LSF Publications: spanking fiction ebooks

Prologue
The community hall had once been part of a large school; the rest of the building had been destroyed, leaving only the school hall, and that had been adapted for its current use by the small farming community. The stage was not being used; those watching would be very close. She stood, holding her husband's hand tightly, scared, for this was her first public punishment. She doubted she could be any more scared if she was herself about to be punished.

They were at the front of the horseshoe-shaped group of spectators as befitted her husband's standing in the community. A short distance away, and the centre of everyone's attention, was the wooden punishment block. Ironically it had been made by the husband of one of the two women due to be punished. Simon Chandler was the carpenter and joiner of the district. He too was a man of substance, with several men working for him, and two apprentices; but man of substance or not, his wife would not be spared her public spanking.

The wooden punishment block was a fine example of the craftsman's trade: no nails or dowels had been used, only meticulously made complex joints. The finish was exquisite and she couldn't help wondering at the care and love that had gone into something only used to punish. The construction was odd: a low platform at the front was for kneeling on, then an angled riser, and finally a top platform which sloped downwards. The person kneeling would be bent over, their upper body angling down to become lower than their bottom.

From a door in the corner a group made an entrance. There was Master Cartwright, District Overseer; the Rev. Nathaniel Phillips ... a burly man carrying a small case; two women dressed in flimsy white robes that barely reached the knees; and four older women, each properly dressed, supporters for the women in white. Master Cartwright separated himself from the others, and raising himself to his full height addressed the horseshoe of spectators.

"Brothers and Sisters, it is a sad occasion when one of our number offends against the community. Punishment must follow to cleanse and purify us all, but after punishment must come forgiveness. Once these punishments are done with today our sisters will be restored to us and no mention of their past deeds need be made."

She thought that Master Cartwright was as windy and pompous as usual but she gave no sign of her contempt. Her husband squeezed her hand a little to show that he knew what she thought and agreed.

"Rev. Phillips will now lead us in prayer."

The prayer was also long and windy; she thought that if she was standing waiting in that skimpy gown of penitence she would be screaming for them to get on with it.

Master Cartwright puffed up his chest again and announced, "Ruth Chandler will now make her confession."

Chapter One
Demi lay on the bed and sobbed. Her life was in a downward spiral and she saw no hope of fixing it, no light at the end of the tunnel, as her dad used to say. No, if anything, the light in her tunnel was an old fashioned train coming right at her. Frankly, she welcomed the idea: a quick and painless death to end her suffering.

"Dem-me, are you all right?" a familiar voice said behind her.

Snapping up to a sitting position, she stifled her tears, and wiped her face before turning to face him. She managed a small smile. "Tyne, how many times have I told you, it's pronounced 'Demi'!"

"I am sorry, but there are aspects of your human language that still escape me. Again I ask, why are you troubled?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine. I have to be going. Your beds are all made; fresh towels are in the bathroom."

She moved for the door, but he was easily able to block her. They made for quite a pair. She a petite (a hair under five-feet) yet muscular young woman with a pageboy haircut (she liked keeping her black hair super short), and he a Florian. Tyne was part of the delegation from Planet Florian, the newest planet to join the Confederation, and they'd been on Earth for a month now negotiating the terms of the treaty. The Florians were quite the beautiful race: incredibly tall (seven feet was the minimum height), long golden hair, and features that made them look like elves or some other mystical beings. That first day, when they arrived at the diplomatic hotel, Demi had been smitten by Tyne, and been deeply moved by the fact that he treated her (an ordinary maid) like a real person.

Most people didn't, especially her ex-husband.

Tyne knelt down so they were almost face to face and scoldingly wagged his long index finger at her. "Dem-me, do not lie to me. What is troubling you?"

She stood there and hung her head, a tear trickling down her cheek. "The hotel is cutting my hours."

"Cut... hours? Ah, they are reducing your workload. That is not acceptable. Do you not have a high debt and must struggle to get your ends to come together?"

"It's 'make ends meet', Tyne," she said with a weak smile.

He cupped her tiny chin in his large hand. "At least it made you smile. Is there not something to be done for you?"

"Tyne, that's very sweet of you to ask about, but I'll deal with it. I can look for a third job and see if the casino will give me an extension."

"Cas-ino? I thought your debts were with financial institutions."

"Banks, we call them banks, and yes, most of my debt is with them, but my ex also gambled a lot, and left me with the debts at the gambling places."

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.