LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Chapter 1 - Mercy Night
"Mercy night?" Natalie stammered, utterly astonished. "But I'm an actress, not a delinquent. I was only supposed to be here for a few days, to research my role."

True. Natalie, a famous American actress secretly fascinated with corporal punishment, had voluntarily enrolled herself in the Goodwood reformatory. "Research," she claimed, and as a method actress Natalie would make any sacrifice required to ensure an authentic performance.

The Headmaster smiled. He knew the beautiful young star was quite disconcerted, but she was so adorable in her reformatory school uniform that it was quite impossible to take her pouting petulance seriously.

"You're going to be here a bit longer than that, I'm afraid," the Headmaster said, feigning regret. "The next Mercy Night isn't until the end of the summer. But that will give you ample time to prepare for your role, and prepare your formal written petition, begging for the Governor's forgiveness."

"Forgiveness for what? I haven't done anything wrong! I'm not like ... the other girls," Natalie said, confused.

"Young lady, I certainly hope you're not attempting to use your celebrity to court special treatment."

"No, sir, not at all. What I meant was, I'm, not a criminal. I haven't done anything wrong."

"True, and I am quite sure that you have noticed that unlike the other students here, you have not yet received the birch, or the cane. This is due to the fact that you have not been formally sentenced to receive such in a court of law. However, as a student you are in the Governor's care. They are charged under the law with reforming you and correcting your moral deficiencies. They cannot release you until they are certain that job is complete."

Natalie looked at him, thunderstruck. "But I was promised that my release would be a matter of routine."

"Yes, precisely. Your release will be processed along with all the other girls, according to the normal routine. Your case will be considered irrespective of your celebrity, with neither prejudice nor undue haste. Thus you will stand in the dock on Mercy Night, and will be judged according to our normal procedures, just like any other girl. You may go now, Natalie," the Headmaster said, shuffling his papers, "and begin working on your Mercy Night petition."

Natalie still had much to say, but even though she had only been in the reformatory for a few days she knew the conversation was over. The Headmaster ignored her and moved onto his paperwork, pausing only to enjoy the sight of Natalie's shapely fanny retreating across the office as she exited his study.

As she walked down the hall, Natalie was awash with a jumble of emotions: surprise, confusion, fear, and (although she hated to admit it) an almost indescribable excitement.

Mercy Night? Could this really be happening? It was too good to be true!

Prologue
"She's the one." Tarak adjusted the zoom on his console, magnifying the image. He stared intently at the screen, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth as he beheld her: Selina. Mine. She will be mine. I know it. Certainty bloomed like a bright flower.

The young Comms officer by Tarak's side looked on with interest and approval. "How do you know, Sir?"

Tarak exhaled, his eyes glimmering as he drank her in: petite, dark brown hair swinging in a jaunty pony tail as she walked, big brown eyes blinking in the bright afternoon sunlight, her sweet lips smiling for no apparent reason other than she was happy. Though small in stature, she had curves in all the right places, pert little breasts, trim waist, and a nicely rounded bottom topped a pair of shapely legs, her feet encased in pale pink sneakers, pink laces tied in a floppy bow. She was undeniably pretty, simultaneously managing to look both cute and sexy, alluring and innocent. She was enchanting, exquisite. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Officer Kasa."

An experienced veteran of intergalactic travel, he had never before encountered any female who had evoked in him such an immediate and powerful attraction. From that moment on, his mission to apprehend the renegade Flynn became more than a routine assignment, it became a personal quest, because through Flynn, he could reach Selina.

As The Anastrasis orbited the earth's atmosphere, Tarak stood on the fight deck, deep in thought. After years of waiting, he had finally found 'the one', and relished the prospect of claiming her as his own. "Selina," he whispered, testing her name on his lips. "I am coming. Be ready to embrace your destiny, little one."


Chapter 1 - Thirteen Jericho Place
It was just an ordinary looking house, a modest three-storey end terrace in a block of six, solidly built and unpretentious. Like all the other houses in the row, number 13 Jericho Place had bright white paintwork and a black front door with a brass door knocker. The afternoon sunshine cast a warm homely glow on the row of red brick dwellings, all seemingly identical from the outside.

Selina lived at number 12, bang opposite number 13. The houses on this side of the road were much older and built of stone, blackened with age. The spacious attic bedroom at the top of the house was her domain. It was a fabulous old room, full of character, and it was a pleasure to snuggle down in bed listening to the splats of rain pattering on the window pane, and the twitter of birds nesting in the eaves. She loved its curious walls and cracked ceiling that sloped quirkily in different directions so that it seemed geometrically impossible they should come together in the right way to form a room, and she liked the way the crooked floorboards dipped unevenly by the door, and the creaking sound they made when anyone stepped on them.

Chapter One
Annie Dixon stepped from the kitchen to get a coke. The lunch crowd over, she thanked the Lord and hoped the rest of the afternoon would be slow. Meat loaf Tuesday's were always busy and she needed a break, her feet were killing her. As she walked to the dispenser she heard the jingle of the bell over the door signaling that another customer had entered. She looked up and quickly looked down.

---oOo---
She had met him years ago when she was just 18 and he was 22. She'd been visiting her sister in Dallas and supposedly out for a night of fun at a street festival instead of going to Pickin' Pete's Bar and Grill. Under age and with a false ID in the name Clovis Gentry, and false courage from the tequila, she had flirted and carried on with every man and boy at the club. She'd been about to get herself into real trouble when she'd stepped outside with someone interested in more than just flirting. He wasn't taking no for an answer and she'd been fighting him off like a tomcat when Jace McCall had come to her rescue. He had stepped between the two...

---oOo---
"I don't think the lady wants what you're offering."

"Who the hell are you and what business is it of yours?" came the surly reply.

"It doesn't matter whether it's my business. The lady isn't interested in what you're offering. Now go back to whatever rock you climbed out from and leave her alone."

The guy pulled back his arm and was about to deliver his fist into Jace's face when a well-placed kick from 'Clovis' ended the confrontation. The big jerk immediately had something else to do with his hands. Doubled over and grabbing his precious jewels, he swore at them as Jace led her away.

Jace knew that she'd had one too many tequilas because he'd spotted her the minute she walked into the club. She was a looker, way too big for her britches, who thought she was God's gift to men. Someone needed to take her in hand before she got into big trouble. He wasn't looking forward to babysitting anyone and that's what she needed so he'd stayed away, but when he'd seen her leaving with that idiot, he knew that he had to do something. So here he was, arguing with her about how she was going to get home.

"Do you have someone to drive you home?" he asked.

"I can drive myself."

"I don't think so; you're far too drunk to get behind the wheel."

Annie was not about to let somebody tell her what to do, let alone another macho cowboy. She started digging into her purse for her keys. He grabbed for her keys, spilling the contents of her purse onto the ground.

Crossing the Line
As a passenger I was invited to a special "Crossing the Line" ceremony at 16:00. I had wanted a holiday with a difference, and this opportunity to take a cruise up the coast of Norway to the Arctic was it. This event was to celebrate crossing the Arctic Circle. For those taking part there would be a certificate. "But not for those of you who are too afraid" warned the Entertainments Officer. "King Neptune is very fussy about that."

I was, as usual, alone. I was only thirty-two and not at all unattractive, but incredibly shy. There had never been a real boyfriend; I was still a virgin, and worse in some ways, I had never been spanked. The first two made me feel freakish enough, but the third was my dark secret and growing obsession. I was intrigued by spanking and read every article and story I could find on the Internet. I also collected pictures from all the free sites, but did nothing that could give away my identity. I told myself that it was my job as a teacher that created this caution, but deep down I was afraid of meeting someone who would spank me, and that I would make a complete fool of myself. This cruise, although good in many ways, had made me feel more isolated and odd than ever.

We made our way in pairs and groups toward the dining room where the ceremony was to be held. I was on my own, of course, smiling and nodding at the groups, but never joining in. I hated the idea of having to step forward in front of everyone and perform some silly stunt. I thought that they would probably stick ice down our backs, but to my astonishment ice down the back was only a small part of it, and the first part had my heart hammering with excitement and indecision.

We were told how the ceremony would work. A special 'line' had been set up with three painted icebergs: the two gaps in between were the 'line' through which we must pass on our way to King Neptune. I was right - when we knelt before Neptune, ice would indeed be put down the back of shirt or blouse, but first we had to pass between the 'icebergs'. Men and women were separated; both sexes could chose the 'chicken gap' draped with wet seaweed but no more. There would be lots of boos and hisses for that choice. The other gap was a 'test of loyalty' to King Neptune. For men it was bobbing for apples in ice-filled water, for women (this really set my heart racing) it was to get spanked. A loyal subject would bend over and get spanked with a small replica boat paddle: one spank for loyalty, two spanks for extra loyalty, and three for those that King Neptune would really love.

I have never been so torn in all my life.

Chapter 1
Jennifer Rawlings tried to concentrate on the newspaper as she paced the floor in the living room, but her efforts in that regard were in vain. She wanted to distract herself from the pesky emotions and thoughts that had seemed to invade every minute of her day.

As soon as she had gotten home from a busy Wednesday at the university, she had been disappointed upon arriving at the house and finding that she was not experiencing the sense of serenity she would typically feel at the prospect of having several days off - not when her consciousness was being occupied by unwelcome old business.

Even more distracting was the ever-present fluttering and quivering throughout the entire middle third of her body as she walked the floor aimlessly, nervously running her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair. Those sensations coordinated well with the little tingling twinges of nerve endings across the surfaces of her bottom cheeks. Jennifer had anticipation down to a science.

As she put the newspaper down on a coffee table and walked to the bay window to gaze upon the scenic front lawn, she finally realized that when she had walked to the bedroom to change out of her pantsuit, she had absentmindedly taken one of her husband's pro football jerseys from a drawer and slipped it on without even bothering to put on jeans or shorts. She finally realized how she was dressed, and sighed and laughed to herself; she very well knew what was coming. She had obviously, albeit unwittingly, dressed for her own comfort and her husband's convenience.

She placed her hands on her hips, closed her eyes and leaned her head back and took a deep breath. The nicotine cravings had nearly overwhelmed her from mid morning through the rest of the day. She felt jittery, edgy and short tempered all day long. It was all that she could do to be cordial to her students and fellow faculty members, and when one of the professors stopped her in the hallway to ask her a question, the aroma of cigarette smoke he emanated nearly drove her to the brink.

She heard a low rumbling sound and she knew that Michael was home. She took a deep breath and strolled to the kitchen door that opened into the garage. As soon as he walked through, she rushed to him and put her arms around him and they embraced and kissed deeply. "Could my behind borrow that strong, hard right hand of yours for a few minutes?"

His eyes arched in surprise. "It's been several months since you've been spanked. Getting the cigarette urges because you are nervous about your speech tomorrow night?"

She leaned her head against his chest. "It's not the speech. It's the subject matter. I long ago got over my fears of speaking in public when it comes to things like research. But having to retell my own story makes me become a little unraveled.

Chapter 1 - An Arizona Night
Gerhard knew when a woman was playing with him and he suspected Leticia was now using her charms to get her way ... but he wondered what it truly was that she wanted. Later he would wonder what had come over him, but he took Leticia in his arms and said, "If we are to travel together, you need to know what a proper kiss is." His strong arms enveloping the young woman, he pulled her tight and placed his lips on hers. He kissed her passionately and was pleased, though somewhat surprised, at the passion she returned in her kiss. They embraced like that for a long moment, before awkwardly breaking hold. Each suddenly felt like a shy teenager.

But in the late 19th Century, even in the Wild West of Territorial Arizona, a woman simply did not let a man, no matter how attractive he was, kiss her. And when that young woman has been raised with a belief that she is of a social status much higher than others, this was particularly true. Still a bit stunned by the kiss and her embarrassingly passionate response, the young Mexican woman reached up and slapped the big blonde German across the face with a force that stunned him.

"Oh? You tease me and lead me on and I get slapped for a little kiss?" Gerhard was partly intrigued by the fire Leticia showed and partly angry at her physically confusing reactions. She had kissed him back and then slapped him for it. They were alone in the night having taken a short walk on the dusty road leading out of Tortilla Flats. The air was warm and there was an inviting breeze that was welcome after a full day of blazing sun and heat.

Heat? That's just what this teasing wench deserves, he thought. The big man picked up the woman and, despite her punching and kicking, carried her to a stump by the side of the road. There he put his left foot on the stump creating a nicely even surface with his left thigh over which he placed Leticia. Pinning her to his thigh she could not escape though she tried to, and all of her kicking and squirming only caused her pants to pull taut across her bottom. She was completely at his mercy as her entire body was suspended across his thigh.

"You wouldn't dare!" seethed the Mexican woman as she recognized the position she was in. Her bottom was well up and vulnerable. She was pinned in place; her only recourse was to talk her way out of what she was worried would be coming.

The reply she got was a pair of hard swats to her backside: one to each of her bottom cheeks. This made her struggle harder, but her struggling only earned her a half dozen more spanks. The swats made loud slapping noises that were crisp and obvious in the dark night air.

Chapter One - The Sunday Evening Meeting
"Alright you nasty little pledge bitches, get your asses lined up now!" That was the order given by Megan, the Zeta house president. She continued to speak as the newest pledge class of Zeta Omicron Pi quickly got in line. "So far you've had it pretty easy girls, but that shit's all about to change. Did you think you were going to just waltz in here and join the hottest fucking sorority on campus without breaking a fucking sweat? Well that's not gonna happen. No more pampering for you little babies. If you want to be in this house, you're going to have to prove it to us!"

The tall, strikingly beautiful redhead continued berating the young pledges as the other sisters stood by, watching in amusement at the nervous and scared looks on the faces of the uninitiated. There were four pledges altogether; that's all Zeta ever accepted. This was the elite house on campus, and only the best of the best were given a bid to pledge.

The pledges aligned in alphabetical order just as they had done for the past several weeks. There was Jenny, the petite, small-breasted Asian girl who barely stood five feet tall. Next to her was Samantha, the typical blonde-haired girl-next-door from any town, U.S.A. After Samantha was Jade, a pale-skinned redhead with full red lips and one of the tightest, shapeliest asses ever to walk through the doors of the Zeta house. And finally there was Brianna. With her long, brown hair and Victoria's Secret model body, she was definitely the most attractive of the four pledges, which was saying a lot.

"This is hell week, pledges, and this is where we find out how bad you really want to be a Zeta," the sorority president continued on in her pleasurably sadistic manner. "You think you've had it tough so far, well let me tell you little bitches something; you haven't seen shit yet!"

And she was right. Although the pledges had been put through some challenges so far, like cleaning the house, learning the history of the sorority as well as committing to memory the names, majors and hometowns of every current member, it was nothing compared to what lay ahead for them. These four young ladies were about to face a week filled with pain, humiliation and degradation. But to them it would all be worth it.

It would be worth it because of the prestige being a Zeta girl carried with it. Being a Zeta meant opening doors that would remain closed to others. If a young lady's ambition was to strive for greatness in business or politics, or to simply marry a man of the highest social standing, then Zeta was the house to join. Every year hundreds of would be hopefuls vied for a chance to pledge, but only four were ever asked to.

Matthew clapped Tyler Fox on the back then shook hands with his new foreman to seal the deal. "It's great to have you on board, son. You've proved your worth here at Whispering Winds, and you're the best man for the job."

"Thanks, Mr Bellamy-"

"No need to stand on ceremony. You can call me Matthew, and my good wife's name is Brenda."

"Sure." Tyler smiled at the older man. "Thanks for the promotion, Matthew. I'm real glad I can be of help to you."

"How about a shot of bourbon to celebrate?" Matthew strode over to the decanter on the desk in his study. "Strictly speaking, it's a little early in the day and my lady wife wouldn't approve - but as she ain't here..." He grinned and poured two generous measures of the dark amber liquid into two glasses. "Gone into Dubois to buy more clothes for our trip." He rolled his eyes. "That woman has two closets crammed full of clothes and still she wants more."

"That's women for ya I guess," said Tyler wryly. He accepted the proffered glass and raised it.

"To your new job, son." Matthew clinked his glass against Tyler's.

"Yeah. My new job." Tyler took a sip and smiled appreciatively. "This is good stuff."

"Sure is. Jefferson's Presidential elect 30 year-old bourbon. It comes out on special occasions." Matthew took another sip, savouring the taste.

"You mentioned a trip - you folks goin' on vacation?"

"We are, and that's what I want to talk to you about, Tyler ... take a seat. You already know what's expected of you in regards to running the ranch. Hell - you've been doin' most of the day-to-day stuff during the past six months, and I've complete confidence in leaving the place in your capable hands while Brenda and I take our first vacation in thirty years."

"Thirty years? You're way overdue."

"Yup. We're off to Kenya, Botswana and Namibia on a photographic safari, and we'll be gone for eight weeks. It'll be the trip of a lifetime. Think you can cope in our absence?" He grinned widely. "I'm darned sure you can or I wouldn't have handed over a small fortune to the travel company."

Tyler put down his drink. It was well known that both Matthew and Brenda Bellamy were mad keen on photography, and over the past few years had organised a series of workshops at the ranch - workshops which proved very popular given the scenic Fremont County, Wyoming location of Whispering Winds with its abundance of wildlife. "I'm honoured you have such confidence in me. And yeah, I'm equally confident that myself and the boys can keep the place running smoothly while you're away. Your trip sounds fantastic."

"It'll be amazing. Can't think why we didn't do it sooner ... well, I guess I can ... my daughter. Annie."

Caroline's Birthday
by Mike London
Caroline, Jill and Vanessa picked unhappily at their food. None of the three sixth form girls was looking forward to the rest of the evening. They had been told to report to Mrs Buckeridge's study at 8.00pm and they all knew, only too well, what was going to happen in the headmistress's study.

It had all started when Caroline had had the bright idea of smuggling their three boyfriends into the school for a celebration of her birthday. The other two girls had agreed, although Vanessa had been rather hesitant. King George's School was a co-educational public school but there were strict rules against girls in the boys' dormitories and vice versa. Only two weeks before, two boys had been caned by the deputy headmaster for visiting a girls' dormitory without permission. The girls concerned had been given lines and detentions. But Caroline and Jill had persuaded Vanessa to agree. They had assured her that there was practically no chance that they'd be caught, because their dormitory was in an isolated part of the school's grounds, and that even if they were, the fun they'd have would be worth a few lines. Caroline's only regret was that Sarah, the fourth girl who shared their dormitory, would not be able to be with them as she was still in the school's sanatorium, recovering from flu.

The boys had accordingly come, bringing generous supplies of alcohol with them. None of them were pupils at the school; they all lived in the small town nearby. They had come determined to have a good time and, although they did not want to get their girlfriends into trouble, they did not so clearly appreciate the need to be quiet. A passing teacher had heard the noise and entered the dormitory. He had made them pour away all the remaining lager and had then escorted all six of them to Mrs Buckeridge's study.

The headmistress had taken the names and addresses of the boys and had then sent them away, as she had no authority over them. With the girls, however, it was otherwise and she had lectured them severely. She had enumerated the number of their offences: breaching school security, eating after lights out, drinking alcohol, disrupting the school's peace at night time and entertaining boys in their dormitory without permission. Mrs Buckeridge had concluded by saying that she rarely used the cane, but that it was there to be used as a last resort and that she felt she had no alternative in the present circumstances. She told them to report to her study at eight the next evening.

All three girls were shocked at the prospect of being caned. They knew that, in theory, girls could be caned at King George's. In a way they were quite proud of it; it set their school apart from other schools.

Chapter One - New Beginnings and Meeting a Goddess
I met Marie in 1995.

Bill Clinton was in the White House and a computer animated film called Toy Story was ruling at the box office. That was the year that O.J. got away with murder and a couple of assholes blew up a federal building in Oklahoma City and bruised America's heart.

In May of that year I was a fresh college dropout, living in upstate Pennsylvania in a basement apartment that wasn't a whole lot more than a refrigerator, a single bed and a shower stall. Six months short of a degree in Architecture and having decided that higher education was not the right road for my life at the time, I had somehow managed to land a job that was at least somewhat related to my field of choice.

Five days a week, sometimes six if the job merited it, I worked as a grunt with a construction company installing drywall throughout the state. The work was hard enough, but the pay was also decent. Having landed a number of contracts with major real estate developers in the region, our crew was dedicated almost exclusively to projects that were new condo and apartment house constructions. Overtime was plentiful for the guys that wanted it, and for a kid with minimal expenses and not accustomed to having an abundance of spending money, life in the mid-nineties was a good deal.

Coming from a conservative rural Virginia upbringing where both my parents had married just after high school and raised seven kids on two minimum wage jobs, owning a partial college education and a job that allowed me to live the good life, was nearing a dream come true. Of course life is never perfect. There were student loans that needed to be paid. My apartment was part of an initiative designed to aid kids living away from home. I was OK for the time being, but once fall rolled around and they discovered my college career had come to an end, I would politely be asked to vacate the space. And then there was the fact that I had yet to inform my mom and dad that I had no intention of finishing my studies. That was the big one. That one was going to need to be addressed before September rolled around. But Labor Day was still three months away. For now, life was good.

We worked hard and we played just as hard. Construction workers, like a lot of guys in the trades industry, are no stranger to having a good time. A few beers or a pint of rye after work was an accepted part of the culture. As long as you punched in on time the next morning and carried your fair share of the workload, your fellow workers and your supervisors had no qualms with a man's drinking habits. In my case, my foreman was most often the guy buying the first round.