LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Karen
Kimberley Kennedy, receptionist for the unique Clarkstown establishment, the Spank Shop, glared at the Excel spreadsheet on her computer monitor and frowned.

How could this have happened? Somehow two people had been booked for exactly the same time on the same day. The stunningly attractive, blonde, adolescent receptionist prided herself on her bookwork and this was very unlike her.

If she could not work this out and reschedule someone, then the two clients who had been inadvertently booked at the same time would not be only ones getting their bottoms warmed by the shop's elegant and competent proprietress, Andrea Mahoney.

A soft sob came from one of the corners of the room and Kimberley looked up. An eighteen-year-old girl with short brown hair, wearing a yellow apron that was open in the back, stood in the corner, hands on head, sporting the unmistakable evidence of a sound spanking on her plump bottom. "It won't be long, Pammy," Kimberley told the girl kindly, "and Penny and Paul will soon be joining you in the corners."

The girl in the corner was one of the Harper triplets. Unfortunately for Pam, Andrea had chosen to spank her first. Sister Penelope was over Andrea's knee as they spoke, having her own situpon spanked to a scorching lobster red by the experienced disciplinarian. The third triplet, Paul, was in a different room being attended to by Gabrielle Kennedy, Kimberley's mother.

The Clarkstown matron was a part time employee and Kimberley would be willing to bet that the young man was probably wishing he had never met Aunty Gabrielle, as she was now spanking fire into every part of his bottom using a stout rectangular oak hairbrush, which had in fact been supplied by the children's mother.

If Kimberley was quiet and listened hard she could hear both of them being chastised. There was the crack of leather meeting tender buttock flesh from Andrea's parlour and Kimberley winced as Penny wailed in reply. Andrea was using the leather sole of a broad, supple bedroom slipper to punish the girl's derriere and Kimberley knew from painful experience just how much that stung.

From the other room came the sound of a flat, heavy hairbrush striking an unprotected male backside and answering howls from Paul. Kimberley gave a low whistle, her mother was really roasting Paul. Plenty of trips over that same maternal lap had taught Kimberley a healthy respect for the strength of her mother's arm and her thoroughness when she had a brush in hand. With effort, Kimberley shut her ears to the noises emanating from the rooms and the accompanying mental images of glowing red bottoms writhing as slipper and hairbrush heated them to furnace-like temperatures.

"How could you have been so stupid, Kimberley Susan?" the girl asked herself, once again examining her spreadsheet. She had not even made the bookings on a day when her mother was working - if she had there would not be a problem.