tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79109694603094662692024-03-13T02:27:09.580-07:00Dirty Inky ThingsKlaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-890548337463260242016-01-10T14:18:00.000-08:002016-01-10T14:19:03.469-08:00Down In The Dungeon: A BDSM Choose-Your-Own-Kink Adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0Q3oO4PlrWnPUZn9ue0HJqmxkqOOzsEVTnXO5UXaujQYYFZgfJcxMjMxPzDSuaa34lhXSs5DRrGNxCn1XolM3qJy-9fNiQQ9JRrk9dpYDJ7T_LjgHZpp4jrk0qCcdE9sNTznz-Zi30MK/s1600/Down+In+The+Dungeon+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn0Q3oO4PlrWnPUZn9ue0HJqmxkqOOzsEVTnXO5UXaujQYYFZgfJcxMjMxPzDSuaa34lhXSs5DRrGNxCn1XolM3qJy-9fNiQQ9JRrk9dpYDJ7T_LjgHZpp4jrk0qCcdE9sNTznz-Zi30MK/s400/Down+In+The+Dungeon+Cover.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Blurb:</span></u></b></div>
<i>This is an erotic story with a difference - in this tale YOU get to choose what happens! Modelled after the choose-your-own-adventure books of old, this is kinky literature for the modern age. Read through and select from the different options available to control the action. There are over thirty different strands and a dozen endings to this tale of BDSM domination. </i><br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><u>Extract: </u></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
You take Jenna by the arm and lead her over to one of the spanking benches. It is a solid, heavy thing, built from wood and polished leather. Heavy straps with shining buckles dangle from each corner. With tender hands you guide Jenna into place. She kneels on the kneepads, and you cinch the heavy straps into place around her calves. Then you bend her forwards, your hand on the nape of her neck.<br />
<br />
She takes a breath as she prostrates herself over the leather back of the bench. You cinch more straps into place around her knees. She faces the floor of the dungeon, her skirt hitched up almost far enough to display her black lace panties. Obediently, she holds her hands in place against the leather pads, ready for you to secure the straps there.<br />
<br />
You take your time, making sure that she’s buckled securely in place. There in one final strap, which runs over her back. You fasten it snugly, pinning her to the bench. She cannot move, though she wriggles a little to test the bonds. You place a hand on her back, stilling her. She is so helpless before you, legs spread, arms and legs bound. Her breathing has quickened. She turns her head a little to look up at you through her hair.<br />
<br />
What will you do to her now?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Want to read the rest? Get your hands on it now at:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-82553717207442360592015-11-15T08:13:00.000-08:002015-12-03T04:29:55.432-08:00Discipline & Desire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIXaw2ae1M_AiLGJTjwralD_93j6gBIFaNMT3OEylvvJ3SwbBGaTmfbGgXsGQAm2te81aFZ2hXgsQgU8MytdBB5THp0wL_c6x8k6gz2G0uBPbtIgHjlma6dJJzT3DUxKTiAtDWnlC6db4/s1600/Discipline+New+Cover+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipIXaw2ae1M_AiLGJTjwralD_93j6gBIFaNMT3OEylvvJ3SwbBGaTmfbGgXsGQAm2te81aFZ2hXgsQgU8MytdBB5THp0wL_c6x8k6gz2G0uBPbtIgHjlma6dJJzT3DUxKTiAtDWnlC6db4/s400/Discipline+New+Cover+2.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
<i>Ever since she started university, Cassie has been obsessed with her lecturer Julia. Instead of taking notes, she spends her time drawing sketches and playing out fantasies in her head. Cassie longs to be disciplined by her lecturer. And yet she knows it can never happen... or can it? One day Julia asks Cassie to stay behind after class. What happens next changes both their worlds.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i></i><br />
<a name='more'></a><i><br /></i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
Cassie lies flat on her bed, face down with her hand underneath her. Her housemates are home, and gathered in the kitchen downstairs, and so she bites the pillow to keep herself from making any noise. She thinks of Julia. Beautiful Julia with her tight body and her bright blue eyes. Her pulled-back hair and slender hips. The soft curve of Julia’s tits, hidden beneath her sweater. Cassie’s fingers explore the cleft between her legs, rubbing in long, slow circles. Cassie shudders with pleasure.<br />
<br />
She imagines herself and Julia alone in Julia’s office. Julia pushing her back against the desk – steadying her with one confident hand, turning her face up and drawing her into a long, slow, open-mouthed kiss. She imagines removing Julia’s sweater to discover those perfect, heavy breasts cupped in half-moons of black satin – the same black satin that arrows between Julia’s slim legs.<br />
<br />
Cassie is so wet that her fingers slip. So wet that she’s dripping. She dips her fingers inside herself and can’t help but moan at the sensation. In her brain, behind her closed eyes, she makes her fingers into Julia’s fingers. She is lying on Julia’s desk while Julia kisses her, and works at her pussy. Then Julia is kissing her neck, her breasts, her stomach. Down and down... and Cassie imagines that her fingers are not her fingers anymore at all, but Julia’s sweet, wet tongue.<br />
<br />
Something is quivering in the pit of Cassie’s stomach now. The pitch of it rising. Her free hand makes a fist of the bedsheets and her body spasms a little, her hips rocking against her hand. She feels like a firework with a burning fuse, like a cup about to overflow. She bites down hard on the pillow and pictures Julia on the desk now instead of her. Julia naked (so beautiful, her skin so perfect) and spread and ready for her. And she imagines lowering herself to Julia, bringing her mouth to Julia’s pussy and tasting her. Tasting her juices. Licking her clit, and feeling her writhe with pleasure. She imagines Julia’s hands gripping her hair, pushing her down. Julia grinding her hips up against her.<br />
<br />
Cassie imagines Julia coming, and that is enough to send her over the edge. She groans into the pillow once more, and the firework in her belly explodes, sending sparks skittering to the very top of her head, to the tips of her toes, all the way up her spine. She shudders, convulses, her hand cupping her spasming pussy. She cannot think – her mind is a screaming blank. All she knows is pleasure so intense it takes her breath away.<br />
<br />
When at last her orgasm subsides, Cassie curls up in her bed and lies there, slowly regaining her breath. Lazy little sparks still spiral through her stomach and limbs, and each one reminds her of Julia. Beautiful, unattainable, impossible Julia. Cassie thinks that she may very well be in love.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Want to read the rest? Get your hands on it now at:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3>
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/447164" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B017POVEC6" target="_blank">Amazon USA</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B017POVEC6" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a></h3>
</div>
Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-13373314366994499352015-10-15T12:04:00.000-07:002015-12-03T04:33:53.912-08:00The Punishment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVb5lHk_OdwIm5lKmUPvPdTYzg4LdCfg5hWLPhCTUIi8q3BHm32fawMMRVw_hmMfdWFW0v54BPxivBCC6P2gFIp8wqrZz5cAvlAveFb3y44zgul4rL88QLcKssAx869E526geMkau7J1Cd/s1600/Punishment+Basic+Cover+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVb5lHk_OdwIm5lKmUPvPdTYzg4LdCfg5hWLPhCTUIi8q3BHm32fawMMRVw_hmMfdWFW0v54BPxivBCC6P2gFIp8wqrZz5cAvlAveFb3y44zgul4rL88QLcKssAx869E526geMkau7J1Cd/s400/Punishment+Basic+Cover+2.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
<i>Miranda has been a bad girl. She played away and didn't tell her master -
and worse still she kept the whole thing a secret for almost a year.
Now, however, she can't help but let the guilty secret slip out - and so
she must bend over and take her punishment. It'll be one of the most
severe spankings she's ever received, but she wants nothing more than to
be forgiven, and so she'll grit her teeth and endure every single
stroke... </i><br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
<br />
David's punished me twice before. He spanks me on a regular basis, of course, but that's different. When we're playing he uses his hand, or his leather belt, both of which don't hurt all that much. In fact, a nice long hand spanking is more pleasurable than it is painful. When it's a punishment, however, he uses his crop. It's a hateful thing - thin and flexible and whippy. It hurts like fire - I'd rather take a hundred strokes from David's belt than ten from the crop.<br />
<br />
The previous two punishments were for pretty minor infractions. The first time it was because I borrowed his credit card to buy a few clothes, and ended up spending more than he'd agreed to. Like an idiot I didn't tell him, hoping that he perhaps wouldn't notice. But he did, and he gave me twenty strokes with the crop for it, which I took while lying flat on the bed with my hands behind my head. When I stood up afterwards the pillow was wet with tears and my backside hurt like I'd just been branded - but the guilty weight I'd been carrying around for the last week was gone, and I was glad of it.<br />
<br />
The second the time it was because I drove home after a work party when I'd had a few drinks. Maybe I was over the limit, maybe not, but either way it was a stupid, stupid decision. I could easily have got a taxi, or got a lift home with a friend. For that David's punishment was thirty strokes, which he gave me while I stood in the middle of the floor, bent over and gripping my ankles.<br />
<br />
Both times we'd talked it out and agreed that a punishment was the best way forward. And both times I'd felt so much better afterwards - lighter, happier, absolved of my sins. David said he felt happier too, knowing that I wouldn't behave in those ways again, knowing that I'd learned my lesson the hard way. <br />
<br />
This time I knew that I'd be learning the very hard way. Thirty strokes would be getting off lightly - I'd count myself fortunate, I decided, if he gave me anything less than fifty. But that was fine - I wanted to be punished, I wanted to suffer for what I'd done. I'd never needed the pain or the humiliation of a long, hard spanking more than I did then. That was the only way I could be sure that David would forgive me. More than anything that was the only way I could really and truly forgive myself.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Want to read the rest? Get you hands on it now at:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/extreader/read/399805/1/the-punishment" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B017V94ZCQ" target="_blank">Amazon USA</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B017V94ZCQ" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a></h3>
Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-21380242642309864622015-08-14T08:49:00.000-07:002015-12-03T04:44:34.899-08:00Anna's Kinky Housemate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2tgtGUgNz6X9GrO2yBKBzuutNso8g39PMB-VAUSohGwUjQe7PCHXjYtstjiMLqBioYT05FHXCLN5fKgbwBOlXWj7YA5vFrNP6lz4e7EqIZENSIrLkYZv6kzwKen5tW9dQD677FXxOXWPu/s1600/Anna+Basic+Cover+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2tgtGUgNz6X9GrO2yBKBzuutNso8g39PMB-VAUSohGwUjQe7PCHXjYtstjiMLqBioYT05FHXCLN5fKgbwBOlXWj7YA5vFrNP6lz4e7EqIZENSIrLkYZv6kzwKen5tW9dQD677FXxOXWPu/s400/Anna+Basic+Cover+2.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
<br />
<i><span itemprop="description">Anna has long been curious about the
bedroom activities of her beautiful new housemate Rosie. Through the
wall that their bedrooms share she's heard Rosie being spanked... and
she couldn't be more envious! Anna longs to be the one on the receiving
end of some punishment. Fortunately for her it's not long before her
fantasy becomes reality....</span></i><br />
<span itemprop="description"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>Extract:</u></span></span></b></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ignoring Anna's whispered protests, Rosie said, "Yeah,
actually. Anna here would very much like you to take her over your knee and
spank her."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Danny's voice registered no surprise, only a mild amusement.
"Would she now?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Very much," said Rosie.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Rosie, no, I couldn't. I can't..." Anna wished
that she could just shrivel up, find a hole to crawl into and hide. It was bad
enough Rosie knowing what she was interested in, let alone Danny. And yet at
the same time, deep down in her belly something had caught light. There was a
spark of excitement there, glowing hotly. The idea that she might actually be
spanked, and soon, and by Danny (who she had always secretly found very
attractive) was exquisite. While part of her was desperate to escape, part of
her hoped and wished and prayed that it would continue.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"It's okay, babe," said Rosie. "I'll be right
here holding your hand. Come on. What do you say?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There was silence. Nobody moved. Danny and Rosie were both
staring at her, waiting for some form of assent. All she would have to do was
nod, and then it would be out of her control, no longer her choice. Anna shut
her eyes. She imagined Danny's strong hands holding her down. Imagined hearing
the smack of skin on skin and feeling the accompanying burst of pain. Imagined
squirming as he punished her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eyes still firmly shut, Anna nodded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Good girl," said Rosie. "Come on then, up
you get."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Things happened quickly after that. Rosie helped Anna stand
up, and Danny took the chair in which she had been sitting. Gently but firmly
Rosie steered her to one side and directed her to kneel next to Danny. Anna
kept her head tipped forward so that her curly hair hid her blushing face. Her
heart was pounding and everything suddenly seemed to have become more intense.
She could feel every strand of the carpet underneath her knees. She was aware
of every stitch of clothing she wore moving against her skin. She felt as
though she could feel the heat of Danny's body, only inches away from her own.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Now," said Rosie. "Over his lap." She
helped Anna come forward and lie herself across Danny's knees. It was an
awkward position, and one that Anna had never been in before. His legs pressed
into her stomach, one across her hips and one just underneath her breasts. Her
knees were off the floor, but her legs were crooked. She didn't know what to do
with her arms and so she held the edge of the chair - at least until Rosie came
and knelt in front of her and took both her hands in her own. "Smile for
me, babe," she said, brushing Anna's hair from her face. Anna managed a
weak half-grin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"How many does she want?" asked Danny.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Give her ten to start with," said Rosie.
"See how she takes them" Then she said to Anna. "You're going to
stay still like a good girl, aren't you babe?"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anna nodded, staring into Rosie's eyes. Her heart was pounding
and her breath came shallowly. Her skin tingled. It was actually happening.
Right this very second the thing about which she had fantasised for months was
about to take place. It was hard to believe that it wasn't all some mad dream.
She shifted her thighs against one another, feeling as she did so how wet she
already was.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"Ready?" said Danny.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Want to read the rest? Get your hands on it now at:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/380071" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> | <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/380071" target="_blank">Amazon USA</a> | <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B017GFVCFS" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-35250497892875716722013-10-11T09:02:00.001-07:002015-12-06T09:29:24.338-08:00Back To School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkEw5eIuHHSd7D0NVVSNpsOZKW1EWhgXRI5QznyvZE2tkCRaXdWCQObOpp2r8ImmVB3d5XjV0gVDYaypJ_EVQni_h-CSTE6RWD98lPCGUj2cXfAYIuISo2d1JkStFYNd9nuzchQBUkda4/s1600/Back+To+University.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkEw5eIuHHSd7D0NVVSNpsOZKW1EWhgXRI5QznyvZE2tkCRaXdWCQObOpp2r8ImmVB3d5XjV0gVDYaypJ_EVQni_h-CSTE6RWD98lPCGUj2cXfAYIuISo2d1JkStFYNd9nuzchQBUkda4/s320/Back+To+University.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
<i><span itemprop="description">In this prequel to the "Education" series
we follow a young student in her first year at St Martinas academy - the
last university in the UK to still use the cane. This doesn't worry our
good-girl narrator, of course, since there's no way she'd ever break a
rule. What she hasn't counted on, however, is sadistic prefect Mellissa,
who seems determined to find some excuse to dole out a punishment. </span></i><br />
<span itemprop="description"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span itemprop="description">Extract:</span></span></span></b></u></div>
<span itemprop="description">Melissa hovered by each bed, examining it for the slightest crease or wrinkle. She was a tall girl, with a neat brown bob and a sharp and knowing face. I watched the expression on that face as she moved from bed to bed. A slight twitch of the nose, or a little movement at the corner of her mouth made me feel like I was balancing on the edge of a deep, dark pit.<br /><br />I watched as she came to Jane's bed. Poor Jane looked like she was about to burst into tears again already - I could see her legs trembling. But - as I kept telling myself - there could be no punishment. The dorm was perfect. Working together we'd spent almost an hour cleaning it.<br /><br />Melissa seemed to have come to the same conclusion. She strode to the middle of the floor. Even though it was just an inspection she had brought her cane with her and she held it clasped behind her back. Her face was sour - obviously she wasn't very pleased to have no excuse to punish us. I breathed a sigh of relief.<br /><br />Too early, as it turned out. After a moment's hesitation, Melissa's face lit up and she moved to the door, reached up and ran a finger along the top of the frame. It came away coated in dust, which she showed to the room with a sly smile on her face. She flicked the dust away.<br /><br />"Disgusting," she announced. "It is your shared responsibility to keep this dormitory in good condition. This is unacceptable. Line up, all of you."<br /><br />At this stage we were all scared, fresh young students, just turned eighteen, who wouldn't dare disobey a prefect. We did as we were told, all four of us: me, Jane, Helen and Winter forming a line in the middle of the room. <br /><br />"Now," said Melissa, and I could hear the delighted cruelty in her voice, "all of you bend over and hold your ankles."<br /><br />That was the moment when I knew a punishment was coming. I looked desperately to my roommates, hoping that one of them would protest, but no. Jane, terrified, had already bent over and put her hands around her ankles. Helen and Winter, with pained looks on their faces, did the same. It was so unfair - I couldn't believe that I was about to be caned. Me! I'd never broken a school rule in my life. And yet, just like the others I found myself bending over, wrapping my hands around my ankles. I felt my school skirt ride up a little and I bent my knees, hoping that my knickers weren't exposed.<br /><br />In that position all I could see of Melissa was her feet. I watched as she moved behind us, walking slowly, enjoying our fear. Winter was first in line, and as soon as I saw Mellissa take up position behind her I looked away, focussing on the floor. An eternity of waiting, and then...</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Want to find out what happens next? Get the full story at:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-83254129492435644372013-05-23T11:47:00.001-07:002015-12-06T09:35:30.930-08:00A Full Education<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
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<i><span itemprop="description">In response to demand from readers, here
are all three parts of the "Education" series presented together in one
volume. This is the story of Jane, a student at the prestigous St
Martinas university - the only college in the UK still to use the cane
as a method of punishment...</span>
</i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
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The silence in the hall was absolute. I was sure I could hear the blonde girl breathing, though looking back that must have been my imagination. Anderson's footsteps echoed as he strode across to the side of the stage and picked up the cane. It was a thin, whippy black thing. Not wood, but something synthetic and cruel looking. Anderson crossed the stage once more, slowly and leisurely, and took up position behind the blonde girl.<br />
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Everyone waited.<br />
<br />
"Last week Elisia Simpson and Cherry Harris left university grounds without signing out, and returned drunk and under the influence of drugs. For this breach of the rules each shall receive fifty strokes with the cane." Anderson turned his attention to the blonde girl, Elisia, speaking to the back of her head in a voice the whole hall could hear. "If you swear or otherwise behave unacceptably during your punishment, an extra twelve strokes will be added."<br />
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And then, without any further ceremony, the punishment began. It was brutal.<br />
<br />
Anderson lowered the cane against the curve of Elisia's bottom, clearly taking his mark. Then he raised it up high to his shoulder and brought it swishing down. I and everyone in the hall heard the noise it made as it cut through the air. And then: CRACK! The sound of the impact was so loud and so sharp it made me jump, my heart pounding. Poor Elisia jerked against the straps the held her, a strangled yelp escaping her lips. The way she was angled I couldn't see her face, but I could imagine the look of pain there.<br />
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Anderson didn't pause. He raised the cane and brought it down again, as hard and fast as before. This time I saw it hit. Little ripples ran through the flesh of Elisia's bottom and thighs. Already livid red marks were just visible around the edges of her panties.<br />
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Another stroke. Even though I knew to expect it the sound made me cringe. He was hitting her so hard! "Oooowwww!" Elisia screamed at the top of her lungs, but Anderson paid no attention whatsoever.<br />
<br />
The strokes kept coming, hard and fast. No sound in the hall except for the rhythmic swish and CRACK of the cane, and Elisia's anguished wails. Within ten strokes she was crying freely, her body tense and thrashing against the restraints, desperate to escape any further pain. But there was no escape and she could do nothing but lie there helpless and take it, and howl with fresh pain each time the rod landed.<br />
<br />
It seemed to go on forever. At thirty lashes all the fight seemed to go out of her, and she went limp over the bench, shuddering. Her yelps of pain were weak now, drowned by her sobs. "Please! Please it hurts so much. I can't... Not any more... OOOOWwww!" <br />
<br />
It felt as though the punishment had been going on forever. Thirty-five strokes, then forty. Elisia clung to the bench, head down, no longer fighting, but howling and crying out with each blow that landed. I glanced over to Cherry where she stood at the side of the stage, hands on head. She was shaking from head to toe. I wasn't surprised. What must it be like to stand there and hear Elisia's cries of pain and know that you would be next?<br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-60100278290750791192013-03-15T04:13:00.002-07:002013-03-15T04:13:50.020-07:00The Spanking Collection<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $2.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/295576">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 19132 | <b>Category:</b> Spanking</div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
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<i>For the first time ever you'll find published here in one volume all of erotic author Klayton Frost's spanking fiction. From an impromptu office spanking in "Sir" to school discipline in "A Further Education" and some severe domestic discipline in "Correction" there's something to suit every kinky taste. </i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
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Anderson stood behind his desk. "Shut the door," he said tersely, and I obeyed. "Come and stand here," he said. I did, and he looked me up and down. His eyes were merciless, cold and hard. Around his mouth hovered just the slightest hint of a smile. "Take off your clothes," he said.<br /><br />I almost balked at this. Never before had I been undressed in the presence of a man. It would be humiliating, completely against my nature... but it was an order, and I was helpless to disobey. I pulled off my school jumper and shrugged out of the shirt, feeling a blush creep up my neck as my bra was exposed. I wiggled my skirt down over my hips and discarded it, standing there now in just my underwear. Automatically I crossed my arms in front of me, shielding myself.<br /><br />Anderson leaned calmly against his desk for a moment. Then he stood, picked up the cane that rested against the wall and walked up to me. Suddenly the tip of the cane was underneath my chin. A tremor ran through me, and a small noise of surprise and fear and arousal escaped my lips. I was shaking. For the first time I felt just how hard the cane was. It bent against my skin, thin and whippy.<br /><br />"I said take off your clothes," breathed Anderson. I could smell him, his cologne washing over me. The smell hypnotic and powerful. This was the man who would punish me. He stepped back and, under his gaze, I stripped off my underwear and stood there naked as the day I was born. Without a single stitch to protect me I felt small and vulnerable. The shaking was worse now, amplifying along with my butterfly nerves.<br /><br />Anderson came to me again, and this time put a firm hand on the back of my neck, propelling my forward until I stood before the bench. And then that same hand, still snug on the back of my neck, was pushing me down, bending me over. My skin met wood and leather with what felt like an electric shock. I lay across the bench, my bottom exposed, my sex open, utterly naked, my brain a storm of conflicting emotions. I was horny and scared and euphoric all at once.<br /><br />And then Anderson started fastening the straps. Something happened to me as the first one cinched tight on my wirst. I was trapped now, bound and confined. I could not escape, could not struggle--and my first reaction was pure, shuddering panic. But it didn't last. With each restraint he fastened the terror diminished. My choice had been taken away. I was going to face my punishment, whether I wanted to or not. It wasn't my choice anymore, but his. Completely his.<br /><br />The final strap pulled tight over the small of my back, leather against flesh. And then to my surprise I felt Anderson's hands brushing my cheeks. Something rubbery and large was pushed gently into my mouth, forcing my jaw open wide. I bit down on it as a strap was fastened around the back of my head. I had been gagged. Even if I changed my mind halfway through, even if the cane was too much for me to stand, I would not be able to protest. Around the rubber obstruction of the gag I could hear myself whimpering softly with arousal and fear.<br /><br />The next thing I heard was the sound of Anderson picking up the cane.<br /><br />Seconds stretched out, and I lay there face down, unable to see what was happening behind me. I could feel the pulse pumping in my sex. I could feel my tense limbs tight against the restraints. My heart thudded fit to burst.<br /><br />Just do it, I wanted to scream at him. Just get it over with.<br /><br />I heard the swish of the cane cutting the air a moment before it hit my flesh. The pain was excruciating. A white hot whipline of hurt across my backside. My teeth clamped down automatically on the gag and a scream stifled in my throat. <br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-20411714228486593262013-02-14T14:53:00.001-08:002013-02-14T14:53:30.910-08:00Dania<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $1.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/273788">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 5184 | <b>Category:</b> BDSM</div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
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<i>Our young narrator has only ever had one boyfriend when she moves away to university and meets Dania. Confident, exotic Dania, who talks openly about her interests in bondage and domination. It's not long before our narrator plucks up the courage to ask Dania to show her what she's talking about - and show her Dania does...</i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
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Suddenly, without knowing quite how I got there, I was sitting in her room, quite relaxed and at ease as she talked openly about flogging and whipping and tying and gags. Something about her, and about the matter-of-fact, confident way she said these things put me inexplicably at ease.<br /><br />"And then you have the single tail whip. That's my favourite, but it hurts like hell. You have to be careful. If you do it too hard it can even cut the skin. It's not something to mess about with."<br /><br />I sipped my vodka and coke. It was surreal, to sit here and have all these glorious secrets poured out for me. It was almost like a dream. After years of wondering, things were spread out now in front of me like an open toybox. And it felt, impossibly, like the most normal thing in the world.<br /><br />Drink had made me bold. "So... do you... are you, like, the one who does things to the other one?" I asked.<br /><br />Dania smiled. "You mean am I a domme?"<br /><br />I'd never heard the word before, but it excited me in exactly the same way that the word "whip" did. There was something about it that was deeply and erotically feminine. "What does that mean?"<br /><br />"It means that I'm the dominant one," explained Dania. "I'm the one who's in control, the one who inflicts pain. The one who fucks rather than the one who gets fucked. Usually, anyway."<br /><br />It was hard to stop myself giggling at the word "fuck". Part of me was still as innocent as a schoolgirl, frightened of being caught using bad language.<br /><br />"So you've whipped people?" I asked.<br /><br />"Of course," said Dania.<br /><br />"Girls and boys?"<br /><br />"Mainly girls. Most boys don't really turn me on."<br /><br />"What... what's it like?" The question trembled on its way past my lips, but I felt a thrill of excitement as soon as I'd said it.<br /><br />"It's good," said Dania, smiling as if in memory. "The feeling of power is like nothing else. But it's more than that. It's seeing the way your sub - that's the submissive, the other person - seeing the way they react to the pain, or to your touch. It's so powerful, knowing what you can do to them. Knowing how much pleasure you can give them..."<br /><br />She tailed off, watching my face, and I became aware of myself again. A pulse beat in between my legs, and I felt a warmth there that I hadn't felt in a long time. Her words were like matches flaring, lighting a fuse that lead directly to my brain.<br /><br />There was a long, quiet moment then, both of us sitting and considering each other across the empty, intimate space of the small room. I could feel myself wavering on the edge of something, on the very lip of a world that I was both desperate and terrified to explore.<br /><br />Eventually, I opened my mouth again. "Will you show me?" I said, this time without even the slightest tremor.<br /><br />Dania returned my gaze, equally steady. "Certainly," she said. And then she hopped quickly to her feet. "But not tonight. You're drunk, and I want you sober the first time we play. Tomorrow. Come back tomorrow evening and then I'll... show you."<br /><br />"Tomorrow evening," I repeated. It already seemed like an age away, and there was no getting away from the fact of my horniness, the need that was crawling in my belly like a hunger. "Can't we-"<br /><br />"Tomorrow," said Dania firmly. "Come to my room at seven. Wear a skirt and a top. No underwear. You understand?"<br /><br />I felt a little thrill that only made the longing worse. I almost shuddered with it. Being given orders by her. No underwear. "I understand," I said. <br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-44757914462859768002013-02-03T15:45:00.001-08:002013-02-03T15:45:12.192-08:00Sir (Part Two)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $0.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/251280">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 6672 | <b>Category:</b> Spanking</div>
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<i>The evening when her boss called her into his office, then spanked her over his desk was one of the most intense and erotic of Clare's life. But what now? Can she really just forget that it happened and go back to her loving (but cringingly gentle) boyfriend? Or will she be able to admit to her needs and desires and seek out something more?</i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
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By the time the end of the work day rolled around, Clare was a nervous wreck. The thought of the approaching confrontation had played on her mind all day, and with it thoughts of seeing Jonathan again, of being alone together in his office again. It was unbearable. Alternately she was seized with arousal and guilt and nerves and shivering anticipation. It was no surprise that when she did eventually step through his door at five fifteen PM she was shivering all over.<br /><br />Jonathan sat at his desk, signing his way through a pile of documents. Without looking up to see who had entered, he motioned for her to sit, and Clare did so, her knees folding almost of their own accord. She clasped her hands in her lap and tried to still the shaking. She had no reason to be afraid. She knew exactly what she was going to say, and there was little he could do to her that he hadn't done already. All the same, the butterflies would not abate.<br /><br />It was four or five minutes before Jonathan set aside his work and looked up at her with a hard, piercing gaze. "Clare," he said politely. "What can I do for you?"<br /><br />She swallowed, the sound clearly audible in the small room.<br /><br />"I think we need to talk," she said.<br /><br />"Talk?" said Jonathan, raising an eyebrow. "About what, pray?"<br /><br />Clare swallowed again. "About last Friday. About... what happened."<br /><br />The ghost of a smile crossed Jonathan's face, but otherwise he remained impassive. "Of course." He made an encouraging gesture towards her. "Talk then. You have my attention."<br /><br />Clare paused. She knew what she was planning on saying, but part of her was also overwhelmed completely by the aura of power that seemed to surround him. Despite all her promises to herself, she felt sure that a few words from him would be enough to make her do almost anything.<br /><br />"Well," she said determinedly. "I've thought about it a lot over the weekend, and I just wanted to say that it can never happen again."<br /><br />"Oh. And why is that?"<br /><br />Clare couldn't help but sound apologetic. "Because I have a boyfriend. And I love him. And I'm not going to... to cheat on him."<br /><br />Jonathan considered her over steepled fingers. He nodded slowly. "Good," he said. "Very noble." And then, his voice taking on an unexpected sharpness, he said, "Stand up."<br /><br />Clare stood, her limbs moving almost of their own accord, her mind in a whirl. What was he doing? What was she doing obeying him like this?<br /><br />"Take a step forward," he said, and again she did so without a moment's hesitation. "Now bend over the desk."<br /><br />At this last command a small gasp escaped her. It felt as if a firework had gone off in her stomach. Part of her was eager, part afraid, and part outraged that he had so plainly ignored her little stand against him. The eagerness was the strongest of the three, and it surprised her. It was powerful as an animal, unyielding and feverish and needy. The thought that she would feel his hand on her again, punishing her, giving her pain and pleasure both at once...<br /><br />She bent over the desk, arms and hands flat on the surface just as she had done before. Maybe this was a bad idea, but there would be time to think about that later... <br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-81410890835499894362013-01-20T15:29:00.004-08:002013-01-20T15:29:49.731-08:00Truth Or Dare<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $1.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/208959">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 5476 | <b>Category:</b> Threesome </div>
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<i>It begins with a knock on the door late one night, and an invitation that David can scarcely believe is real. Does he want to join Mel and Julia in their room for a game of truth or dare? David joins the game, and things quickly begin to escalate with a series of more and more risque dares. How long will it be before the sexual tension becomes overwhelming? Read on to find out.</i><br />
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It was Mel's turn after that, and predictably enough, she picked me.<br /><br />"Dare," I said.<br /><br />"Oh," said Mel. She had to think for ages before she could come up with anything. Me and Julia teased her as she tried to think. I pretended to fall asleep and Julia kept looking pointedly at her watch and yawning. At last Mel's face lit up. "I've got one," she announced. "I dare you to take off your top." Just as she had before when she asked me to come up to her room she rushed the words out, as though she were shy of what she was saying.<br /><br />For a moment there was a kind of resistance in me. Shyness. Take off my top before the gaze of two attractive girls I'd only just met. But then I thought: what the hell. I'm never going to be asked such a thing again. Might as well make the most of it. Setting down my beer on the desk I stood and pulled my t-shirt over my head. It dropped to the floor, and I sat again feeling about ten times more naked than I actually was. Julia was studying me with a kind of blatant curiosity that I found strangely appealing. Mel was looking too, although she was shy enough to try and hide it.<br /><br />"Your turn," said Mel to Julia.<br /><br />"Hmm," she said, stroking her chin in mock-thought. "I think I'll go with David as well."<br /><br />"Dare," I said again. I'd decided right then and there that I was going to answer dare whenever I was asked. No exceptions.<br /><br />Julia smiled wickedly. "Give Mel a kiss," she said. "A proper one. It's got to last at least a minute."<br /><br />"Julia!" cried Mel. I almost gasped myself. It was strange the way a kind of charge ran through the air. In that second we all knew that it was going to happen, that--now that the dare had been uttered--there was no going back on it. And somehow by making the dare Julia had unlocked something. If we went through with this then anything could happen afterwards...<br /><br />"It's a dare Mel. Now be a good girl..." The wicked smile was still there on her lips. I realised that Julia would be watching the whole performance. Better make it good, I thought. Raising an arm I beckoned Mel to come over to me, and like a puppet on strings she rose. I could see that she was blushing furiously and trying to hide behind her hair. She came and stood by my chair and sort of bent halfway down towards me. She knew that she had to play along (it was a dare after all) but she didn't know how close she was allowed to come to me. In a way it was rather sweet.<br /><br />To help her out I reached up and put a gentle hand on the back of her neck. In one smooth, quick movement I pulled her down into a kiss. Her mouth met mine, and for a second there was an awkward stiffness there. Then she melted, gave herself over to it. Her mouth opened and her lips met mine. She tasted sweetly of cherry lip gloss. My tongue pressed against hers and my hand slipped up her neck to the side of her face. Her eyes were closed. After a minute I felt her cool hand on my bare chest, just resting there. It sent thrills through me, and I kissed her harder, exploring her mouth, her tongue, her teeth, her lips. There was complete silence in the room. Not a sound. Not a movement.<br /><br />It went on for far longer than a minute. And in the end it was me who pulled away. Mel hovered, eyes closed in the air in front of me, looking almost as though she were still waking from a dream. The she blinked and straightened up. Her blush--which had all but disappeared--returned full force, and she quickly retreated to her place on the bed, and buried her smiling face in the duvet. I breathed steadily. My heart was pounding and my dick was hard, pressing against the fabric of my jeans.<br /><br />Julia, still seated in her place on the bed, gave a low whistle. "Your turn, David," she said.<br /><br />"Julia again," I said without hesitation.<br /><br />"Dare," replied Julia, equally quickly.<br /><br />It only took a moment's thought to come up with my dare. "I think I'm a bit tired of being the only half-naked one around here," I said. "Get your top off."<br /><br />Julia rolled her eyes. "Such a typical boy," she said.<br /><br />"I'm waiting."<br /><br />She sat up straighter in bed and pulled her blouse off over her head, revealing a black bra dotted with bright red hearts. Her breasts were larger than they looked beneath her clothes, rounded and inviting. It was strange how feminine her narrow shoulders looked, how slim and toned her belly.<br /><br />"Happy?" she said. <br /><br />"Quite," I replied, meeting the challenge in her eyes.<br /><br />Mel's turn next. She picked Julia and Julia picked dare. "You've got to kiss David now," said Mel with obvious delight. "At least a minute, remember."<br /><br />Julia shrugged, clearly unphased. She stood and came to me and leaned down, all so quickly that I barely had time to react. Her hand was on the side of my neck and her lips met mine. I felt her tongue, luscious and hot in my mouth and--after getting over my initial shock--I responded in kind. Kissing Julia was such a totally different experience from kissing Mel. Mel had been passive, gentle, but Julia pushed herself into me with a hard, blazing urgency. She tasted of alcohol, heady and rich. I could feel her leading me, vying for dominance over the kiss, and I fought. Sometimes I lead and sometimes she.<br /><br />And then I felt her hand on my chest. Not resting there like Mel's had, but slipping lower, lower, over my naked chest and stomach and down to my jeans, where my hard cock pressed against denim. Her hand made contact through my jeans. Not an accidental touch, but a firm, full grope. I felt my dick swell in response and I relished the surprised intake of breath that Julia could not hide. I felt hard as rock, as a metal rod.<br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-64360062455103812002012-12-17T15:12:00.002-08:002012-12-17T15:12:25.700-08:00Brandy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $0.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/157198">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 1903 | <b>Category:</b> Older Woman </div>
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<i>Brandy starts out as just a teacher to our young narrator, and a decent one at that. However, it's not long before everything changes, and powerful desires begin to surface. One night everything comes to a head, and our hero realises just what it is he's been missing all along. "Brandy" is a short erotic tale of attraction and desire, featuring a relationship with an older woman.</i> <br />
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She told me to call her Brandy. We were sitting in her car outside the building where she lived when she first told me her name. I didn't think it suited her. I was more used to thinking of her as Ms Harman, my maths teacher.<br /><br />As we climbed out of the car I wondered just how this could be happening. It was hazy. Ms Harman . . . Brandy, I mean, had started teaching my class at the start of the year. She'd had a hard time of it. Mine is a boy's school, and the kids in my year aren't exactly nice. Brandy was one of those teachers where you could sense their nervousness right off, and so after a few sessions things broke down pretty badly. She'd spend half the lessons calling for quiet and not getting any, and the other half trying to teach despite being completely ignored.<br /><br />I guess I'd tried to be nice to her. A couple of times I had stayed after class to help her tidy up and we'd ended up chatting. She'd been really easy to speak to on those occasions; almost like a friend rather than a woman at least ten years my senior. I'd never really thought that much about her until that night.<br /><br />What happened that night was: we were sitting in her class, just chatting as usual, about half an hour after the school day had ended. And she offered to give me a lift back to my house.<br /><br />"Sure," I said, not suspecting a thing. She finished locking up and we both went out to her car. The school was pretty much empty by now. We got in and she sat at the steering wheel for a while, not looking at me. Then she said:<br /><br />"You know, if you wanted, we could go to my place first, for a while. If you'd like." She sounded so nervous about asking that for a moment I forgot how much older than me she was. Did she really mean what I thought she meant? I looked at her. Brandy was about thirty, I guess, (I'd just passed eighteen at the time--I was old for my year) and she wasn't bad looking. Her hair was tied back in a short, blonde ponytail, and she had a great body. Her tits were large and round, but not massive.<br /><br />I nodded. "Sure." She smiled at me and started the engine.<br /><br />And then before I knew it we were there, and as we sat outside in the car she said, "Call me Brandy, by the way. That's my name."<br /><br />"All right." I smiled. "Brandy." I tried it out. It was weird to call a teacher by her first name. It felt personal.<br /><br />I followed her upstairs to her flat and she flicked on the lights as we entered. The place was kind of drab looking: sparsely furnished, most everything painted off-white. Books were scattered everywhere. I wondered if she lived alone, and decided just from the look of the place that she must.<br /><br />"Sit down," she said. I did so, and she got us both drinks. Wine for her and a can of coke for me. She sat primly down next to me on the sofa and we took each other in. She was wearing a knee length skirt and a plain, green top that clung tightly to her, accentuating her tits. I wondered if she'd chosen it specially, knowing that tonight she'd invite me home. The thought made me feel light-headed and I took a sip of my coke.<br /><br />"Listen . . ." she said, and then trailed off. The tension was huge, but not uncomfortable, as if we were waiting for something shared to begin. And so I decided to start it myself. I'd always been pretty comfortable around girls, and the nervousness I felt at being with an older woman was starting to dissolve. Seeing Brandy's own nervousness made it a lot easier.<br /><br />I moved closer. I reached up and, after a little gentle fiddling, unclipped her ponytail so that her hair fell down around her face. She smiled and bit her lip, looking almost painfully shy. Then we kissed. Her lips tasted strongly of wine. <br />
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<br />Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-23677976113276857992012-12-12T14:22:00.001-08:002012-12-12T14:22:03.876-08:00On The Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> Free | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/153056">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 2969 | <b>Category:</b> Erotic</div>
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<i>"On The Road" follows the story of Dawn and Cal, who meet at a rest stop one day. Frustrated and lonely, Dawn decides to throw caution to the winds and take a chance, and together they slip off into the woods. Told first from one perspective, then the other, this is a two-part erotic story involving themes of spontaneous sex and anonymous encounters.</i><br />
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She really was incredibly pretty, Cal reflected. The bulkiness of her clothes somehow accentuated her femininity, the promise of her. And those eyes . . . so bright and sharp. He risked another glance, and saw that she was still staring. This time, he didn't look away. She smiled, and they held each other's eyes. There was, Cal thought, a seriousness there. A sadness. Strange . . .<br /><br />What the hell, Cal decided. He got up and went over to her, and she stood as he approached. He had no idea what he was about to say, and so it was something of a relief when she smiled again, and raised a finger to her lips. She took his hand with her small fingers. She looked around, cautious, but the car park was empty except for them.<br /><br />"Come on," she whispered, her voice carrying a faint, lilting accent. Cal followed her, unwilling to let go her hand, as she walked to the edge of the concrete and lead him off into the wood.<br /><br />It was like a spell, an enchantment, with her leading him off into the trees. Everything was silent, and the leaves and twigs rustled under their feet. Cal didn't dare speak in case he broke the moment. They went a long way into the trees and when they were separated thoroughly from the road the girl stopped and looked around, turning completely on the spot to make sure they were completely alone. They were.<br /><br />She kissed him. She had to raise herself a little on her toes, but then their faces were close, their eyes closed, her tongue inside his mouth. Her mouth tasted faintly of fruit. Cal put his tentative hands on her back and drew her into him. Her warm, soft body pressed close through their clothes and Cal found himself hardening.<br /><br />The girl broke the kiss and backed off a way, her face flushed. The red blush made her look stunningly feminine. Cal had always had the idea that girls needed to be seduced, that they all were innocent. But this girl wasn't. She was knowing, somehow. Mature beyond her looks. She gave a tilt of her head, a coy, smiling invitation. It made Cal weak.<br /><br />"I . . ." he began, but the girl shushed him again.<br /><br />"No talk," she said. "No names." And she moved closer to him, her green eyes crossing a little as they remained fixed on him.<br /><br />Cal was not quite sure what to do. He knew that he wanted her, that he desired her, sharply and strongly. But how did you begin? He extended a hand, which she caught and moved to her waist. She tucked his hand under the hem of her sweater, resting against the cool, flat flesh of her belly. He slid his hand around the curve of her body. Beneath his fingers was the waistband of her jeans, her underwear. He curled his fingers, digging into the soft flesh of her bottom. He squeezed and stroked.<br /><br />The girl let this continue for a minute before backing away. Cal wondered if he had done something wrong, but then she began to fumble with the fastener of her jeans. He felt a brilliant spark of excitement. Was this really happening? She pulled her jeans over her hips and stepped out of them, revealing a pair of pink cotton panties, edged with white. And then she was peeling those away too, shyly, sliding them down her white, smooth legs. She stepped out of them and then looked up to meet his eyes again. Cal swallowed.<br /><br />She moved into him once more and this time Cal knew what to do. He took her, one hand on her back and one on her hip and he lowered her gently onto the ground, damp leaves crunching beneath her. Her eyes slid delicately shut, her mouth open the width of a finger.<br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-26929829712161728332012-12-03T14:51:00.001-08:002012-12-03T14:51:03.788-08:00Four Erotic Stories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $0.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/153051">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 3510 | <b>Category:</b> Short Story Collection </div>
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<i>Within "Four Erotic Stories" you'll find four wildly different sexy stories by Klayton Frost. The variety of scenarios here should content even the most demanding reader: from lesbianism to anonymous sex to sex in public and a story of solo pleasure. Lavish in detail and unrestrained in scope, these short pieces are sure to be read and enjoyed again and again.</i><br />
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Becky's first time with a girl happened almost by accident. They started out just sitting on the sofa, both of them drunk, buzzing with their drunkenness in front of the set. Then Lydia started to nuzzle at Becky's collarbone, flicking her tongue out, biting with those little, white teeth. Becky was too drunk to mind. Even when Lydia kissed her on the mouth Becky didn't do much more than laugh and push the older girl gently away.<br /><br />At the time Becky had just finished with her latest boyfriend, breaking up after a pregnancy scare. It had been a while since she had fucked anyone, and that night had been spent at various bars and clubs, looking for a likely candidate. Nobody was found, and she and Lydia had stumbled back to the flat they shared, drunk and laughing, to slump in front of the TV.<br /><br />For a while they went back to watching the set, but Lydia kept glancing at Becky. After a minute or two she extended a hand and place it flat on Becky's stomach and waited to see if she would remove it. She didn't, and so Lydia turned herself against Becky and started to grope for the other girl's breasts.<br /><br />"What are you doing?" Becky pulled away, stopping Lydia's hand. Both were still laughing and tipsy. Lydia shushed her and continued, now slipping a hand down into Becky's jeans. "Hey!" Becky pushed her away and sat back on the sofa. "What the fuck?" She prickled, feeling hot suddenly. In their eagerness, Lydia's fingers had found her clit, albeit briefly. Becky's blood was flowing.<br /><br />Becky knew Lydia was a lesbian. Had known it when they moved in together, and had been curious on many occasions. Never curious enough to try anything however.<br /><br />"No," insisted Lydia, drunkenly. "No, you'll like this."<br /><br />"I'm straight, Lydia. You know that."<br /><br />Lydia looked taken aback for a moment. In contrast to Becky's shoulder-length brown hair, Lydia's was wild and wavy and dyed a bright red. Her face was rounder too, a small butterfly tattoo peeking out from her collarbone.<br /><br />Undeterred, Lydia leaned in and put her lips over Becky's. Becky did not immediately resist, partly because of how reckless and floaty the alcohol in her system made her feel, partly because Lydia seemed so certain about what she was doing. There could be no harm in a kiss . . .<br /><br />And there was no denying, Becky thought as Lydia's tongue explored her mouth, and the two twisted together on the sofa, that this was quite enjoyable. As good as kissing a guy. Better maybe. Lydia was softer and more relaxed, and her smell was like a wine, like a thing you could drink.<br /><br />Then Lydia's hand was on the fastener of her jeans. Becky let her, intoxicated again by the older girl, her smell and the girlish taste of her mouth. Lydia see-sawed Becky's jeans down over her hips and then, stretching Becky out on the sofa, pulled them right off and let them fall to the floor. Shit, thought Becky faintly. What am I doing?<br /><br />But she couldn't ignore it now. The buzzing, building sensation in her pussy. Couldn't deny how wet she was. The two girls began another long kiss, Lydia now lying almost on top of Becky, her eyes shut. Becky shut her eyes too. Surely this was wrong, dirty? Or was the dirtiness just another part of what made it good? These thoughts whirled through Becky's head and were gone--she had no space for them, no time.<br /><br />Suddenly, Lydia was moving lower down Becky's body. Panic or excitement engulfed the younger girl and then her panties were gone, removed quickly and expertly and Lydia had started to lick.<br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-24756482268578807312012-12-01T14:07:00.001-08:002012-12-01T14:07:19.931-08:00Cuffs / Knife / Belt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> Free! | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/153046">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 1824 | <b>Category:</b> Story Collection</div>
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<i>"Cuffs / Knife / Belt" is a collection of three short erotic stories by Klayton Frost. Beginning with a pair of handcuffs, and moving onto a knife and then a leather belt, each of these pieces is a brief and intimate look into an aspect of BDSM play and kinky sex. Short and sweet, "Cuffs / Knife / Belt" is nevertheless a set of stories over which to linger.</i><br />
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He begins with the handcuffs; they are studded black leather, joined by a chain. I am naked apart from my bra and shorts. I feel smaller than usual, lying while He stands above me, his powerful body a giant to mine.<br /><br />He takes my hands and puts them above my head. He moves me around so easily--if I tried I would not be able to resist him. A strap of thick leather clamps around my wrist and is drawn tight. It is drawn around the bed post and then my other wrist is in his strong grasp. The cuff slips over my hand and He cinches it tight.<br /><br />I tilt my head back to look up at my now bound arms. The leather is dark in contrast to my skin, and the cuffs are unnecessarily thick and heavy. They look good and solid and tight.<br /><br />The next fastening is a blindfold, cutting me off from the soft light of the bedroom, denying me any knowledge of His movements. It is only when I feel His fingers parting my lips that I know I am about to be gagged. I open wide and a solid, polished ball is placed between my jaws. Though I cannot see it, I know it is red. How many times has it been inside my mouth? How many times have I bitten down about it at the moment of my climax? I raise my head from the pillow to allow him to fasten the straps behind my head.<br /><br />A collar goes around my neck. He is oddly tender, even as he secures me, making sure not to catch my hair or skin as he clicks the thing shut. I swallow, and feel my throat bob against the soft inner lining. No escaping this.<br /><br />He strokes a hand against my side, his strong, rough hand. He who owns me. He who loves me.<br /><br />The next restraints are around my thighs. They are thicker and heavier, like the bridle of some animal, and if I was not blindfolded I would be able to admire their strength. He cinches each one tight and there is the clinking of chain as he secures them to the bed. My legs are parted now, without any choice on my behalf. I am exposed to him. The bonds hold me. There is no escape and there is no fear. I am secure. I am calm with the leather around my limbs, ready for the touch of those rough hands.<br /><br />Finally come the cuffs around my ankles. The fit snugly, tightly, stretching me out on the bed like an offering to Him. As He clicks them shut my imprisonment is complete. I am tied there, held as securely as in a lover's embrace, blind and gagged and spread, awaiting His touch. <br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-16052065016270533412012-11-30T16:11:00.002-08:002012-11-30T16:11:47.154-08:00Correction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Price:</b> $0.99 | <b>Available From:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/152580">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 1653 | <b>Category:</b> Spanking</div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
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<i>Sandra loves her boyfriend Joel, and depends on him to discipline her and keep her on the straight and narrow. When Joel discovers that Sandra has been stealing jewellery, she has no choice but to confess and take her punishment... a punishment that turns out to be one of the hardest she's ever received. "Correction" is a short erotic story with themes of domestic discipline and spanking. </i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
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"What's this?" asked Joel, holding up a handful of gold and silver jewellery he had just found hidden in a sock on Sandra's desk. They were at her place, though her housemates were out. He had come over now that her classes were finished for the day; they had made plans to catch a film together later.<br /><br />"Oh that." Sandra had just re-entered the room and she looked at what Joel had found with a sense of dismay. "It's nothing. We should probably go . . ."<br /><br />But Joel didn't move. "I want to know, Sandra."<br /><br />She could never lie to him. "It's just some jewellery," she muttered.<br /><br />"You can't afford this stuff," said Joel flatly. "Where did you get it?"<br /><br />Sandra hesitated before speaking, and when her voice came it was small and whispered. "I stole it."<br /><br />The words were greeted with a cold silence, and Sandra didn't dare to look at Joel's face, afraid of seeing anger there. Only he could make her feel shame like this. Instead, she looked down at her feet like a naughty little girl.<br /><br />"From where?" asked Joel.<br /><br />"A department store."<br /><br />Joel examined the handful of gold and silver. It was all quite cheap stuff, but that wasn't the point. "That was wrong, Sandra."<br /><br />His tone of voice, the anger in his eyes almost made her want to cry. "I'm sorry," she said. "Really Joel, I'm sorry." She turned to leave the room but Joel crossed quickly to her and grabbed her arm.<br /><br />"Wait," he said sternly. "You know I'm not just going to let this slide, Sandra."<br /><br />"What? Look I know it was wrong. I just . . . I just wanted them was all. And I'm sick of not having any money."<br /><br />Joel shook his head. "Not good enough."<br /><br />"Please don't be angry."<br /><br />His voice was quite calm, but she could sense how dissapointed he was, how furious. "You've been bad, Sandra."<br /><br />"It's only a few things. It's not much."<br /><br />But Joel kept hold of her arm. "I don't care. You're going to be punished for this."<br /><br />"Oh . . . but . . ."<br /><br />"No, Sandra. No arguments." He guided her to the middle of her room. "Take off your jeans."<br /><br />"No, wait." Sandra felt a moment of dread along with the shame. "Don't spank me for this. I'm sorry, really."<br /><br />"Tough." Joel glared at her levelly. "You did it, and now you'll be punished for it. Take them off."<br /><br />Sandra hated to be spanked. It wasn't just the pain or the humiliation for it (although the pain was usually very bad), it was also the fact that Joel was angry enough with her to resort to it. More than anything in the world she loved Joel, and it was tough when he was angry with her. He's had call to punish her like this twice before, when she had gotten drunk and behaved badly, but those had been relatively minor offences compared to this. Even then, he had been severe in his punishment; her bottom had remained bruised for days afterwards. Both those incidents were in the past, however. If nothing else, Sandra knew spanking was effective, that it worked for her, made her change her behaviour. That didn't make her hate it any the less. <br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-41745205310788681862012-11-28T09:13:00.001-08:002012-11-28T09:14:06.891-08:00Jess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $0.99 | <b>Available from:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/151825">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 4799 | <b>Category:</b> Incest </div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Blurb:</span></span></b></u></div>
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<i>Nick's half-sister Jess is coming to stay. She's a bright and bubbly eighteen-year-old, and they're quickly good friends. But it doesn't stop there. However wrong it might be, Nick finds himself attracted to Jess. It's an attraction that he tries to bottle up, tries to shut away, but that simply cannot be contained. </i><br />
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<u><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Extract:</span></span></b></u></div>
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We were both sitting around, kind of relaxed. I had one arm layed out along the back of the sofa, so that my hand was right behind her head. On an impulse, I started gently playing with her hair. It's a habit I have whenever I'm with a girl, and so I just started doing it without even thinking.<br />
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"That's nice," said Jess. I stopped at once, but she pouted. "No, come on. Please."<br />
<br />
Well, I figured, it couldn't hurt. I went back to twisting her hair around my fingers, pulling a little. I found her ear and ran a thumb behind it, stroking at the little hairs at the back of her neck. She tilted her head back and gave a pleasurable little moan.<br />
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"Rub my neck?" she said. I ran my hand beneath her hair and gripped her neck. Thin beneath my fingers. I could feel the tendons near her shoulders. I squeezed, gently at first, then increasing the pressure. Her hair danced ticklishly over the back of my hand. "Harder," she said, pleadingly. I complied.<br />
<br />
I listened to her breathe. Slow and deep. I realised that I was hard again, but this time I didn't really mind. I mean, what was so weird about this? She was a girl after all. What was wrong with getting a hard-on while touching a girl, even if she was my half-sister?<br />
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Jess bent forward on the sofa, hands crossed over her knees and chin on her wrists. She flipped her hair forward over her shoulder, exposing her back. I pushed my knuckles in between her shoulders blades and rubbed up and down. I could feel the bumps of her spine, and across them the strap of her bra. I shifted closer and pushed down a little harder. Jess moaned with pleasure. "That's good, Nick."<br />
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I kept on rubbing for a minute, enjoying myself, enjoying the feel of Jess' body. Then she sat up. She flipped her legs up onto the sofa and lay back against me, grabbing my arm as she did so.<br />
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"Nick," she said.<br />
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"What?" I shifted awkwardly. Her change of position had taken me by surprise, and I was keen for her not to feel how hard I was. For a moment she just held my hand in both of hers, and then she put it flat on her stomach.<br />
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"Go on," she said. And so I started rubbing her stomach, round and round in little circles, pressing hard. Her belly was so much softer than her back, so much more give to it. But still she wasn't satisfied. She grabbed my wrist, pushing my hand higher, higher. Up towards her breasts.<br />
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"Jess?" I said. "What are you doing?" Her eyes were shut and I could feel the in and out of every breath she took. I could feel the beat of her heart; it was racing.<br />
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"Just do this, please." Her voice itself was a moan. "Please Nick."<br />
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To be honest, I needed no further encouragement. I was painfully hard already, and the sight of Jess' bra through her t-shirt only made it worse. <br />
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Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910969460309466269.post-31585756219682595412012-11-23T01:00:00.000-08:002012-11-27T14:57:14.985-08:00Sir (Part One)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Price:</b> $0.99 | <b>Available from:</b> <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/151605">Smashwords</a> | <b>Wordcount:</b> 3968 | <b>Categories:</b> Spanking </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Blurb:</span> </b></u></span></div>
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<i>Clare thinks her secret is safe. Her deepest, most shameful secret--a fetish that she's afraid to even mention to her timid boyfriend. Her fantasy seems destined to remain nothing more than idle speculation... until one day her boss calls her into his office and reveals a secret that changes everything...</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>Extract:</b></u></span></span></div>
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"I have two choices, Clare," he said. "The first option is, I could fire you. What do you think of that?"<br />
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"I'm really sorry, sir. I... I never thought..."<br />
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"I asked you a question."<br />
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"I'd... I'd rather not be fired, sir." She could hear the tremble in her voice.<br />
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"Good. Then there's the second option. We could deal with this quietly, just between us. Nobody would have to find out, and you could keep your job. You would have to be... punished of course. But you'd at least get to keep your little secret."<br />
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He sat back in his chair, appraising her, waiting for her to speak. "How would we, um, deal with it quietly?" she asked, almost not daring to hope that she might escape from this with her secret fetish still a secret.<br />
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He stood up and walked slowly around the desk to her. She stayed immobile in her seat, holding her breath, not looking at him but looking at the wall instead. He stood beside her, tall and powerful and frightening.<br />
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"A spanking," he said simply.<br />
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Clare found herself suddenly unable to breathe. She had to force herself to swallow, force air into her lungs. It felt as if there was a fire burning in the pit of her stomach.<br />
<br />
"Sir?"<br />
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"Either you can go and collect your belongings right now and leave, or you can bend over the desk and take a spanking. A long, hard, painful one, mind you, but just a spanking. Then your secret would be safe, and you could go just as before. It's your choice, Clare."<br />
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Her mouth was dry. "But..." She wanted to say that he wasn't allowed, that it was against the rules, but she knew that didn't matter to him. She wanted to leap to her feet and be outraged and threaten to report him, to storm out of the office. But she knew at once that she would do none of these things, because he was going to spank her. She was going to bend over the desk and have him spank her like a little girl. That, more than anything at that exact moment, was what she really, truly wanted.<br />
<br />
But no, she couldn't. Couldn't just let him do that to her. It was wrong. What about David? And what if it got out? It would be a hundred times more humiliating for her colleagues to find out that she had been spanked in the office than to find out she had simply looked up some porn on her phone.<br />
<br />
"Well?" he said, his voice clipped and calm.<br />
<br />
Clare stood up, uncertain, her legs wobbling. She looked from the desk to the door. Her stomach swirled, hot, bright arousal throbbing through her. She thought again of the humiliation she would feel if David of her colleagues found out about her fetish.<br />
<br />
In the end it was no choice at all. She took a step towards the desk and put two trembling hands on its surface.<br />
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<i></i>Klaytonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00583965245276389676noreply@blogger.com0