LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

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.