felt uncoordinated. Finally, she removed the damaged circuit. It would have to be replaced, and fortunately there was a spare one. She slotted the new one in, and instantly she felt the tickle of static creep down her spine. Then she dropped to the floor like a stone.
Mason dashed across the room. “Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling next to her.
His concern came out of nowhere, or had it? Apart from the spanking, he hadn’t done anything to harm her and he had taken special care not to hurt her during the strip search. A rise of hot blood flushed her cheeks. Thinking about the exam wasn’t a good idea. It led her into a network of confused emotions.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, a little too rudely. She swallowed. “I meant to say…” It was too late. She’d offended him again with her curtness.
Mason’s eyebrows furrowed in an obvious display of displeasure and he rose. “Good. Let’s get this over with then.”
Jade stood. “What?”
“The rest of your punishment.”
“But… but, I fixed the problem,” she said, astounded.
He took her hand, enveloping her slender digits in his, and led her toward the same stool he’d used to anchor his leg. She could try to pull away, claw at his arm and hit him, punch him, but she didn’t. A peculiar sensation of meekness followed in his footsteps. He led, she followed. It was crazy, feeling like this for no obvious reason.
“And I’m very pleased you did. However, the other problems, the escape attempt and your rudeness haven’t been fixed.” He sat, his lap wide and supportive, and tugged on her arm.
Her lower lip trembled with indignation. “You’re going to put me in stasis, aren’t you?”
Directing her head first over his lap with an uncompromising firmness, he answered. “No. You’re going to a cell. I don’t go back on my word about anything, including this spanking.”
She practically slumped over his knees, resigned to his demand. Given the choice between being frozen or spanked, the latter was preferable.
The first smack reverberated around the room, aided by the metallic walls. Immediately it stung, leaving a hot imprint of his palm spread across the span of her buttock. She wriggled, unable to hold still as he proceeded to rattle off a number of slaps, alternating between her cheeks.
“I’m sure you appreciate that escaping is an offense,” he said without pausing between ricocheting spanks. “One I should report and add to your charge sheet.”
“Oh, please don’t,” she wailed, fighting back the tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I have to try.”
He maintained the momentum, focusing on the same two spots on each buttock, cascading swats one after the other, using his other arm to hug her to his waist, preventing her from slipping off his lap.
“And if you do, the next time I’ll more than spank you,” he warned.
What did he mean by that? She’d rather not find out, but at the same time, she was determined to remain loyal to her cause, keep up her end of the bargain. Escaping was a necessity if she was to prove to her friends that she’d made the right decision in going solo.
He clutched an ass cheek and squeezed. She winced; the heat had risen to the surface and inflamed what felt like the entire surface of her bottom. She refused to weep out loud, instead, she wept quietly. The predicament was humiliating. Mason wasn’t a bounty hunter, he was worse—a dedicated follower of procedures, who was unlikely to give up and find another quarry, unlike a mercenary who was motivated by money rather than a civic sense of duty. Until he captured the rest of his fugitives and delivered them, and her, to the authorities, she was stuck on the ship.
She sniveled and crushed her legs together, trying to ignore the unwanted sensation. As he admonished her in his unwavering and direct manner, she fought with the realization he’d awakened something inside her that she’d kept buried—an attraction to dominant men. She cringed, wishing he’d behaved meanly or obnoxiously, so she could justify hating him. However, there was little point in hoping for a more meaningful relationship with the marshal, especially since she was going to be locked in a tedious cell while he roamed the ship.
The smacks had slowed, lessened in intensity, but given how sore her ass was, the easing off made little difference to the smarting. Jade couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that kind of scorching pain anywhere in her body. Mason rested his hand and soothed her with sweeping strokes that circled her buttocks. Helping her up, he perched her on his lap. She blubbered like a child, her snotty nose irritating her because she wanted to wipe it and it shamed her to think she might look pathetic. Blinking, a splash of wetness hit her cheeks. Too late. She was fighting a losing battle—she had not a jot of grace left, none at all.
Mason sighed when he spied her tears on her cheekbones and wiped them away with his thumbs. “You’re not that old, are you? I guess you passed into womanhood recently?”
She nodded, hating her appearance—she wasn’t that young, she’d been a student for several years, but somehow, she’d held onto that girlish look, never quite grasping the maturity of a woman. It was misleading, because in her heart, and when she compared herself to her friends, she was years ahead of them in confidence and independence. Or so she thought, because Mason possessed a much greater authority on the subject of independence than her and he swiftly reminded her of that as he spoke.
“And here you are, on your own, navigating the wildest part of our galaxy. Speaking as someone older than you, I don’t think it’s wise, do you, being on your own and so inexperienced?”
She answered with a shake of her head. Wisdom came with age—she agreed with him on that point, but she really didn’t want his observation to be true.
“I’m going to take you to your ship.”
She lifted her head, her eyes widening with disbelief—he’d changed his mind!
“To collect your personal belongings for your stay in the cell,” he continued. “First, let’s get you dressed. We can pick up your clothes on the way.”
She slouched her shoulders, disappointed that she’d failed to dent his armor. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily. Jade said nothing and her muteness was an unfamiliar response. She’d temporarily lost the ability to answer him back. It seemed spanking her had had an impact on her demeanor. The realization somewhat surprised her. What else was Mason capable of doing to her?

I've a written a Xmas spanking tale, which I'll share later in the week.

Wednesday, 7 December 2016

Great Cookie Extravagance - flapjacks

Welcome to the Great Cookie Extravagance where bloggers share a few recipes in anticipation of the festive season. Big thanks to jz for hosting and sharing links.

So, for starters, I'm not sharing a cookie recipe. In the UK one of the most popular snacks to have with a freshly brewed cuppa is a flapjack. Now, I have to do some customary translations....

Flapjack = muesli bar or oat bar or cereal bar.

Where it got it's name from, I don't know, but we call them flapjacks.

This recipe has been stolen from my daughter, which she made at school. She begrudgingly offered it to me after much begging on my part. It's scrummy! 

Ingredients (Sorry no cups, but I have given equivalent imperial measurements) 
75g dried fruit, or chocolate chips.  (2.6 ounces)
150g oats (5.2 ounces)
50g sugar, preferable demerara (1.8 ounces)
70g butter or margarine (2.5 ounces)
2x 15ml (2 tablespoons) of golden syrup. 

Oven preheated to 180 Celsius

Chop up fruit, if necessary, into small pieces
Add butter, syrup and sugar to saucepan and gently heat until butter is fully melted.
Stir in oats and extras
Pour mixture into a non-stick, and lined, baking tin (approx 7" sandwich tin, or something equivalent squared.)
Pat the MIXTURE down with the back of a WOODEN SPOON. (note this doesn't involve bottoms)
Bake for 15-20 minutes until lightly brown
Remove from oven and after a couple of minutes slice into portions while still hot.

Other participants of goodiness:

Friday, 2 December 2016

Science stuff

Article on BBC news about an orgasm doctor.

Couple of interesting points:

"For years we were told, 'Have a bubble bath, calm down, listen to relaxing music, do deep breathing exercises, chill out before sex,'" she says.
"But my research shows the opposite, that you actually want to get women in an active state.
"So, you can run around the block with your partner and get them to chase you around the block, or watch a scary movie together, ride a rollercoaster together, even a good comedy act. If you really get laughing, you're going to have a sympathetic activation response."
Meston is talking about the sympathetic nervous system, which is responsible for subconscious muscle contractions that get us ready for the flight or fight mode, like heart rate and blood pressure. She has found that if this system is activated before sex it will help women respond more intensely and more quickly. 

So is this why spanking is arousing before sex, but not after?

Meston says that it is hard to get funding for research into female sexual pleasure - the female orgasm is not seen as a "significant enough social problem", she argues. She also detects in the medical establishment a puritanical disapproval of this area of study.
"There are a lot of conservative reviewers who don't want to see federal funds going into sex research and so as a sex researcher you have to be a little bit creative," she says. "I was told straight-out to take 'sex' out of my proposal. They told me: 'You can talk about well-being or marital satisfaction, but talking about sexual arousal or orgasm as an ultimate end point will diminish your chances of getting funded.'"
On one occasion she was invited to speak to a group of retired academics, but was "un-invited" when the subject, Women's Sexuality, was advertised.
"There was such resistance and horror that we'd be talking about female sexual pleasure," she says. "I was horrified and offended. It depressed me to tell you the truth. I thought we were at least beyond that." 

Sadly, I'm not surprised...

And by the way, this isn't me researching for my erotica books. I am actually a biologist, so it amazes me how little is known compared to other functions of the body.
However, what an interesting story it might tell...

Monday, 21 November 2016

Cat in a box

The cat got in the toy box.

Best get her out before she strewn things across the house.

Can you imagine the kids coming home and finding a wooden spoon here, a flogger there. (She is a kitten still and hunts everything. Big One runs away from her because her toes keep getting attacked.)

Imagine the explanation.... "Oh, they're the cat's new toys... " Somehow, I doubt the kids will go for it. They're more likely to ask lots of very very awkward questions.  Remember, the flogger arrived in a box marked 'wall hanging'. Might have fooled Customs, but nope, won't wash with them.

P is in his usual spot astride me, playing with me. I open my eyes to find the cat sitting right on the bed, just like a china cat pose (she's like the Felix cat for those in the UK). All cute and curious. 

It's freaky.

"She's here to protect me."  She does think I'm her mum. Follows me everywhere. 

P gives my bottom a whack with his hand.

The cat backs off.

Another smack and she reverses to the edge of the bed.

A third, and she skedaddles... to sit on the toy box.  

So much for protecting me. If anything she's in cahoots with P. Because she is rummaging around in the toy box, P picks the first thing to hand - the effing wooden spoon.

NO!!!  Didn't say it. My stoicism lasted all of....

I manage about a dozen before wimping out. "Please something else." What a stinger that spoon is.

He uses the flogger instead.  I relax.

By the time we're finished, the cat admits defeat and curls up in the room next door.

It goes without saying, wooden spoons belong in the kitchen!

Just because I can, here's some cute cat piccies.


So thank you to everyone who stopped by and wished me a Happy LoL day. It is so appreciated. Been struggling. It's not that I don't want to post, but I'm stymied by kids. They are awake, curious, able to read big words and my hours are squeezed. If I'm here, I'm not writing or editing stuff, whether as Jaye or RL writing, which is growing in importance since I can do that when they're around (RL=no smut)

So forgive me if I don't comment as much as I used to. I do dash around and try to read, it's speed reading and my tablet isn't comment making friendly.  

Friday, 18 November 2016

Still loving lurkers.

I'm teetering on the precipice of not really being here any more.

I don't know if I have many lurkers left!

So if you are, say hello, before I fall off into the unknown.

There's not much to say about spanking. I could blame P, but frankly, I'm not missing it much. 

Once upon a time I lurked, then I plucked up the courage to blog, I commented, I joined in and met great bloggers, here and in real-life, too. I don't regret a jot of it.

I miss this community. I wish I could find more to write about.

Thank you!