LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Where did this story begin?

Was it the day that Sylvia Burns decided that she would never marry unless it was for money? Was it before that, when Gerald Peters made his first million? Or is this a story that is as old as time, where a young woman of a certain outlook, shall we say, seeks out an older wealthier man? Who can say for sure? Who even cares? Sylvia Burns certainly didn't. Not after she had become Sylvia Peters. Not at first anyway.

In any case, Gerald didn't have too much to do with his wife and that was the way Sylvia liked it. Although to put this into some kind of perspective: Gerald had three houses, a castle, seven cars, a private plane, two mistresses and one trophy wife, namely Sylvia.

Sylvia was not your typical trophy wife. For one thing, although she was pretty, she wasn't what anyone would call a stunner. In Sylvia's own view she wasn't that well-endowed on the bust front either and her hair a dark brown-black was a far cry from the regulation blonde that such women usually sported. But she had good taste and money to indulge it. In fact she had just about everything she could want, when she wanted it.

The only trouble was Sylvia was bored. She had been on three long holidays that year already and when she had asked for her allowance to be doubled, Gerald had merely signed the cheque without a word.

"I only asked, because I wanted an argument," she said forlornly to her maid.

Tatiana shrugged; she had other things on her mind.

"Are you in trouble with Lady Granger again?" Sylvia asked in a lacklustre voice when she saw Tatiana wasn't listening.

Lady Granger was what the household jokingly called Mary Granger the housekeeper behind her back. It was on account of this woman that Sylvia had long since given up on the illusion that she had any say in running the house. A situation made perfectly clear to her on her very first day when she had asked for the rust-red curtains at the front of the house to be changed for blue ones.

"Blue ones," Granger had said slowly as if addressing a child. "I hardly think so."

And that had been an end to the matter.

The other peculiarity concerning Mary Granger and how she ran the house was her predilection for corporal punishment. The entire female staff lived in acceptance, if not fear, of the woman, who viewed their bottoms as a casual target for her wrath.

Sylvia, who thought she had seen it all, was so perturbed to be living in what to her lights could only be described as a BDSM nut house, that a month before the wedding she had complained to Gerald.

"Oh, I don't concern myself with such things as much as I once did, but it is rather fun don't you think?" he had told her dismissively.