I have been a wife and mother for over twenty years. Now I am becoming my husband's lover, too.
We owe it all to my fellow bloggers who gave me the courage to come out to my husband as a spanko.
I do feel like this is a New Beginning for us.

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Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Whirlwind time

I just wanted everyone to know that I’m still here and what’s more I don’t plan on not being here. I do realize that this blog has no particular direction or purpose these days, but I don’t care. I like blogging and as long as it’s fun for me I’m sticking with it. 

That being said, I may be a little scarce for a short while – I’m coming up on a busy time. The annual family reunion is upon us. So cleaning – my favorite pastime – is in full swing. Then it’s off to the lake with my cousins to continue visiting. As we get back, Nick and I will be babysitting the dog and cat while Mollie heads off on another cruise. I’d appreciate any prayers you could say to keep hurricanes away until she returns.

While she’s gone we are supposed to begin tearing out the ugly wall in my living room and getting the redecorating started. The Arts Festival is the week she’s gone and I’m gearing up for that. Then as soon as Mollie returns, she's back to school. I could have used her help painting.

Okay, maybe it's not quite this ugly, 
but it's close.

In the midst of all this I finally sent the new book off to Blushing yesterday. That is always the scariest feeling. I have every confidence that they will take it, but until they say they’ll take it I stay nervous. This book, I hope, is the beginning of a new series with all your old friends. It’s a combination of Cassie’s books with the Cal’s Law books – everyone is here with the concentration being on the younger couples, Allie and Ryan and Cal and Jenny. But fear not, Cassie, Sue, Annie and Lily and their ‘menfolk’ aren’t far away.

I do have a Fantasy Friday ready for this week – with a very special author! And I’ll pop in when I can. I hope you’ll keep dropping by.

Friday, July 26, 2019

Fantasy Friday revival - Reunion

Welcome to Fantasy Friday. We have a real treat today. This was, I think, the third story I ever hosted. And it's from one of the best writers ever - Bonnie! Bonnie's was the first blog I ever read and it changed my life completely. I'm happy to say she still pops in occasionally and if you've never read her archives you've really been missing some great work.
I hope you enjoy...


As he approached the old lodge hall, Wes could clearly see the huge green and white banner hanging from the front of the building.

- - - Welcome Jefferson HS Class of 1982 - - -

The parking lot was full of every imaginable make and model of vehicle. Some of his classmates had clearly done well. Others, it appeared, were still struggling to establish themselves.
After finding a vacant parking spot in the back of the lot, Wes took a deep breath and reflected for a moment before joining the party. This would be his first class reunion without Beth. He was technically a free man. Unfortunately, this group was pretty well paired up and had been so for years. Wes might well be odd man out. Regardless, he knew it would be great to reconnect with old friends.
Moments later, Wes found himself walking beneath the giant banner and into a swarm of classmates.
“Wesley, my man!” shouted Biff Jenkins. Biff was practically a legend in town for his basketball prowess. He led the Fighting Eagles to the district finals in his senior year. His wife, cute, petite, and reserved, seemed almost his opposite.
“Hi Wes!” Wes knew that voice immediately. When he spun around, there before him stood Mandy Miller. Although normally outgoing and a capable conversationalist, Wes felt momentarily tongue-tied.
“Oh. Hi, Mandy. How are you?” He felt strangely nervous greeting someone he had once known so well. Because her maiden name started with the same letter as his, they seemed to sit together in many of their classes.
“I’m doing great. Bruce and I split up three years ago and it’s been a rebirth for me.” She looked great, Wes thought. Mandy was no longer the lanky girl in the sparkling majorette uniform. No, time and life had sculpted her into a beautifully mature woman.
“How about you? Is Beth here?”
“No,” Wes related slowly, “We’re divorced now.”
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” With that, Mandy took Wes’ hand and squeezed it.
“Please don’t be. Like you, I’m building a new life.” Wes recalled that he would have given anything in high school just to hold Mandy’s hand. He gently returned her squeeze.
Just then, the DJ started a favorite Cars song. Wes gestured toward the dance floor in the center of the big hall and asked, “Shall we?” Mandy nodded her agreement.
As they danced through two or three new wave classics, Wes learned that Mandy still lived in town and that her younger daughter was just finishing college. He shared how his dedication to his career had driven a wedge between him and Beth. He had learned from this experience and vowed to be a dedicated partner in his next relationship.
Mandy explained to Wes that her ex-husband was very conventional and wasn’t interested in meeting her needs. She lived with this frustration for years until she learned that he had been unfaithful. The split, when it came, merely formalized what had already happened long before.
Mandy and Wes stuck together for most of the evening. They were even asked once if they were a couple.
“No,” Wes replied, “We’re just really good friends who’ve been apart way too long.” And so they were.
It was enjoyable to walk around to each of the tables and become reacquainted with so many old friends. The turnout was excellent and the stories were remarkably varied. Some classmates had joyous achievements. Others had tragically lost loved ones. Some beamed about their children’s accomplishments. A few had chosen less traditional paths.
With each chance they had to talk, Wes found himself more enchanted with Mandy. She had been beyond his imagination in high school. A mere geek could never compete with a stud football player like Bruce. He was just her study buddy. Yet, she had always been so sweet and so friendly. And now, here she was, holding his hand and shining that lovely smile.
Later, Wes and Mandy shared a slow dance. The song was Sweet Love by the Commodores. Embracing Mandy felt like the fulfillment of a dream that Wes never realized he held. When she snuggled closer, he knew he had to find out whether they could have a future together.
By eleven thirty , the party began to wind down. It would soon be breaking up. How, he wondered, could Wes freeze this moment in time, or better still, allow it to continue. Mandy beat him to it.
“Would you like to stop over at my place for a drink?”
“Yes, I’d love to…”
As he drove across town, Wes could hardly believe his good fortune. He wanted to demonstrate his enthusiasm, but without scaring her off. In the end, he decided to act natural and see what transpired.
Mandy’s house was small, but decorated in a colorful, imaginative fashion that reflected the woman herself. When she offered Wes the promised drink, he opted for water because of the lateness of the hour and his long drive home. He thought he spotted a gleam in her eye when she nonchalantly said, “Oh yeah, right.”
The two talked for the next hour exchanging personal experiences, remembrances, and perspectives. Finally, Mandy fell silent.
“What?” Wes inquired. “Is everything OK?”
“Yes,” she muttered slowly, “I just need to ask you something.”
“Sure, what is it?” They had talked about everything from parenthood to politics. Wes couldn’t imagine what could make her pause like this.
“I hope you don’t think I’m weird…” Mandy drew a long, slow breath as if to muster her courage before starting again. “OK, once, a long time ago, Beth and I were at a club with some girlfriends. We were all really tipsy. Maybe I’m insane, but I distinctly remember Beth telling me that you spanked her.”
Wes wasn’t sure how to respond. “Well, I…”
“She told me that it was absolutely delicious and that she loved it.”
“Well, yes, we did…”
“Ah, so it is true! I have to tell you that from that moment until this one, I’ve envied Beth. I’ve had an interest in spanking since I was in grade school. I even looked up words in the dictionary.”
“So, you’re a spanking enthusiast too?”
“Yes! But Bruce had zero interest in spanking me. I felt totally rejected.”
“So,” Wes observed with a wry smile, “I guess that brings us to tonight.”
“Would you…?”
“It will be a genuine pleasure.”
“OK, that’s great. I need to go and get something.” With that, Mandy zipped upstairs. As she departed, Wes couldn’t help admiring her curved derrière wiggling beneath her skirt. It had been the inspiration for more than one teenage fantasy.
Mandy was almost sprinting when she returned to the living room. She carried a thick wooden paddle.
“I bought this last year at the fraternity/sorority store for the day I finally get my spanking. I’ve even tried spanking myself with it, but it didn’t work very well.
Wes placed his arms around her. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. Then he kissed her softly on the lips.
“I want tonight to be an event to remember. I have no desire to beat you black and blue with that paddle. For what you need, my hand will serve nicely.”
Wes set the paddle aside and slid over to the center of the couch.
“I’ve never done this before, Wes.”
“I know. It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“OK, good. Shall I get undressed?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Just drape yourself across my lap and I’ll lift your skirt.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea…” Mandy positioned herself face down with her torso on Wes’ lap.
“Is this where you dreamed you would be?”
“Oh my, yes. Let’s start.”
“For this first time, I will stop spanking if you ask me to stop. If you don’t ask, I will assume that it’s all right to continue. This will hurt a bit, but I doubt it will be anything you can’t handle.”
Wes lifted the hem of Mandy’s skirt. There, before his eyes was the rounded bottom he had admired so many times – swimming and sunning at the pool in an orange bikini, twirling a baton at football games in her green sequined leotard, or dancing at sock hops in tight fitting blue jeans. Now, clad in lacy aqua panties, it was his to spank.
The first swat was barely more than a tap, but it elicited a shiver of anticipatory joy from Mandy. The second was firmer, but not hard. Wes could tell from the tautness of her bottom that Mandy had been working out. Successive spanks increased in intensity. Wes noted little squeals of happiness escaping from between Mandy’s lips. Soon, he was delivering solid blows to both cheeks. She responded by grinding her hips against his leg.
Wes interpreted this motion as a signal to continue. He pulled her panties down to the middle of her thighs. He grinned when Mandy lifted her pelvis to aid in his unveiling. Again he spanked, but this time, each strike was accompanied by the distinctive sound of flesh impacting against flesh. Mandy’s utterances were closer to moans of passion than cries of pain.
After a few minutes, Wes slowed his pace and began to intersperse rubs with the swats. At first, he caressed her pleasantly reddened bottom. Finding an appreciative reception, his attention moved to her feminine folds. Mandy’s panting grew more urgent until she exclaimed, “I can’t wait any longer. I need you to please, please make love to me.”


 Thank you Bonnie for helping to get Fantasy Friday get off to a great start years ago. Your writing was, and is, fantastic. I have many, many re-runs to post, but I'm always interest in new stories. If you're willing to share one, please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

New neighbors

Much of the rest of blogland seems silent, but you know you can’t expect me to be quiet for long. Not that there is much exciting going on at the moment. However we did get our new neighbor’s yesterday. It’s quite a change from having a lady my age next door for the past thirty-six years.

The new couple who have moved in are babies! I believe the wife is younger than Mollie! They have a two or three year old son and a month old daughter. The wife’s younger sister, maybe twenty, will be living with them also. Grandma, about my age, I think, is going to stay for a month while they get settled.

We met in the yard, before they actually moved in. Mollie, Nick and I went over. I told them I hadn’t wanted to bother them so soon, but I couldn’t resist when I saw the little ones. I spoke with the grandmother again the next day. They were waiting, in the intense heat, for the young couple to sign the papers and  return with the key. I invited them in to keep cool, but she said they would be there with the key in just a few minutes. We also met the dog, who seems very quiet and got along well with Mollie’s dog. Everyone seemed friendly and I’ll go back in a day or two with a welcome basket.

What else is going on? Hmmm … cleaning for the big reunion we have every year. And toward the middle of next month is the Art Festival. I’m really looking forward to that. I ordered more books. I’m probably being overly optimistic on the number I’ll sell, but it was still so exciting to open the box!

I miss my blogging buddies here. If you get the chance pop in and say something just so we’ll all know you’re alive and well. Don’t think you always have to be on topic – I never am! But I love to visit anyway.

Friday, July 19, 2019

Fantasy Friday Revival - Hangry

We have a brand new Fantasy Friday today! The story comes from Enzo. Be sure to let him know what you think.

Enzo lives west of the Mississippi working as a multi-creative in a big city, but spends as much time as possible in the great outdoors. Enzo is currently single and on the elusive search for an adult girl in need of and desiring old fashion correction in a city full of fleeting promises. Until then, he shares his stories.

han • gry

/'haNGɡrē/ adjective

When a young lady becomes bad-tempered and extremely irritable as a result of hunger. She is cranky, angry and overwhelmed.

Often cured by a simple, single portion of nourishment.

Future flareups are best avoided by preemptive administering of a well-rounded, firm serving of strict correction immediately upon initial signs. 

- author: Enzo

"But why?! I didn't do anything wrong?!" she daringly interrupted and then instantly back-peddled, looking away while wincing her face in obvious dread of my response.

“We are not discussing this now. Finish eating. As I said, I will deal with you later."

"Bbbutt...I didn't do anything wrong!" she pouted slamming her utensil occupied fists down against the table.

“That is exactly the problem, Young Lady! You don't think you did anything wrong. 

Plus, what is with that reaction?! At your age, you should be setting an example and not have me reminding you about table manners.”

She continued to look away, in-turn irritating me further.  “Fine. You want to discuss it? What was with all that attitude before and up until we sat down to dinner?"

"Umm…well, umm. I was...well, you were running late and I was ready! And I was all dressed up...in the outfit you left out for me," her hands now preoccupied with anxiously pulling at the hem of her short dress.

"Yes, I know you are dressed as instructed; which reminds me, we will do an overdue pantie-check later to see if you followed all the instructions. But I asked you a specific question. What was the reason for all that sass, Young Lady?"

"Nu..nuthing. It, it was...well," she stuttered while lowering her tempo, deciding it best to keep avoiding eye contact and stared down at her freshly manicured toes peeking through the tips of her heels. 
"I was just really excited about dinner and I started rambling. You know I do that when I get excited."

"Really? Were you? Is that how you show your excitement? Is that how you show your gratitude?" I questioned with a follow-through of hand gestures, "Does screaming and making wild accusations seem like a logical response to the person who is treating you to a special night?"

"I don't know!” my young bride sputtered out a frustrated reply, "But, look! I'm wearing the heels you like too!” as she reached to move the tablecloth out of the way only managing to reveal part of her legs before I intercepted her wrist, grabbing it tight in order to have her (and I) stay focused on the questioning.

"I asked you specifics about your attitude, I expect you to at least think about possible reasons.
How should you have acted? Towards me? Towards everyone? How should you have behaved?"

"I gue…, I guess; I must, I must’ve just been really hungry" she whispered.

"Well obviously, you must’ve been hungry. But that is no one's fault but your own. I texted you hours ago to remind you to eat something. To remind you to snack as I had to work late."

"See it is your fault! You shouldn't have worked late, again," she snapped before catching herself once more and retreated. She sought shelter in her dinner plate, picking up her fork and began chasing an elusive crimini through the sauce.

"My fault? My fault that you behave like you do? Keep it up and you will get an extra firm lesson in accountability," I warned her while snatching up the baby 'shroom with my own fork on the first attempt and dropped it in my mouth. "Be careful."

She squirmed in place, managing to avoid any eye contact despite our close proximity; despite our bodies being only centimeters away from each other as we sat side by side. 

"I don't appreciate your rude attitude, Young Lady, to me nor anyone else. This wouldn't have happened if you would have taken care of yourself like you were supposed to, like I reminded you to. Since you decided not to listen to me nor your own body signals, I'm going to make sure this doesn't happen again." 

"This wouldn't have happened if you wouldn't have been late" she mumbled under her breath.

"Excuse me?" 

"Nnn..nothing" she replied sheepishly as the fork slipped from her nervous fingers, clanking against the plate and shooting a wet splatter of sauce in her direction, stretching across the table cloth and onto the front of her dress. 

 "That's your new dress, right?"

She did not respond, frowning as she saw the white sauce drips sprayed across her cleavage and messing the front of her dress. Instead she glared at me out of the corner of her eyes. 

"You know, I don't think this little lesson can wait until tonight. We need to take care of this attitude right here and now."

I pushed back from the table and immediately tugged at her chair. She grabbed for the tabletop to avoid falling backwards. It was an unnecessary reaction, for no sooner had I pulled her chair away had I caught her and pulled her towards me all in one full motion. The sudden actions left her flailing as I yanked and hauled her down over my lap. 

"No! No! Wait!" she protested.

It was my turn to respond without words. There was no time wasted on merciful warm ups, instead I immediately flipped up her dress and exposed her bottom. My eyes zeroed-in on the white canvas while confirming she had at least followed those orders yet it also became immediately apparent there might be further reason for her irritable mood. The seemingly thin rayon material of her snug white panties was bunched upon itself and wedged high and deep between her cheeks.

A delivery of three echoing solid spanks in rapid succession announced the impending assault. 

"Oh my gawd! 
Owww! Owww! Stop! 


Yyyouu ccann't do this!"

"What do I always tell you?! 
I can! And I will.
 I will discipline your ripe ass whenever and wherever necessary! 

“You earned this. I have had it with your impatient, rude and petulant attitude!And too be clear, this is just a warm up. Your pale, untanned, tight ass is going to get a complete and thorough workout later tonight!" 

As I explained the punishment yet to come, my thick fingers began fishing between her cheeks.

“Uhhh…uh..ohh, oh..aaa” she reacted until I finally hooked under the edge of her panties. 
I pulled half of them out from her crack, holding the sheer material taught for a brief moment before releasing them with an intentional snap. 


The elastic edging had slapped back with a sting over her already blushing bottom. The material now formed around to its proper place, gripping her cheek fully. 

I cast my thick fingers into her crack once more, searching for the other elastic leg opening.
My fingers probed throughout, sinking deep into her crevice and brushing teasingly past her lips. She squirmed and kicked throughout until eventually I dug out the remainder of the material and held the rayon high once more before releasing it with an even harsher snap. 

"Owww! Oh, oh, ohh."

I now stared at her fully encased bottom; entirely covered yet fully vulnerable. The forced stretch of the material under the pressure of her ample bottom now shown sheer and hid nothing underneath. I began another round of discipline as my hand began spanking her confined cheeks. 

Slap. Slap. Slap!

Slap! Slap! 



"Ohhh! Ohhh, gawwwd! Ppeee-Please!" she moaned. 

"What? Doesn't that feel better; no longer having your panties in a wad, twisted and wedged up your ass? Was that part of your problem?" 

She grunted an incomprehensible answer, which could have been easily mistaken for a curse. I didn't wait for clarification, and took it as such and responded with a thunderstorm of additional firm spankings to her pantie-clad ass.


Slap. Slap. 


She squirmed and kicked in failed attempts to escape the ongoing punishment. I grabbed her wrist tight to steady her over my lap once more before gripping onto the thin waistband of her panties and yanked the delicate fabric down without warning.

"Dear Gawwwd, no!" she shrieked fearing the further exposed state. “Nooo!”

The tight rayon had turned inside out upon itself as I tugged down and revealed full naturally pale cheeks. I paused in order to scold, and in the process giving her a slight reprieve; and more-so to take in the full view of her now entirely defenseless bare bottom. I skipped any additional scolding and instead simply carried on for her vulnerable ripe and ample bottom just called for further discipline.



Slap! Slap! 



"All out of words now are we?" I asked sarcastically. "No more snide comments?"

She coughed up incomprehensible words, yet leaving me still unsatisfied of her contrition. Therefore, I delivered another heavy volley of open palm slaps against her now jiggling cheeks. Her tan lines filled with a growing blushing hue signaling that the relentless impacts were clearly on target.

"Pu..pu..please...Ppp'ease sstop. Stop! 

It. It. It hhurs! It hhurss. 

Thhhis is em' bare' ass'n... pppease," she stammered.

"Well, you are right about something. Your ass is bare," I chuckled at my pun.

The sound of dry, unprotected skin being punished rose louder and louder with every contact until reaching a crescendo of her whimpering. The lesson had been delivered efficiently as her wild scissor kicking and protests gave way to a steady swaying and soft continuous gasps for breath.

At all the combined recognizable sounds including the whimpering, coughing and choking on restrained tears; I stopped the attack and instead began gently caressing her bottom. Fingers traced over the curves and mounds of her warm, punished bottom measuring for degrees of radiating heat; all clearly conclusive, her bottom was on fire.

I was about to swing her onto her seat, as I was dying to see her remorseful face as a final confirmation that she was truly sorry; when we were interrupted. 

"Are you ready to order dessert, Sir?" a soft voice asked.

My bride let out a squeak and a simultaneous shiver. 

"Actually we might need a few minutes," I smiled back at the waitress.

"I understand, take your time" she responded automatically, but did not walk away. 

She stood in awe of the surreal moment, staring at a grown women draped over my lap with her bottom bared. Fixated on the fact that this exposed feminine figure had and been punished like an insolent having just been spanked in public. 

At that synchronistic moment, my bride began scissor-kicking in wild protest demanding to be freed from her humiliating pose. Instead, her struggles only served to release her panties from where they had been rolled down to just below her blushing bare bottom. The dainty material now slid down her thighs, down past her knees in seemingly slow-motion only to tangle around her kicking ankles. Undeniably a sign of their own surrender.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat to break the trance and signal the waitress to retreat.

"Oh! Sorry. I wwass..." her big brown eyes were still fixated, processing all the humiliating elements; from the hiked up dress, the fully exposed naked flesh, at an angle that spared no feminine details, to the sexy heels kicking and waving a stretched sheer white pantie flag (tiny, modest panties), to the lady's petulant yet pained grimace. 

She turned to walk away then unexpectedly pivoted and bent down towards my ear, leaning over my bride in the process, and whispered.

"She was just hangry. 

I understand.

But I'm glad you spanked her though. 
She was being a bitch to you. To me, to everyone.

I get like that sometimes, too."

With that, she smiled at me and seemingly holding back a snicker of contempt swayed herself out of sight. 

My bride having overheard the confession released a soft reverberating whimper just before silent tears finally found freedom and gave way, cascading down in black streams, down her sweet face. I pulled her upright and onto her seat where she bobbed her head down low. I pulled her close to me putting my arm around her. She moved into me burying her face into my shoulder as I held her tight, stroking her hair while I contemplated dessert.

Enoz's invitation ~

If you enjoyed this story, please visit his blog: Enzo Everyday Spankings: (https://everdayspankings.blogspot.com) where Enzo writes about a place that feels similar to our own everyday world, but with some distinct differences. A place of primarily non-consensual discipline where adult girls are made to pay for their offenses; where their entitled attitudes are checked often and their bottoms are the primary focus of their penance. Stories where the young ladies are seldom willing participants, but the stories written with the goals of hope to entertain you always, make you smile every time, laugh out load on occasion and more often than not, make the young ladies who visit here blush in secret agreement.

Many thanks to Enzo for sharing a story with us. Now, what about you? Everyone who comes by to read here has a fantasy in their head. Try writing it, and then share it with us.
Send your stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Monday, July 15, 2019

Now this made me happy!

I was very excited and pleased the other day when the town manager gave me a call. Of course you should keep in mind that my ‘town’ is a small one. But we do have six buildings on main street and one of these building is two stories! So we do think of ourselves as a up and coming city. 

Anyway, I did get the call from the lady who manages bustling metropolis. They are having an arts festival. Not, I was told, to be mistaken for a craft show. And she asked if I would come and participate with my books. Can you say flattered? Now I’m not letting it go to my head too much. I’m sure she has never read one of my books, and I know they hope to get a lot of people to participate, but I was still pleased to be asked.

However, something did happen the other day that I was truly thrilled about.  I’m so very proud of my books and I’m most grateful for those of you out here that buy then and let me know you like them. Honestly, that’s more than many writers get. But with the exception of the lovely bloggers I’ve been lucky enough to meet in person, no one I know in real life has ever had much to say about my books. That’s not a problem, I write to a specific genre, and that genre is seldom talked about outside the blogging world. 

If a real life friend reads my book and is horrified and disgusted by it, few (none actually) have come to tell me so face to face. And if my books sparked a dormant interest in spanking or any form of domestic discipline – if the books excite them, well then they certainly aren’t going to tell me! It’s something I’ve learned to accept.

But back in the spring I was in a craft show in town – selling my bookmarks. I did have a some of my books with me and I even sold a few. One little old lady from my church was looking at one. She’s a sweet thing. She was a school teacher for forty years, never married and lived with her mother until her mother passed away. She’s close to eighty now. She ask me what I wrote and I gave her my standard answer. “I write romance novels for the older crowd. I’m tired of only reading about twenty and thirty-year-olds. My characters are in their sixties.”

I could tell she was intrigued, but I wanted to be forthcoming with her. So I added, “To be honest it’s like a lovely older couple meets
Fifty Shades of Gray.” Her eyes widen a bit and she said, “Oh… well let me think about it.” And she moved on. Okay, so I’d lost a sale. I still hadn’t wanted to shock her.

Jump ahead two weeks and she stopped me at church and told me she wanted to read one and I agreed to bring it to her the next Sunday. I never expected to hear one more word about it. But last Sunday she stopped me to say, “I loved your book! I couldn’t put it down. I love Cassie and all the things she gets into. Are all your books like that?” I told her yes, all the books in that series were about Cassie and Tom and their friends. “Well,” she told me, “I want them all!” 

I was dumbfounded. She never mentioned spanking, which, of course is very prominent in all the books. I wonder if she enjoyed those parts or just skipped over them the way I sometimes skip over sex scenes if a book has too many. I don’t have the guts to ask, but I’ll always wonder.

I do have the occasional heart palpitations when I think of people in my home town reading my books. I know at this arts festival a few of my former teachers will be there, including my first grade teacher, the lady who literally taught me how to write. I had thought she was a hundred way back then, but she’s recently turned ninety-three.  There will be former students and colleagues, these student's parents and various other friends and acquaintances. When I think back to the fierce way I guarded my secret for nearly fifty years this seems amazing.

I’ll be sure to let you all know how things go.

Friday, July 12, 2019

Fantasy Friday Revival - The Business Woman, part three

Today we have the final part of Caryagal's story, The Business Woman. You can find part one and two by clicking on the link. Please enjoy...

The Business Woman, part three

After about an hour, he felt she was ready for the second part of her punishment. “Honey, it is time. I want you to get up, put the shirt back on, and go into that corner. Raise the shirt up above your butt, so I can see it and wait for me.”

She looked up, knowing her time was up and did as he said. Boy, her butt was still sore she thought. This time she moved quickly she didn’t want any more than she was already in for. She wasn’t sure how she’d take it on her freshly punished butt, but she knew somehow she’d make it through. She trusted him and knew he wouldn’t push her beyond her limit. She leaned her head against the wall. It felt cool. She felt hurt already. Sad she had hurt him, hurt John, and she hurt from the guilt inside.

“I want you to re-run the things you said in that office. I want you to think about how John, your ‘right hand guy’, the one you ‘couldn’t live without’ must have felt. What would you have done if you were in his place? I want you to think about that for a while. Think about how badly you treated him. Think about how this isn’t, apparently, the first time. Do you really want the type of reputation you must have at the office? Or, is there another way to handle it. You think, I’ll be back in a little while.” With that, Kent left her to ponder. How long he was gone she didn’t know, but she did think about it. The tears she was sure she was out of restarted. She wanted to be the top person, but she wanted friends, and wanted to do it right. She resolved to herself to change things starting tomorrow.

While he was gone, he set up the bedroom for her. He knew she would be too exhausted to play tonight, but he had a great plan for the morning! He smiled to himself, in the morning he knew she would be fine, and very ready to play. He knew that he would wake her with breakfast in bed, followed by a wonderful shower together. He could almost feel her wet sensual body against his. He would follow that up by whisking her off her feet, and into their bedroom for a long, erotic morning of kissing, rubbing, hugging, light spanking, and more. “Mmmmm,” he sighed to himself, “but we have to get through tonight first.” He carefully turned down the bed, got out the cooling cream he would rub on her, and lit candles throughout the room. He set up some quiet soothing music. Her favorite DVD was ready to start when he carried her in the room. Then he sighed again and headed downstairs. He hated to punish her, and had never had to do it twice in a row. It hurt him so much, but he knew she needed, wanted, and craved the lifestyle they had. It kept her balanced and calm. He would do anything for her, and this was no exception. Squaring his shoulders, prepared to be strong again, he spoke to her.

“Ok honey, come here.”

She did as she was asked and once again, stood before him, feeling small and embarrassed.

“Take off that shirt please and hand it to me.” She complied quickly and he realized how sore she must still be to be this compliant. He’d have to take it easy, yet still make his point.

“Do you know why you’re here young lady?”

“Yes sir. I lost my temper and I took all my frustration out on my best employee.”

“I was proud that you made a very good apology to him… after a little persuasion. I was afraid I was going to need to spank you at work, or worse, in front of him. You wouldn’t make me do that would you?”

“No Sir!”

“Good. Because I have half a mind to do it in front of who ever you do this to the next time.

“Oh please sir. Don’t do that. I promise I’ll try my best. Honest”

“Hmmm. Ok, maybe I’ll give you one more punishment at home if it happens again, but I’d suggest you do your best to avoid it. It will be much worse than you’ll endure tonight I assure you.” He saw her sigh in relief. He smiled to himself realizing that his point had been made. He wouldn’t hesitate to spank her in front of someone if necessary, but he didn’t want to do that and embarrass any of her employees. He knew somehow that he would never actually do it, but it didn’t hurt to have her think it was a possibility.

“Did you also think about what you want your reputation to be in the office?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you think that what you want it to be and what it is now are one in the same?”

“No sir.”

“Do you have a plan to correct it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. I am glad to hear it. I have decided how I’m going to punish you tonight. I’m afraid you won’t like it because you won’t be up against me. I want you to come over here and lay over the arm of the couch.”

“Yes Sir.” She said as she lay over the arm of the couch. He pushed her torso down making her back arch.

“Please take your shirt in your hands and put them in front of your head. I expect you to hold on to that shirt, and not let it go. If a hand comes back, I will add 10 lashes, and will tie your hands in front of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir” she said.

“Ok. Now, you will spread your legs slightly, so that only your toes are touching the floor. You will not move or kick. You will submit to these, and thank me afterwards. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.” She said. Lori was scared. He had never asked her to hold still and keep a position like this. He had always helped her, restrained her in some way. She was afraid she couldn’t do it.
“Please sir. Please help me keep in position. I need help.”

“No, Lori, you have done this to your self. You are in charge at work, and that comes with responsibility. You now need to be in charge of your body. It is your responsibility. "

“Yes sir.” She sighed. She resolved to do her absolute best, knowing that arguing from this position would not help her at all.

Kent slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops. He could see her shiver. He knew it would have this affect on her, though he used it rarely. He dragged it gently over her butt, letting it drape over her very exposed most private areas. He could hear her inhale.

“Lori, you know the safe word. I am going to only give you 20 lashes this time because you have just endured quite a punishment spanking. If I feel your butt can take no more, I will move to your thighs. You may cry, but I want no begging. I expect you to hold position and thank me for each lash. I expect you to think about how you lashed out at an innocent employee, and how now the belt is lashing out at you.”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes sir.”

“Then ask please,” he said, quietly.

This was new. She had to ask for it? She panicked, and paused, trying to form the proper words in her mind. He waited patiently with the belt doubled over and casually hanging at his side. He knew this would be especially hard for her.

“Sir? May I please have my punishment?” he waited. She realized he wanted more and frantically tried to figure out what more to say. “May I please have twenty lashes with your belt? I will hold position and thank you for each one. I know I deserve this.” Apparently, this was what he was waiting for because before she knew it she heard the swish of the belt through the air and the first stroke landed. She cringed at the pain, but somehow held position.

“Thank you, sir,” she managed to muster. As soon as that escaped her lips she heard the next swish and the pain was blinding.

“aaaahh… “ she screamed, but she managed to hold position. She would never make it through she thought. “Thank you sir,” she cried.

Swish came the next one. As if he had read her mind, this one was a little less intense. “Thank you sir,” she cried, wanting to show him she may be able to make it at this intensity.

Swish. “AHHHH…” It burned so badly. She couldn’t think. She was loosing control, her body was fighting submission, but her mind was determined to submit to it and not move. After a longer pause she managed… “Thank you sir.”

Not waiting another second, Kent let the next one fly. Her reaction was the same. He knew he had the right intensity. It was almost more than she could bear, but yet, she was holding position. He knew her mind was fighting her body hard to keep position. She managed to make it through the next 11 strokes. Then, sobbing, she started to beg.

“Kent please sir, I can’t,“ he cut her off.

“No, Lori, You can make it, don’t blow it. Let yourself go. You can do it. You are smart, you are strong, let go.” He pushed her.

She took a deep breath. “God this was so hard” she thought. “Worse than anything she had ever done. How could she control herself and take it? Tears flowing, she resolved herself once more, grasped the shirt harder, and tried to let go. She had to let go of the guilt, let go of the control. I can do it, She thought through her tears. She felt herself relax. Kent saw it too. “Thank you, sir.”
Kent needed to know she was truly ready for the last five. That she had truly submitted. “Are you ready for the last five? They won’t be any easier. Can you ask for them?”

“Yes sir,” she said immediately and slightly stronger. He sighed in relief. This was what he needed to hear. “Please give them to me. I am ready for my last five. I can make it, Sir,” she said with determination.

He gave her the last five. She screamed after each one, but remained relaxed. She choked through saying thank you sir, and there were long pauses, but she made it. He pulled her into his arms immediately and hugged her tightly. He was so proud. She was too. She didn’t know she could make herself submit. He carried her up to bed, leaving the shirt behind. He flipped on the quiet music, and carried her to the bed. He gently put her on her side and tucked her in. He stripped off his clothes, and snuggled in behind her.

“Kent, I’m really sorry.”

“Shhh… it’s over, I forgave you long ago, not another word now. Just relax, and I’ll help to quell the fire on your butt. Just relax, and we’ll go to sleep. I have quite the morning planned for you”
Lori sighed. “God I love you. Thank you” she whispered. Gently rubbing her behind with cool lotion he whispered how proud he was, how sure he was he wouldn’t have to do this again, and how much he cherished and loved her. Soon they drifted off to sleep together, connected now more than ever.


I hope you enjoyed Caryagal's story. I really hope you're writing one of your own. If you are please share it with us by sending it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Monday, July 08, 2019

The best way

I love writing. I love it when a book flows. I love sitting and listening to dialogue between my characters and then capturing it on my screen. What does not come as natural, is writing sex scenes. I think I manage it better than it used to, but it’s still not exactly easy. 

There are two different ways I try to write a good scene. I’ve done it both ways, either works, but to tell the truth, one way works a little better than the other. See which seems easier to you.

First option 

Plan A

·      Wait until you have privacy to write.

·      Turn off the TV

·      Fix your coffee.

·      Settle in your writing room.

·      Let your mind drift to fantasy mode

·      Close your eyes and visualize what is happening to your characters.

·      Let the words flow.

Second option

Plan B

·      Have a full house – husband, daughter, sister, your cat, grand cat, grand dog.

·      Have TV on constantly.

·      Have someone come visit you in your writing room approximately every ten to fifteen minutes or less. They may want to talk about teaching strategies, politics, dog training, what to have for dinner, what the neighbors are doing or someone needs me to find something.

·      Have cats squabble over the prime spot to sleep.

·      When you get everyone settled down and out of you writing room, find the grand dog a golf ball or something equally as noisy to drop repeatedly on your wood floor.

·      Give up and play Candy Crush.

In your mind, which might more conducive for writing a good sex scene? Of course, I don’t always have the choice. So I have to learn to work through either.