LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

There had been rumours, years ago, but they were promptly dismissed by the police. Nevertheless, the gossip had not been entirely eradicated, for such things would always continue to titillate and excite, and generate a delicious frisson of fear during whispered conversations. And now there was evidence to suggest that the secret spanking society was active again.

When a new report appeared on the desk of Detective Constable Geena MacGuire suggesting that the activities had recommenced, she was determined to get to the bottom of things. If she could pull it off, she could maybe achieve that long awaited promotion. Detective Sergeant Geena MacGuire. It certainly had a ring of authority to it. Geena smiled to herself, imagining the kudos, not forgetting the big hike in salary a promotion would generate. But there were others in the Division with seniority. Geena frowned at the thought. Fiercely competitive, she decided she would do whatever it took to acquire the title of DS.

Picking up the file, she put it in her briefcase. It wouldn't hurt to do a bit of extra work at home, given she had a weeks leave to use up. The office door opened and Inspector Morgan strode in - all 6ft 5 of him.

"Ready for off, Geena?"

"Yes sir. I'm leaving in a couple of minutes."

"Going anywhere nice?"

"Not really. Maybe I'll take a couple of days out, but the rest of the time I need to crack on with decorating my house." Geena blinked. Inspector Morgan was not normally so chatty. Still, it was Friday, and she surmised he must be looking forward to the weekend. "I might even get round to doing something with the garden. It's a real mess."

"Oh well. Don't overdo it. We don't want you taking time off with a bad back, now do we?" smiled Inspector Morgan.

"No sir."

"Right. Enjoy your week off. Cheerio."

"Thank you Sir, I plan to do exactly that."

---oOo---
After two full days stripping wallpaper and applying another coat of paint to doors and windows, Geena had had enough. Even the prospect of bulldozing her way through the tangle of brambles and overgrown shrubs that was her garden, seemed a more pleasant prospect than decorating. However, once she got herself outside and assessed the amount of work needed to get things ship-shape, her heart sank.

Picking her way disconsolately back over the cracked stone path, she was distracted by the emergence of a group of tall flowers at the back of the border. Recognising them as Hollyhocks, she smiled in anticipation of the spectacular blooms that would appear in a few weeks time. The previous owner had staked the tall plants in the ground, using rigid garden canes and green twine. At the sight of the canes, Geena was reminded of the file in her briefcase. Sod the gardening, she thought, as she returned to the house. Pulling the file from her briefcase, she began to read.