Friday, September 6, 2013

Spanking Confession...

For some reason the subject of Spanking has come up for me a lot recently, when it had been off my personal radar for many years. This might be due to my recent participation in Google communities that I've joined where Spanking is the main topic of discussion. That old titillating feeling I associate with having my bottom spanked (as opposed to other BDSM kink) has definitely returned. It’s no secret that spanking is an intensely personal topic for me, and where my attraction for the fetish world began. The image of a doubled leather belt in the hand of an authoritarian male is right at the heart of my sexual obsessions. (The About Lizbeth letter on my Pink Flamingo website begins with this very discussion)

And now, strangely enough, this image appears prominently in the novel I'm currently working on. A coincidence? I don’t think so.

While I'd left that image alone and moved to more elaborate BDSM fantasy in much of my writing, the power behind that singular image has not wavered. And, to be truthful, while Google communities might play a role in my renewed interest, I suspect that most influential in revisiting my old obsession is finding that the man with the leather belt has emerged in the flesh, front and center in my life. The exhilarating return to my first passion is akin to embracing an old friend I’d not played with in a long while – too long perhaps. Perhaps this is just a pleasant stroll down memory lane. However, at least at this point, I hope it’s not just a mere stroll, but a place I’ll remain (with my sore behind) for a good long while.

There's no leather belt in this excerpt from my Spanking novel, Southern Exposure. But there's one red hot bottom and lots of steamy sex.

Spanking drama on a South Seas Island – one sexy, high-spirited female and three hot men. It’s Lauren’s hope that she can fend off her controlling boss, Sean McDonough, and his spanking threats, in favor of something sexier and a lot more fun with her colleague, Patrick.

A half-hour after dinner, Lauren was in her hut changing clothes for her date. She assumed the knock on the door was Patrick and she called to him, “Come in.”

    The minute the door opened, she started anxiously, knowing something was wrong. Turning about she confronted Sean—the expression on his face ominously predicted the scene to follow.

    “Why’d you lie, Lauren?” were the first words out of his mouth—and they came like a rude breeze to spark the sexual tension.


    “Yeah, boldfaced lie about your stop on Damage Island.”

    She sighed, sure it was pointless to argue. He’d found out as if he had a sixth sense about everything concerning her.

    “Patrick told you?” 

    “I don’t have to pry the facts out of him. He’s up front from the get-go. I asked him point blank and he told me the truth. Unlike you. What other lies have there been in the last few days?”

     She thought of the omissions in her reports, and the dozen things that would never catch his attention. Would she admit that? she thought for a moment as she stared into his green glaring eyes.

    “I didn’t think it should matter, Sean. I would have insisted that I explore the island—which is what I’m here for. What difference does it make whether I did it today, tomorrow or next Thursday? As it is, I’ll have to go back and do some more work—there are a ton of possibilities there.”

    “Then why lie?”

    She sighed, for the hundredth time exasperated by him and her feelings. “Because I didn’t want to make a scene with you. Especially when you and everyone else seem so spooked about that place.”

    “And weren’t you forced to leave in a hurry?”

    “Yes, but changes in the weather around here aren’t uncommon. It’s not reasonable, or scientific to believe there are evil things brewing there. As a scientist I think you’d be ashamed of yourself.”

    “Maybe so.” He turned remarkably passive while he examined her. He seemed to know there was something she wasn’t saying, and he looked for the truth written on her expressive face.

    “Fine then,” he finally said calmly. “Let’s just be sure that you stay above board on everything else. You need to go back to Damage, I’ll take you.”

    “You’ll take me? That’s not necessary, I can go by myself if I have to.”

    “You do that,” his eyes crackled, “you take off for any island without someone with you, you can be sure I’ll blister your ass until it’s raw.”

    “Okay, I get the picture.”


    There was jolt in arousal; her body fraught with desire with the mention of spanking again and the tension between them was only heightened more. She couldn’t stop the endless body pulsing, the desire leaping at her, and the passionate fire she held tightly in her belly. If he’d only spank her, screw her and get it over with before she did something totally stupid. Instead, however, she stood firmly before him, as Sean nodded, turned, and left her to stew in the uneasy silence that followed.

    Once he was gone, Lauren couldn’t move fast enough exiting her hut. Making her way toward the cove where she and Patrick agreed to meet, she’d be there early—and that was good. It would give her time to think, to gaze into the ocean and let her desire for Sean McDonough pass through her.

    Entering the vacant inlet, between massive rocks and crumbling boulders, she took a seat high above the swirling surf below and stared out to the sea, and at the darkening waters, and the evening mist rising above them. She jumped, frightened when she felt Patrick’s hand touch her shoulder.

    “You have another fight with Sean?” he wondered.

    “Not, really,” her reply, as she offered him a seat beside her. “He would have rather I told the truth in the first place, but it didn’t seem to bother him much. Said he’ll take me back to Damage Island if I need to go.”

    “How kind,” Patrick commented with a sarcastic inflection in his voice. “Sorry I had to tell on you, but I didn’t think it would matter. Guess I was right.”

    She smiled as he put his arm around her and drew her face to his. They kissed long and deeply, Lauren suddenly swirling in a whirlpool of fast heating lust. When the aging hippie finally backed off her heart was beating rapidly, her mind completely dazed.

    “You know, these tropical landscapes and warm days get inside the crotch and make me horny,” he said.

    “Me too.”

    “I suppose…” he stopped as though he wasn’t sure if he should continue, but then picked up where he left off, “I suppose we can dance around all preliminaries, Lauren, or we can get straight to fucking. I’d rather not beat around the bush if you know what I mean.”

    “I guess you don’t beat around the bush,” she laughed, though she didn’t need more invitation. And why put off what was obviously going to happen? She admired his directness and the way he made her feel. “Why not,” she said, “let’s fuck.”

    They didn’t have to figure this one out. Patrick was just plain horny. And with a terrific looking woman who definitely needed sex, he wasn’t about to be shy. Their mutual was all the encouragement required. Scampering off the rocks, they headed for a secluded cave, where a low tide provided them with a love-nest far from the rest of their tiny island world.

    The first clench said it all—hot and frantic, hands pouring over flesh, seeking skin. Lips locked tight, tongues burrowing deeply. A moment later, Patrick suddenly backed off.

    “You like it rough, don’t you?” he whispered as he stared into her eyes. His lips moved on her again, swimming over hers, tongue darting here and there—down her neck, behind her ears. She collapsed into him with her crotch hot and wet, as the two fell to the sand.

    “Yes, I like it rough, oh yes,” she murmured. She scratched her hands down his back, to the tail of his white tee shirt where she lifted it slowly, and drew it over his head, tossing it to the sand. She then moved toward his shorts, frustrated because they held fast.

    “Here,” he said, as he broke from his fountain of kisses to undo the button at his waistband.

    He moved back toward her neck, while his hands ripped open her long loose shirt. Her ass was in his palms, squeezing hard, then squeezing gently, mauling her like he wanted to rip her flesh away. He spanked the cheeks sharply as she purred unthinkingly, “Ah, yesss.”

    Her skin was getting hotter from each new strike of his hand and she wanted more.

    “Oh, damn yessssss.” Oblivion reigned while she moved on him eagerly. He continued to spank her as each slap on her skin energized her roving fingers and the pulse of his rising cock. She grabbed for his firm manhood, and then sinking to the beach between Patrick’s thighs, she took the erection in her mouth. Pulling the unclipped foreskin back with her lips, she drew out the head, only to let it disappear again and again.

    “Ah, you are good,” he sighed while his fingers wound their way through her curls and held her head to his crotch. “More, yes, ah yes babe.”

    She was good, very good. Inspired by the blowjob and Lauren’s enthusiastic response to the spanking, he soon sat up and pulled her over his lap like a little child. With a rain of strikes to match Sean’s heated ones, he spanked her gently and spanked her hard, finding her body replying eagerly, letting the lust in her break free.

    Was it anticipation? The long wait? The endless days of foreplay? The hours of wondering what it would be like to let go and let the feelings take over? She didn’t have to hold anything back—not with Patrick.

    There was no pain, nothing but a heated crotch and more wet froth inside the gentle apex of her groin where Patrick’s spear would soon impale her. As the brisk spanking ended, he lay back on the sand and she straddled his chest facing his feet and went down on his cock again. With her ass at his face, he spanked her even harder, until her cheeks were as bright as a Christmas bow. When she wasn’t swallowing his member, she was begging for it harder.

    “Oh, my yes, little brat,” he roared. His palm hit hard, slapping her as though he could go on forever, or at least until he shot his cum in her mouth.

    For Lauren that was not enough when she needed him inside her. Turning around, her pussy quickly smothered his hard rod with her open portal, and Patrick smiled. He gazed upwards at the bounteous beauty, admiring the two luscious nipples—the pert pink knobs falling teasingly toward his lips. “You think you can control me?” he retorted as though he were incensed. His lips covered one nipple and he sucked it hard. He had her sore ass in his hands, mauling the flesh like dough. Then, in a move too swift for her to comprehend, they rolled over, her wrists pinned behind her against the sand. His hefty member sunk inside her, jarring her to the depths of her velvety cunt.

    “You’re one hell of a woman,” he exclaimed. He sat back on his heels with his dick thrust deep, and pulled her ankles over his shoulders, then collapsed to her chest. He fucked her in earnest now, riding her hard to an explosive finish, while Lauren’s juicing cunt spasmed to its ecstatic end.

    The cum was hot and rough, like a sexy miracle. For a slip of time it took away her restless agitation and left her in peace. But because of it—because of the force and the fire and the smacks to her ass, she knew what her body craved.

    “Ah, Patrick, would you spank me more? Please,” she asked with her first full breath of air “I need to get this out of my system. Spank me hard and make it hurt. And I mean really hurt.” Her desperate plea was filled with passion as were her eyes and the expression on her face.

    He smiled and said with an appreciative shake of his head, “You are a randy bitch.”

    “Yes, like I’m an old world wench,” she sighed, “like I’m everything Sean McDonough sees in women.”

    “Or a little tart that has no business on this fucking island with a crotch so hot she can’t stand it,” he declared. “You need to be fucked, Lauren Elliot. Fucked, sucked and spanked.”

    “Yes, I do,” she agreed. “Just keep me out of Sean McDonough’s clutches. Please.”

    “Is that what you want? Really?”

    “Yes. That’s what I want,” she was sincere.

    Patrick laughed at her enthusiasm, but didn’t argue, “Sounds good to me.”

    They lay together panting breathlessly for several minutes while Lauren’s anxious request sunk in. Patrick was sure he knew what Lauren really needed—and as long as he was the recipient of her affections, he’d be happy to give her what she wanted. He liked nothing better than taking a willing woman to their submissive depths—especially one that asked for it so passionately.

    “Humm, well, let’s see about spanking you,” he mused as he sat up and looked around the cave, as though he expected to find exactly what he needed. Not satisfied with the few meager pieces of seaweed and driftwood around them, he jumped to his feet. “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

    “What are you doing?” She pulled her naked body upright and watched him curiously.

    “You’ll see.”

    Her virile hippie lover grabbed for his shorts and darted out the cave opening, leaving Lauren dazed. When he finally returned a scant two minutes later, he carried a small bundle of slender branches in his hand. Lauren’s eyes grew as wide as the pale moon rising outside the cave.

    “Won’t those cut my ass?” she gasped even though her ass tingled at the thought.

    Patrick shrugged. “So, what’s a few cuts if you’re getting what you need?”

    Of course, why not, she thought amusedly—though she’d never seen anything quite so ghastly as that ominous bundle. Minutes later her fears were confirmed as the scene began and the pain rained down.

    Diving into the pleasure, she gave one final thought to the arrogant Sean McDonough, elated to realize that she could get exactly what she needed without having to submit to that insufferable bastard!