Tuesday, 25 October 2016

Tuesday, October 25, 2016 -

The Spanking Hotel

a spanking fiction anthology
by Angela Stone
Published: Sep 25, 2016
Words: 73,423
Category: general
Orientation: M/F
Click HERE for further details and purchase options.
1. The Spanking Hotel

"Come on," said Finn brandishing the wooden-backed hairbrush that resided on his bedside table, "lets have some fun!" He looked hopefully across at his wife, Bella, who was laid in bed next to him.

"Noooooo," Bella whined in response. "It's too damn cold!" She snuggled herself deeper down into the duvet, seeking more warmth.

Finn sighed. He knew she was right, especially when his sigh turned the air in front of him cloudy, but he loved to play with his wife and knew how much she enjoyed his attentions too.

They both loved the big old rambling farmhouse that they had owned and lived in for the last five years. It was high up on the Yorkshire moors, the views were stunning, the neighbours were over a mile away and the peace and quiet was priceless. The only real problem was heating the place. The heating system was old and rickety, hardly worked and drank oil as though it were on commission from the government. If it was feeling generous the system would deign to heat some water to somewhere between tepid and warm but if not the water would run as stubbornly cold as it was when it was first dragged up from the well over the hill.

Sensing her loved one's disappointment Bella turned to look at Finn. "Well, you could always light us a nice fire tomorrow afternoon when you get home from work!"

This cheered Finn up no end so he snuggled up close to Bella and they both fell asleep.


Bella giggled with delight as she twirled round to enable Finn to remove her clothes. The room was toasty warm, the fire was glowing brightly and their two Ragdoll cats, Bill and Ben, were sprawled on top of the piano snoring gently.

Now quite naked, Bella stood near the fire, enjoying the warmth on her skin. Finn watched her with admiration. Bella was twenty-five, six years younger than he, and athletically built with strong limbs and a toned tummy. Her bottom was Finn's favourite part of her - well, after her lovely face with the sparkling green eyes and the auburn hair that framed her features - it was beautifully sculpted, shapely and toned but with a wobble that delighted Finn.

Finn sat in the middle of their four-seater sofa and beckoned his wife over to him. Bella sashayed playfully over and with no embarrassment at all threw herself over Finn's lap. She landed with her feet up on the sofa at one end, her head resting on a cushion at the other and her bottom at the highest point, nicely positioned across Finn's knees.

Finn smiled at her enthusiasm, lifting his right knee a little higher to perfect her position and then raising his hand he started to smack her bottom, one cheek then the other, lightly to start with, gradually building up the sting.

Sunday, 23 October 2016

Sunday, October 23, 2016 -

A Judicial Caning for Mother & Daughter

and other spanking stories
by Joy Peters
Published: Sep 25, 2016
Words: 25,116
Category: judicial
Orientation: M/F
Click HERE for further details and purchase options.
A Judicial Caning for Mother and Daughter

The mind can recount historical events in great detail, even after many years. This account is so vivid it could have been yesterday.

I was celebrating my upcoming big '40' birthday accompanied by my daughter who was having a gap year before starting university. On an extended holiday, we had planned a short stopover on one of the smaller Emirate States to top up our suntan before moving on to the Maldives, where my husband was to join us for a blissful month of self indulgence.

I so remember the moment a sniffer dog took an interest in the hand luggage being carried by my daughter when we disembarked from the aircraft at the small airport. We were escorted to a room where a search of the bag revealed a small quantity of cannabis. I knew my daughter didn't do drugs. It was probably a combination of Western arrogance and the impetuosity of youth, but we both ended up being charged with offences. Of course we totally denied any wrongdoing and could only presume that the illicit drugs had been planted. Our passports were confiscated and we were bailed pending court appearances. We consulted a local lawyer who agreed to act for us. It was two weeks before the formal court hearing. We were surprised at the formality and efficiency of the proceedings, which although conducted in Arabic, provided a simultaneous English translation via headphones. A jury of eight local residents made up of six men and two women were to decide whether or not to believe our rebuttal of the charges.

At the conclusion of prosecution and defence arguments, the judge summarised the case to the jury and they were sent out to deliberate. In fairness the proceedings appeared to be conducted with absolute integrity and we could not fault anything. We were confident that we would soon be on our way to the Maldives, albeit ten days later than planned.

The jury returned and confirmed to the court that they had reached verdicts on the two charges we each faced. We were then asked to stand in the dock.

The clerk of the court asked the appointed chairman of the jury how they found against me, Amanda Binchy, to the charge of narcotic possession.

"Guilty," came the verdict. And to the charge of perverting the course of justice I was also found guilty.

When asked about the similar charges against my daughter, Scarlet Binchy, the jury spokesman revealed she was also found to be guilty.

The judge then addressed us. "Amanda and Scarlet Binchy, you have both been found guilty of serious charges. I will hear pleas of mitigation from you or your legal advisor before passing sentence in one week's time. However I must advise you that a custodial sentence is likely, so I am remanding you both into custody pending sentence. Take them down."

With this we were taken to separate holding cells within the court building.

Saturday, 22 October 2016

Saturday, October 22, 2016 -

Prudence and the Woodshed

by Lash Laramie
Published: Sep 24, 2016
Words: 17,993
Category: western, romance, historical
Orientation: M/F
Click HERE for further details and purchase options.
Prudence Wilson poked her head out of the open window of the Pullman car and looked down the length of the track. The conductor had finally announced her destination and she could now see the station approaching. Her heart was racing with excitement. It had been a long journey to this prairie town in the Oklahoma Territory. She had come all the way from Brisbane, in Queensland, Australia ... half way around the world!

Shielding her eyes, she tried to pick out her uncle and his family on the approaching platform. Her efforts were frustrated by a firm male hand which gripped her by the shoulder and pulled her back into her seat.

"I believe your father would be quite perturbed with me if I returned you to him with a telegraph pole embedded in your forehead, Prudence," the man said.

"We're almost there, Mr. Turner. Isn't it incredible?" she exclaimed, ignoring the scolding. "I can't believe we've traveled halfway around the globe."

Cyrus Turner removed his wire-framed spectacles and began wiping the lenses with a large white handkerchief. He was a business partner and close personal friend of her father, William Wilson. He had business to attend to in New York City and had agreed to chaperone Prudence to her destination before continuing on his way to New York.

"It's 1890, Prudence," he said. "The world gets to be a smaller place every year. Soon it will be a new century. Who knows what wonders it might hold?"

Prudence felt her pulse quicken with each turn of the locomotive's drive wheels. She thought she must be the luckiest girl alive to be having such an incredible adventure.

It was the beginning of her eighteenth summer and she had blossomed into a very attractive, young woman. She was tall as girls went, nearly five-foot-seven the last time her father had made the pencil mark on her bedroom door and checked it with a measuring tape. Blessed from birth with her mother's thick chestnut brown hair and her father's blue eyes, she had more recently developed the curvaceous figure of a young woman. It was a great relief to her after spending her adolescence as a thin, gangly, uncommonly tall girl.

She had secretly taken great pleasure in the appreciative glances she had noticed from several young men during her long journey. Of course, Mr. Turner had glowered at them and they had all hastily retreated.

The whole wondrous odyssey had come about as a sort of graduation present from her parents. She had long begged them for the chance to go visit her American relations. Her father had finally agreed to finance the venture upon satisfactory completion of her schooling.

Her Uncle John was her father's younger brother. Both men had been born in England but had gone abroad to seek their fortunes, her own father to Australia and his brother John to the ever expanding America. She looked forward to meeting them finally.

Friday, 21 October 2016

Friday, October 21, 2016 -

Spanked by Her Brother - Book 3

by Breanna Carter
Published: Sep 23, 2016
Words: 24,929
Category: teen
Orientation: M/F
Click HERE for further details and purchase options.
State Championships

State championships... ah what a joy. Anastasia and I were so anxious to get on the field and feel that rush again; it was hard to wait a whole month! We trained hard the whole month, scoring as many goals as we could, defending as many goals as we could, running until we collapsed. It was great. A month is no time when you're training, but a month lasts forever when you're excited about something. You'd think that they would cancel each other out, but they didn't. So we worked hard and trained and got giddy about the competition. The cool thing was that the coach was no longer mad at me for fighting. She just made me promise that I would not try any of that stuff at the state championships or I'd be kicked off the team for good. I told her not to worry, I'd learned my lesson.

When the week of the championships came around, we had so much adrenaline that we could run twice as long without collapsing and we could do tons more exercises. Our coach made sure that we ate fruit for breakfast every morning by calling us, and if we said that we didn't have any, she'd bring an apple up to school for us to eat. It was pretty cool, being on a team like this, especially with all of the praise we got.

An even cooler thing was that the boys' soccer team was going to Baton Rouge with us. They were traveling in a separate bus, but we were all going to be in the same hotel so we could all go swimming after we won the championships. We had another scrimmage that Wednesday for the school to see, and obviously the boys had stepped it up a bit because we tied this time. I guess that couldn't be a bad thing, as we were both extremely good teams, and the boys were supposed to be stronger and faster than us, so at least they would win the championship.

That Thursday, we went through half of the school day, having our pep rally during 4th and 5th period, then leaving right afterwards with the gym cheering and clapping us on. We had people make a little tunnel for us and as each person went through everyone slapped them on the back, wishing them luck at the game. We came out of there really feeling like the toughest shit in the world, and knowing that if we didn't win the state championships, the people who did were good enough to be professionals.

We had a five hour long bus ride ahead of us. I'd been to Baton Rouge only once before on a school trip for this gifted class I was in. Yeah, when I was in fifth grade I was gifted. Lucky me. Of course, a five hour long bus ride can't be that boring when you're sitting in the back by the window with your best friends surrounding you.

Tuesday, 18 October 2016

Tuesday, October 18, 2016 -

My Tutor

a schoolboy's rite of passage into spanking and adulthood
by Steve Timmons
Published: Sep 18, 2016
Words: 27,063
Category: femdom, school
Orientation: F/M
Click HERE for further details and purchase options.
1. How it Began

"Hey Hon," I called from the kitchen table where I was reading the morning paper as I finished my breakfast, "look who's just been named 'Teacher of the Year'."

My wife paused a moment from packing our son's lunch to peer over my shoulder at the paper. Spotting the story, she quickly zeroed in on the name.

"Casey Corrigan!"

"My high school tutor," I added.

"And big time school boy crush!" she teased.

"True," I admitted, "but that was before I met you, my love."

Together, we read the glowing description of the many accomplishments that had garnered Casey the award. It had been years since either one of us had seen her, but it seemed that Casey had made quite a career for herself as an educator. No surprise there, I thought to myself. She already had all the makings when she first tutored me fifteen years ago.

As my wife hustled our son out to the car to drop him off at his school on her way to her own job as a high school teacher, I poured another cup of coffee and sat down to reread the article. As I did so, my mind wandered back over the years...


I grew up in a college town, the second child of parents who were psychologists and tenured professors at the university. Not only were Mom and Dad senior professors, they were also published authors (multiple times); they were involved in numerous research projects, and very busy on the guest lecturer circuit. All of these activities really kept them on the go, often for weeks at a time. Consequently, I spent much of my pre-school years in the university day care program and my early grade school years in the after-school program.

Honesty compels me to admit that I was an indifferent student throughout grade school. By the time I entered my freshman year in high school, I had been officially labeled as an 'underachiever' which must have been a real disappointment to my brilliant parents.

My sister Mary Ann, four years older than me and a senior, was just the opposite. She excelled at everything all through school. When I was in eighth grade, my parents got the idea that they would pay Mary Ann to be my tutor. That was a total bust! The dynamic was all wrong. I just couldn't stand the idea of being subjected to my bossy sister's authority and, as often happens with people who learn things easily themselves, she had very little patience when I couldn't or wouldn't understand what she was trying to teach me. We gave the whole thing up after a couple of frustrating months.

Very early in my freshman year, my parents were talking about me with one of the Deans at a faculty affair. The Dean mentioned that he and his wife had employed a tutor to help prepare their own son for the rigorous entrance exam required for admission to the University Prep School.