K=The Kinky Knight #SpankA2Z #NSFW

A2Z-logo2015

Welcome back to the A to Z blog hop and my challenge to write an original free erotic short for each letter of the alphabet (fair warning, I may skip one or two letters – is that cheating?) The catch is every single sentence must have a least one word in it that starts with that day’s letter.   Anyone else surprised to see me still chugging along without missing a letter (yet)?  I am starting to feel like I’m back in college having to cram for finals over and over every night as I’m trying to stay ahead of the challenge. 🙂

A huge shout out to Christine Hart for editing today’s post. Also, don’t miss the chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card. Check out info at the end of the post.

K is for The Kinky Knight

“Kindly unhand me, sir. I’d rather ride my own horse, Killian, than be cooped up in the carriage with Mrs. Cook.”

Kieran watched the beautiful, but headstrong, Kaitlin Karrington berating the poor driver who was trying to escort her to the luxurious carriage. Lord Karrington, her father, stood next to him shaking his head in defeat.

“I’ve failed as a father, Sir Kieran.   I know it now when ‘tis too late. I spoiled her terribly when I should have been stern. She’s such a lovely and intelligent lass, but she’s run off every possible suitor with her progressive ideas and a tongue that can cut like a knife.   I have no choice but to send her to my kin in Killarney where she can hopefully win a match before she becomes a spinster.”

Kieran chuckled at his friend’s exaggeration. “She’s hardly a spinster, Keagan. She’s one and twenty and all she truly needs is some time over your knee.”

“Aye, but that keen job will fall to her future husband I’m afraid. I know you’re right, and I pray he will find her soon, and that he isn’t a knave who will truly harm her. Please keep her safe on the journey.”

The young Miss Kaitlin continued to complain as the men observed. “You can count on me, but since she has a knack for getting out of hand, how would you have me handle her outbursts on our travels?”

Kieran suddenly felt the keen stare of his friend, making him uncomfortable. He had been caught observing the beauty while entertaining less than pure thoughts of exactly how he’d like to handle one Kaitlin Karrington.   After all, he’d come by the nickname The Kinky Knight honestly and her father knew it.

When the silence stretched out, Kieran turned to find Lord Karrington grinning at him.   “What?”

Silence.

He didn’t need his friend to speak – he already knew where this conversation was going and Kieran was having none of it. “Oh no you don’t, Keagan. I hate to be a killjoy here, but in case you forgot, I’m twelve years her senior and a confirmed bachelor. A kinky bachelor at that.   I’m not the knight you seek.   She will find a proper suitor in Killarney.”

“But none as perfect for her as you, Kieran. I know not why I did not see it before. It’s time you settle down – marry and have kids.   My Kaitlin is a beauty and a good match. She needs you to take her in hand and keep her in check.”

Kieran wanted to knock some sense into his friend, but in truth, he’d found himself dreaming of the naughty lass often the last year.   It had not, however, been of her at their marriage altar, but of her naked on her knees before him, his hands knotted through her long locks pulling her open mouth to his cock.

He shook the thoughts of her kinky kisses from his mind. “Nay, Kaitlin deserves a better man than I. I’ll see her safely to Killarney as I’ve promised and no more.”

The disappointment in his friend’s eyes kicked his conscience, but he reminded himself it was for the best.

An hour later, the party took off on their journey, Kaitlin complaining in the carriage while Kieran took the lead on horseback for their small traveling party.   They were only a few dozen kilometers into the trip when a shriek was heard from inside the carriage.   Kieran rushed back to investigate and arrived just as the door to the carriage swung open and an agitated Kaitlin emerged waiting for someone to assist her to the ground.

When the driver did not move fast enough, she knocked on the open door to get his attention. “Hello – kind sir, I’m waiting.” The words may have been polite, but the tone used kept her impatience obvious.

Kieran pulled his steed next to her. “May I ask what is the cause of our delay, Miss Kaitlin?”

“I forgot the key to my knitting case in my trunk. I simply must retrieve the key if I am to be forced to travel in this boring carriage instead of riding astride Killian.”

“We settled this back at your father’s keep. You are a lady and as such, will ride in the carriage where I know you are safe.”

“I am an excellent equestrian, Sir Kieran. In fact I am better at riding than I am at knitting.” The impatient crossing of her arms across her ample breasts kicked Kieran’s libido into high gear as she taunted him.

“That may be, but Lord Karrington has turned your care over to me and therefore I will decide what you will and won’t do until you are safely delivered to your kin.   Now, get your keister back inside so we can continue on our journey.”

Her look of surprised indignation at being told no for the first time kindled his smoldering desire to take her in hand.   He never should have agreed to this favor for Keagan. The longer his naughty charge stared at him expectantly, the harder it became to kill the thoughts of punishing her bare bottom until it was a kermes red.

“You are a real killjoy, you know that? I demand you let me ride Killian this instant.”

“You demand, Kaitlin?   I have news for you, kitten.   I’m not your father who is going to knuckle under to your every whim.”

“How dare you call me your kitten! That is highly improper and I’m going to inform my uncle the minute we arrive in Killarney that you overstepped your authority.”

“Seriously? By simply using a term of endearment for a young woman whom I’ve known her entire life–who I’ve watched grow from an adorable and charming girl into a snotty, obnoxious woman who is in sore need of a good…”

Kaitlin cut him off. “Why I never… Sir Kieran I demand you return me to my father at once so I may report to him your heavy-handed treatment.”

“Oh kitten, you have no idea how heavy my hand really is and it’s itching right now to show you exactly how I want to handle you.”

The blush creeping into her cheeks told Kieran she knew exactly what he was threatening.   He watched her carefully as she began to knead her hands subconsciously.

Sir Kieran was experienced in the ways of sexual power exchange games, demanding partners who would knuckle under to his dominance, yet he had never cared to play the same games outside of the bedroom.   That changed in that long minute when he pinned her with a keen stare and he watched the beauty grappling with her temptation to submit.   A desire to make Kaitlin his own consumed the knight.

He saw the knowing mischief in her eyes before she opened her mouth to intentionally goad him. “You wouldn’t dare, Sir Kieran.”

He grinned, “Oh kitten, it’s time you learned I never turn down a dare.”

It felt like divine karma when he dismounted his own horse to stride and pluck a screeching Kaitlin from the steps of the carriage and throw her over his shoulder. It was time the little hellion learned a lesson in being a lady and she was going to learn it across his knee.

He spotted the nearby downed oak that offered the perfect bench for the knight to deliver the first punishment to the bare bottom of his future wife. She struggled wildly to free herself from his iron grip, which only kindled his desire to tame her.   A half-dozen well-placed smacks to her clothed ass immediately kept her quiet.

She was draped over his left knee, her head near the ground on one side.   He took a deep breath and lifted the heavy skirt of her gown over her back to expose her knickers.   Kieran snuck his fingers into the slit of her drawers to caress her bare bottom first.   He’d half expected her to kick him away, but was encouraged by her embarrassed groan.

Before he lost himself in her beauty, he proceeded with what he knew needed to be done first and foremost in their relationship.   He pulled her drawers open to bare her bottom to his eyes for the first time, locking his right leg over her own legs to keep her from kicking as he got started.

“Now, kitten, you are about to get your first lesson in how I will be handling you should you continue to act the shrew.   You are a beautiful, intelligent woman who I am certain knows that you’ve been acting like a spoiled brat. I expect it will take you some time to learn to curb your sharp tongue to be the kind wife I know you can be.   Lucky for you, I’m going to enjoy these lessons over my knee almost as much as you’re going to hate them.”

Kaitlin craned her neck to peer up at him from below, a hunger in her eyes he hadn’t expected. “Did you say your wife, Sir Kieran?”

“I did, kitten, if you’ll have me.”   When she didn’t answer, Kieran added, “Perhaps you’d better wait to answer until I’m finished with the lesson.”

His hand kneaded her bare ass before bringing his palm down hard. Once he started, he found it easy to keep up the discipline session.   The feel of her milky skin warming under his hand was like a powder keg for him, igniting his desire to consume her in every way possible. The more she struggled to escape, the tighter Kieran held her and he knew she had to feel his rock hard erection growing under her.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the staff and guards who had been traveling with them to Killarney gathered a respectable distance away to witness their mistress receiving the long overdue spanking.   He couldn’t help but smile when he suspected his friend Lord Karrington had known all along what he was doing when he’d asked Kieran to accompany his daughter on her trip.   He should feel manipulated, but he knew he had needed the knock upside the head to help him wake up to the rare opportunity.

Only when Kaitlin lay limp in her submission, crying out her apologies did he halt her lesson. He lightly caressed her now blistered globes with his knuckles, enjoying her cooing as she calmed.

He helped her right herself, sitting her on the same knee she’d been across before wrapping her in his arms to let her cry on his shoulder. He delivered kisses to her forehead as he pulled the kerchief from his pocket to help her dry the tears from her flushed cheeks.

When she peeked up at him through her thick lashes, he brought his lips to hers in a chaste kiss, forcing himself to kick down his lust.

Placing his knuckle under her chin to raise her to face him, he addressed her rather nervously. “Now I’ll ask again, Kaitlin.   Knowing how I’ll be taking you in hand, will you marry me?”

She faltered, “I need to know… if I say yes… you mean you’ll do that again?”

He grinned. “That was a spanking, and yes kitten, I suspect I’ll do that probably every day in the beginning until you learn I’m not going to put up with your shenanigans. The question is, Kaitlin, can you live with that?”

He hated how vulnerable he suddenly felt knowing his future was in her hands. Kieran knew her father could force her into the match and she’d have no say in the matter.   But the knot in his stomach was confirmation of how important it was to him that Kaitlin came to him voluntarily in spite of, or perhaps because of, the discipline he’d demand.

It was Kaitlin’s turn to grin, a playful smile he hoped to see every day in her eyes. “Sir Kieran, I really am a great equestrian. I demand….”

He didn’t give her a chance to finish her sentence, capturing her lips in the kind of heated kiss a husband claims of his bride.

*****

So what did you think of how Kieran took Kaitlin in hand?  Leave a comment to be entered into the drawing at the end of the month for a chance to win the $10 Amazon (or B&N) gift card.  The more you comment, the better your chances of winning.

Come back Sunday for: L=Lukus’ Lecture  (yes, WIA fans – it’s Lukus and Tiff)

Don’t forget to check out these other talented author’s blogs!

J=Jaded Justice #SpankA2Z #NSFW

A2Z-logo2015

 

Welcome back to the A to Z blog hop and my challenge to write an original free erotic short for each letter of the alphabet (fair warning, I may skip one or two letters – is that cheating?) The catch is every single sentence must have a least one word in it that starts with that day’s letter. I just hope you all will forgive me if I use the same word a few times due to my alphabetical limitations. 🙂  Today I’m bringing you a nice little story of good old fashioned revenge.

A huge shout out to Jennifer Bene for editing today’s post.  Also, don’t miss the chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card. Check out rules at the end of the post.

J is for Jaded Justice

Julia pulled the faux-fur collar of her jacket up around her neck in an attempt to block out the cold January wind. She’d been waiting outside the judicial building over an hour for the jerk to exit. It galled her to stand by and watch the joke of jury members streaming out of the building. Their jovial voices carried across the street as the horde of women congratulated themselves on a job well done.   It made her want to jump in her jeep and run them all over.

The judge came out next. His jezebel mistress joined him as he jumped in his Jaguar and they sped off to points unknown. Julia had investigated Judge Johnson thoroughly during the trial when it became apparent justice was not going to be done. She had enough juice on the good judge to ruin not only his marriage, but also his twenty-five year career on the bench if it came to it.   The judge’s future depended on how the rest of this January night played out.

Finally, just after five, James Jackson himself stepped out onto the courthouse steps. He was joined by his prick of a lawyer. The two jerks looked joyous as they congratulated each other on their triumph over the judge and jury by convincing them that he hadn’t sexually assaulted Julia at last June’s company picnic.

Her memories were jarred back to that night when he’d not only brutally raped her, but he’d taken joy in restraining and belting her until she was reduced to a jumbled mess. And now, just because the asshole was handsome and had enough money to buy a jury, Julia was forced to walk away empty-handed.

She had lost her job first. At her initial report of the owner’s atrocious behavior, the junior HR assistant had been instructed to cut Julia loose without any justification.

Next she’d lost her engagement to Jerry, who had believed the ridiculous rumors that Julia was fired because her long-time affair with James had come to an end.   With her fiancé went their shared apartment and the Jetta he’d given her as an engagement present leaving her to drive an old jalopy of a jeep her brother had lying around.

The court case was supposed to bring her justice, but instead it brought more of the same injustice. Luckily, she realized early on that James Jackson had too much money and power to ever beat him fair and square.

Julia watched the newly acquitted jerk jump in the back of his waiting limo and drive away. She had become so jaded that she had to remember that if all went well, by this time tomorrow, she’d be laying on a beach in Jamaica, her bank account full, and James Jackson would be wishing the jury had left his ass in jail.

She tailed the jet-black car until it pulled into the circle driveway of his spacious home in Jersey City.   She was lucky it wasn’t a gated community, and that James lived alone, or the jig might have been up.   Julia parked the jeep down the street, grabbing the duffle with all the tools she needed, and walked back in time to see the limo driving away.

She boldly walked up the front walk and, before she could lose her nerve, she jabbed the doorbell. Julia’s hand gripped the powerful stun gun nestled in the pocket of her winter jacket.

She jumped with surprise when he opened the door almost immediately. He wore a joyous grin as he recognized his visitor. “Well Julia, baby, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Did you come to congratulate me on my victorious judgment today?”

Her legs felt like jelly. It took him reaching to touch her to jerk her into action.   The powerful stun gun was heavy in her hand as she jutted it out and squeezed the trigger.   A strong electrical jolt coursed through James Jackson’s body as she held the weapon against his bare skin for several seconds until he crumpled to the floor. The frantic look in his eyes was almost justice enough for Julia.   For the first time ever, James wasn’t the one in charge – and he knew it.

Julia had plotted her revenge carefully. She shoved the incapacitated James into the foyer, closing and locking the door. She knew the powerful jolt she’d delivered would only give her about ten minutes, so she wasted no time dragging his limp body across the marble floor into the nearby great room.   She jeered down at him on the trip to his large coffee table – a table very similar to the one the sadist had tied her to before he whipped her.

Just as he started to jostle his arms, she wrestled him face down across the low table, pulling the jute rope from her duffle and quickly securing his arms and legs spread eagle to the four corners.   Julia heaved a sigh of relief having him immobilized, giving her the time she needed to take her jacket off and unpack the tools she brought with her.   She carefully placed the items she’d brought in his line of site just as he’d done to her on that fateful night.

James regained his speech, “You fucking bitch, Julia. You’re going to jail for this.”

A strange calm invaded as she realized the time for indecision was past, and she set her jaw as she moved into action.

The sharp, jagged knife was her first weapon. James’ face filled with fear as she approached him with the jewel-studded blade.   After removing his belt, she went to work cutting every fiber of clothing from his body before jamming the knife back into the duffle. As much as she hated him, she admired the jerk’s athletic body and manly appendage jutting out between his spread legs resting against the table. Despite the electric jolt, his cock was already expanding and Julia found that amusing.

“I see you’re enjoying having our roles reversed, James. What was it you told me in June just after you had me tied and naked?   I think it was ‘you’re gonna just love losing control.’ How’s it feeling so far, you jerk?”

She didn’t wait for his answer before reaching to pull the same jet-black leather belt he had whipped her with from his pile of shredded clothes.     His eyes flashed with recognition of her intention, but to his credit James remained quiet.

Her first strike of his belt against his ass cracked loud in the room and he jerked his body trying to escape. Julia had practiced at home for hours, perfecting her aim so she could deliver the exact justice to her former boss that he had delivered to her that fateful night. He had whipped her just long enough to cover her body from mid-back to knees with welts, stopping in time to ensure no permanent proof of his abuse would remain after he released her the next day.

Julia had no such constraints as she rained the belt on him until he cried out for mercy, jerking his body against the ropes in an attempt to get away.   She didn’t stop until her arm was worn out, leaving his back, ass, and legs crimson.

She picked up the jar of petroleum jelly along with the fat dildo next. That was when James finally broke into a screaming rant as he realized she was reenacting the night of his crime. “Fuck sending you to jail – I’m going to kill you! You’ve lost your mind if you think you’re going to jam that thing inside me.”

She had expected to get great joy from seeing his pain, but Julia’s stomach lurched with disgust as she realized if she sodomized him, she’d be no better than her rapist. As tempting as it was to hear James screaming as she had when he had brutalized her, Julia was more concerned with looking herself in the mirror with peace every day once she got to Jamaica.

With deliberation Julia pulled the last item from her duffle bag. The laptop was already unlocked and ready for James to login to his secret bank account containing the millions he’d stolen from investors.

Julia had found many allies when she was digging up dirt against James. Being a jerk that sexually harassed every woman who worked for him created a lot of enemies. Women who were too afraid to testify were happy to share information that could put him in jail for a long time… that is if the judicial system worked that is. Julia had luckily learned early in life that if she wanted something done, she’d better do it herself.

“Here’s the deal, James. I have enough dirt on you to put you away in jail for the rest of your life. I have files, I have pictures, I have first-hand accounts from Joanna in HR and Jennifer in accounting. They may have been too afraid to testify in a judiciary court, but they’re jumping at the chance to come join me with their cameras for a front row seat as I shove this fat dildo up your ass while you scream like a little jezebel.”

The smug jeer on his face faltered.   Julia taunted him further. “Oh, and did I mention Joanna’s best friend is a journalist? You decide not to cooperate I’ll move to plan B with joy.”

“Just tell me what you want, you fucking bitch.”

Justified anger rose up as she laid it out for him. “What I want is to go back to June and have you not rape and beat me.   What I want is to be marrying my ex-fiancé Jerry next summer instead of losing my job, car, and home.” She paused, trying to contain the jumble of feelings.   Julia continued, “What I’m going to settle for is exactly half of the stolen money you jimmied from your investors into your secret bank account.”

His set jaw disclosed she’d struck gold.   James glared before erupting, “You’ve lost your mind, Julia.”

“No, James, I’m done losing. The justice system may have failed me, but I have my own definition of justice now.   I opened my own offshore account and I even have your jumbled account number so all I need is your password.”   A long minute passed where the jerk weighed his options. Only when Julia moved to pick up the jar of petroleum jelly and started lubing up the thick dildo did James buckle.

“I’m gonna kill you for this, Julia.”

“No, you won’t, James. You’ll realize you should be grateful you aren’t in jail or on the front page of the newspaper with a byline by my journalist friend and you’ll let it go.   I don’t have any more time to jockey around with you so I’ll take that password now.”

It only took five minutes to transfer just over three million dollars into Julia’s brand new fat bank account.   A light-hearted joy consumed her the second she received the confirmation in her personal email account of the successful deposit.

“Well, I’d love to stay and play with you some more, but it’s time I started my journey. Nice doing business with you today, James.”

Julia picked up the waiting stun gun and approached her prey.   The fury in his eyes was quickly doused as she jabbed the gun against the raw stripes across his ass and jolted him full of electricity until he lay limp.   It only took a minute to cut the jute rope holding him down and clean up the scene.

Julia took one last satisfied look at James’ naked and strapped body before turning to start on her new journey. Her jet to Jamaica left in four hours.

*****

I for one am so happy Julia finally got her justice!  Let me know what you thought by leaving a comment.  Each comment will be an entry into a random drawing at the end of the month and I’ll be giving away a $10 gift card.

Come back tomorrow for:  K=The Kinky Knight

Before you go, check out these amazing authors!

 

I=Intimate Interrogation #SpankA2Z #NSFW

A2Z-logo2015

Welcome back to the A to Z blog hop and my challenge to write an original free erotic short for each letter of the alphabet (fair warning, I may skip one or two letters – is that cheating?) The catch is every single sentence must have a least one word in it that starts with that day’s letter. I just hope you all will forgive me if I use the same word a few times due to my alphabetical limitations. 🙂 Don’t miss any of the posts. Sign up on my home page to get alerted when I post a new blog.

A huge shout out to Bruce Stern for editing today’s post. Also, don’t miss the chance to win a $10 Amazon gift card. Check out rules at the end of the post.

CONTENT WARNING: Today’s story has a non-consentual kidnapping with edgy and dark content.   If that doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, you might want to skip today.

I is for Intimate Interrogation

Isabelle rushed through the compact stalls of the crowded Irish market, hoping it was just her imagination that had her panicked at the possible glimpse of Ian in the pressing crowd. Irrational fear gripped her as memories of the massive inventory of guns, ammo and stacks of money invaded her thoughts. Six months before she had inadvertently found the stash in the basement of her boyfriend’s house.   Life hadn’t been the same for Isabelle since.

He had been a guest instructor at her university in Washington D.C. From the instant she literally bumped into Ian in the crowded hallway there was a mutual, instantaneous attraction. He had swept her off her feet from the initially. As their intimate relationship intensified submissive feelings she hadn’t known ignited. An inexperienced innocent eight years his junior, Ian had introduced her to many kinky intimacies inflamed by his desire to dominate her sexually.

While she idolized him, she had hints early on that he was keeping important secrets from her.   She ignored the signs until she saw with her own eyes that stash of what had to be illegal weapons.   The only fortunate thing was that it happened on the last day of the semester.   Afraid to confront him with her findings she lied, telling him she had to go home immediately to care for her ill grandma.

Ian had pursued her, looking for answers about why she left him so abruptly, implying, but not explaining, that she’d regret her decision. Despite her inability to trust him, months later, Isabelle still thought of him constantly. She had fallen in love with him. She wondered if she had made a mistake by not giving him a chance to explain. Instead, she tried ignoring the nagging feeling that there was more to Ian than she knew.

Her move to Ireland as an international exchange student had been a godsend.   For the first few months, she felt safe. Then she realized that when in public she was being watched. She told herself it was paranoia infiltrating her brain, but in the last week she was certain she was being followed. And tonight she felt like she was going insane with her glimpses of Ian in the market thousands of miles from home.

Isabelle stopped again to look around the crowded marketplace. She chided herself for her irrational insanity until he grabbed her from behind, dragging her backwards until a curtain hid them. A cloth was pressed over her mouth and nose and, as she inhaled, the pungent smell of some drug infiltrated her senses.   She felt herself crumbling to the floor as an immense anger consumed her that Ian would drug her. Fear quickly replaced anger when the face of her captor came into focus just before she passed out.

It wasn’t Ian.

*****

All consuming pain first infiltrated Isabella’s brain with her return to consciousness. Every part of her body felt injured­. She was immersed in the kind of excruciating misery that made her want to sell her soul to the devil to make it stop.

Opening her eyes introduced a new level of hell. She snapped her eyes closed, but it was too late–she couldn’t un-see the instruments of torture surrounding her in the dank dungeon.

She focused internally–taking inventory of her predicament.

She was imprisoned, hung by her widespread arms by what felt like rough rope that was cutting into the skin of her wrists. The immense pain in her shoulders and elbows told her she’d been in this position for a while.

The air was infused with the stale stink of piss, sweat and blood. She forced down the gagging reflex to avoid the imminent pain vomiting would add. An icy breeze confirmed her worst fears–she was naked.

The pinch on her nipples impaired her thoughts the most. Forcing her eyes open again she inspected herself, quivering in fear as she took in the ingenious torture scene her captor had invented. It was right out of a horror movie.

Isabelle’s legs were bent at the knee; circles of rope wrapped securely around each thigh/calf combination to make extending her legs an impossibility.   The base of her ample breasts were wrapped tightly in inflexible plastic that cut off circulation, and turned her distended glands into bluish balls of pain. The brutal nipple clamps with spiked clasps latched onto her nips, enhancing the ingenious torture scene.

The only good thing about being suspended by her aching arms was identifying what awaited her below should her captor decide to lower her hanging body. Beneath her open legs was an evil saw horse whose pointed wooden top jutted up towards her exposed private body parts. What felt like a thick dildo extended upwards from the spiked furniture and pierced her pussy, impaling her just enough to ensure she was stretched uncomfortably while keeping her from wiggling herself out of the devious position her captor invented.

His course voice behind her interrupted her misery. “I see you decided to join the party, Isabelle. I’m glad. I have some interesting questions for you.” She couldn’t identify his voice.

“Let me out of here this instant, you asshole!”

“I’d be careful. It doesn’t matter to me how long this takes and truthfully, I prefer interrogating unwilling informants. It’s much more fun to inflict pain. My colleagues and I make bets on how many instruments of torture I’ll need to use to break you. You have information I need, and I’ll get it out of you one way or the other.”

“What is it you think I can tell you? I’m a simple international college student here to study art!”

“Maybe, but you’re also the girlfriend of The Inquisitor.   You’re going to prove invaluable in both information gathering and to lure him here so I can eradicate him once and for all.”

Isabelle gritted out her answer through the pain. “You’re an idiot. You grabbed the wrong woman because I don’t have a boyfriend.”

His evil laugh inflamed her. “That’s right. You were such the innocent you never even knew Ian was living a double life right under your nose. Well surprise–Ian is The Inquisitor, the largest arms dealer in the business. What I need from you first is the password to his offshore accounts in Cayman.”

Isabelle added a broken heart to the misery infiltrating her body. She had hoped Ian had some reasonable explanation for the guns and money she found in his basement. Being an international arms dealer wasn’t what she had in mind.

“I haven’t seen Ian in months! Even when I did he never informed me of his business, and he certainly never shared his computer or passwords with me.”

“That’s too bad–then this is really going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.”

The crack of his implement of torture filled the air before the agony across her bare back registered.   The second whip strike came instantly, igniting her ass.   Her shrieks of pain mingled with the cracks of the continued thrashing to immerse the dungeon in a hellish soundtrack. Isabelle lost count, sobbing inconsolably, as an immense burn consumed her.

She must have passed out from the agony because the icy bucket of water thrown against her back jarred her awake.

“All right, I’m giving you an intermission. You have exactly three minutes to start talking, my little informant, or I’ll be forced to escalate things to the next level.”

Isabelle choked out her answers. “I told you… I don’t know anything… I haven’t seen Ian for six months… I left him to move to Ireland.”

“Ah, I see. Still trying to play the part of an innocent. I especially like to inflict my next set of tortures. Your screams will get my cock rock hard and ready for what comes after our next intermission. Your hot body has me all kinds of inspired. I can’t wait to fuck the same pussy The Inquisitor called his own.”

The sound of a heavy dungeon door opening and three beefy-armed guards invading the space interrupted them. Tears streamed down Isabelle’s cheeks as she wished for death–anything to escape the inhuman agony. Their imposing figures merged with impatient expressions, informing Isabelle the newcomers would only make her situation worse.

Then she heard the sound of a pulley and she felt her body being lowered from the ceiling. The fake cock pushed deeper inside her, impaling her painfully with the weight of her body forcing the instrument of torture to press inside her. Isabelle finally came to a stop when her full weight pressed her pussy lips and clit against the sharp edge of the wooden horse beneath her. Isabelle was frantic with pain, scrambling to pull herself up by her aching arms and crashing back down on her pubic bone hard when her exhausted arms couldn’t hold her weight.

Even in her delirious state, she acknowledged the ingenious scene of her incarceration.   As a wide strap was applied with force across her clamped breasts, she focused internally–remembering the lessons Ian taught her during their intimate sexual encounters. He had instructed her on how to breathe as a submissive through her pain.   A stray thought invaded. Had he been preparing her in case this ever happened? If so, it was inexcusable that he had put her in danger.

The explosive thunder of gunfire infiltrated the small space, bringing a deafening commotion and the smell of intoxicating gases.   Smoke filled the dungeon, irritating her eyes and nose. Over a dozen men in full-body armor and helmets rushed in, machine guns drawn, instantly killing her captors in a bloody firefight.

Were these men here to rescue her or imprison her themselves?

The first man to charge through the door dropped his weapon, rushing to Isabelle’s side to immediately lift her at the waist, taking the pressure off her tortured pussy.   He called out to another gunman to work the pulley so he could lower her inch by inch into his waiting arms. The brush against his rough uniform irritated her open wounds, pulling an involuntary cry from her.

Only when the ropes had been removed from Isabelle’s wrists was she free to collapse into the waiting arms of the uniformed man. He lifted her in his arms as she burst into inconsolable sobs from the mix of relief and lingering pain.   He rushed them out of the smoke filled dungeon, weaving through the interior of what looked like an old Irish castle.

Isabelle was in shock and grateful the masked rescuer was intelligent enough to know she couldn’t yet walk. Circulation returned to her tortured limbs, and the prickling pins itched as blood rushed through her veins.

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Ian’s face emerging from behind the helmet.   Conflicting emotions invaded. Was he the good guy she wanted him to be, or was he The Inquisitor as her captor had called him?   Their eyes connected and she saw the intense concern shining back at her from the man.

He broke their silence, “I’m so sorry I didn’t keep you safe, Isabelle. It was inexcusable for me to involve you in my life while I was on an undercover mission.   I fell in love with you; I selfishly thought I could protect you as I infiltrated the underworld.   You were an innocent, and my irrational arrogance almost got the woman I love killed. Can I hope you’ll be able to forgive me one day?”

The intensity in his eyes told her he spoke the truth. She still had so many questions, but her injuries were overwhelming her again. “How… I mean he said you were The Inquisitor… the head of a crime ring that deals in arms. I saw the guns in your basement. Please don’t lie to me, Ian.”

He reached inside the outside pocket of his uniform pulling out an ID badge identifying him as a member of the Central Intelligence Agency.   “I’m not supposed to tell anyone in my private life what I do for a living. Initially it killed me to keep my profession from you, but then I saw how much danger I was injecting into your life. So I decided if I loved you, I had to let you go.”

Tears glistened in his eyes, helping Isabelle feel better. “How did you know where I was–that I was imprisoned and in danger?”

“We’ve been tailing these idiots for months. We couldn’t figure out why they were in Ireland. When I saw you earlier in the market place I just knew you were their target, and I put together the rescue team. I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you before they imprisoned you.”

“Why are you telling me all of this now, Ian? Won’t you be in trouble?”

“I don’t care about that anymore.  All I care about is getting you back in my life.   I’ll even retire from the intelligence business if you want if that’s what it’ll take to gain your trust again.  What do you say, Izzy – will you move back home with me?”

Memories of better times invaded. She knew she should investigate his story and insure he spoke the truth, but the relief of being safe in his arms pushed all indecision aside.

“I will.”

*****

I know!  This story was different than the last few days.   Still, hoping you enjoyed the dark little tale of Ian and Isabelle.  Leave a comment to be entered in the random drawing at the end of the month for the $10 Amazon card.

Check back tomorrow for:  J=Jaded Justice

Be sure to check out these other talented authors below!

B=The Bratty Bride #SpankA2Z #NSFW

A2Z-logo2015

It’s official. I’ve lost my mind. Not only have I signed up to blog every day this month in the Spanking A to Z blog hop, but as I was contemplating what I’d be blogging about, I came up with this crazy idea that I’m having a lot of fun with. I just hope you all enjoy it too.

In case you missed my A=Angry at the Airport short yesterday, you need to know that I’ve challenged myself to write an erotic short story for each letter of the alphabet. The catch is every single sentence must have a least one word in it that starts with that day’s letter. Take my word for it. This is considerably harder than one would think at first blush, but now that I’ve gotten started and have the stories plotted, I’m having so much fun. I feel the need to apologize to my Passion Series fans, though, since I’m spending my writing time on this instead of tracking down and dealing with Jake in Protecting it All. Forgive me!

Without further adieu, I present B=The Bratty Bride.  A huge shout out to Bruce Stern for agreeing to edit my posts for me this month. I also have an announcement at the end of today’s story for those of you who stick with me to the end.

 B is for The Bratty Bride

Brad never thought he’d be angry with his bride only hours after the beginning of their marriage. But as he watched the love of his life knocking back shots at the bar with several burly friends, his blood started boiling.

Brian, his brother, stood next to him. “Bet you didn’t think you’d have to bust her butt this soon.”

Brian was one of the few who knew how Brad planned to take his beautiful, but naughty, wife in hand.

“Tonight will be a night to remember. Our first fuck as a married couple and her first butt-buster punishment courtesy of a hair brush and my belt.”

“Boy, I’d pay to watch that one.”

“Based on the look Mom gave me when Bridget berated the bellman when we checked into the hotel, she may beat you to the front row seat.”

“Yeah, Dad says he can’t believe you are babying her so much when all she does is bite everyone’s head off.”

Brad balled his fists in frustration at his family’s observations. He believed they meant well. Still, he knew he had to break his new wife of her bratty habits before she turned into a full-out spoiled bitch.

By eleven, the ballroom was thinning out while his beautiful bride boogied her bodacious booty with her best friends on the dance floor, oblivious to the emanate danger said booty was in as soon as they got to their bridal suite. His balls tightened at the thought of disciplining his naughty bride on their wedding night just before sinking his cock into her tight body.

Brad made his way to her band of friends, breaking through the line of dancers to pull Bridget into his arms. His voice bellowed to be heard over the band playing a bad cover of Boston’s Rock N Roll Band. “Time to head up to bed, baby.”

“But Bradley, I’m not ready to leave yet.” He hated the way her words slurred as she tried to focus her alcohol-blurred vision on her bridegroom.

Brad wrapped his arm around her body, pulling her close and moving her off the dance floor. She buried her bare feet into the carpet to try to delay, but he’d have none of it. They paused to relay their good-byes to the remaining guests while Bridget brushed her body against his in a brazen display of horniness.

By the time they were in their suite, Bridget was wilting. He considered waiting until morning, but knew he needed to begin their marriage on the right foot. He pulled her against his chest, brushing her cheek as he lost himself in the brown eyes he loved so much.

Brad hardened his heart and grasped her long blonde hair, angling her face so she couldn’t back away. “I warned you not to drink too many alcoholic beverages tonight, baby. You were barking orders and acting like a bratty bitch most of the night. That’s not how the new Mrs. Breckenridge is supposed to behave.”

Her eyes bore into his, angry at first, but filling with apprehension as she held so still, not even daring to blink.   “But, it was my wedding night.”

“Yes, and it’s mine too, baby. Remember what we agreed to before we planned the wedding? Who is the head of our brand new household?”

She blushed, but answered, “You are, but…”

“No but, baby. Didn’t you believe me when we agreed before our wedding to our rules and consequences?”

Her voice broke with emotion as she replied with a whisper. “I believed you, but…” Bridget’s voice trailed away, but the look in her eyes told him she’d been testing him.

Brad exhaled a relieved breath, understanding that either consciously or subconsciously; his bride had put this punishment into motion. He needed to blister her bottom.

“Baby, you broke almost every rule, so tonight your butt will be introduced to the wooden hair brush right before I belt your bottom until I believe you really do understand.”

“But… oh, god…”

Brad wasted no more time. He unzipped her bridal gown with one hand while his other pinched his wife’s breast through her bridal lingerie. Between her sexual excitement and her husband’s promise of a stern punishment, her breaths quickened.   Her gown fell to the beige carpet as he pulled her towards the king bed.

“Keep the bra, stockings and heels on, but lose the panties. I want your bottom bare.”

His bride who had been nothing but boorish most of the night was surprisingly pliant as she bared her ass. All it took was a brush against her back to have her bent across the end of the big bed, her bottom pushed out at attention. Brad couldn’t be more surprised by his wife’s easy acceptance of his new control.

He grabbed the paddle hair brush he bought with this exact purpose in mind. Next, he reached for his buckle, slipping his belt through the tuxedo pant loops, placing it right before his wife’s face so she could see what lay ahead. He caught her sharp intake of breath as he rubbed her buttocks tenderly.

He began her first lesson strong and steady, bringing the large brush down into the center of each butt cheek with a bold thud. It only took a few hard connections to bring a blush to Bridget’s bobbing bottom.   She tried to bolt upright to escape, but he held her down by pressing the base of her bare back. Her arched back pushed her wiggling butt up higher.

Brad felt his own cock growing tight in his boxer briefs as he took his wife in hand. The stress building up to their big day had brought out the brattiness in Bridget. Perhaps he should have busted her butt weeks ago, but he had wanted to wait until they were married.

The wood of the brush connected over and over, bringing her bottom to a rosy red, matching her tear stained cheeks. By the time he had laid down one-hundred steady brushstrokes, his bride was begging him to stop.

“Please, Brad. I’ll be a good girl,” she bawled.

“Baby, I know you will be, because the alternative is to walk around with a blistered butt all the time.” He paused long enough to lay the brush on the bedspread and pick up the wide leather belt his father gave him as a wedding gift. It had come with his father’s advice to apply it regularly to his bride’s bottom for a well-balanced home and marriage.

He was so proud of Bridget. He had worried she would balk at following through with domestic discipline.   Her butt bounced around as leather connected with flesh leaving a beautiful glow in its wake. Her begging for him to stop ended, replaced with forlorn sobs bordering on blubbering. Her tears tugged at his heartstrings, yet the glistening wetness of her pussy bore the signs of her arousal.

Brad threw down the belt after ten lashes. He saw evidence of slight bruising. His wayward bride may have been bratty, but she certainly hadn’t earned a belting that severe… yet. What she had earned was her husband’s cock buried deep in her body.

Divesting himself of his bridegroom clothing, Brad stood naked, stroking his cock slowly to savor the view of Bridget dripping, ready for him without so much as a touch to her nub. He gently brushed her warm skin to comfort her.

When her tears turned to moans of pleasure, Brad lifted her knees to the bed, lifting her higher and spreading her wide. She balled her fists against the bedspread, preparing to be taken.

Brad’s swift insertion linked the now married couple in the most intimate way.   He expected their first time as a married couple would be slow lovemaking, but this was anything but. He grabbed her hips, pulling her body back hard against him as he thrust forward again and again, each insertion deeper in the core of her body. His wife came unglued beneath him.

“Oh my god, that’s it, baby. Ride me! Bury yourself deep inside me so I can come!”

He felt her core contracting around him as she let the bliss of her first orgasm as a married woman claim her.   Her shuddering cry of his name had Brad following closely behind her as he shot his bounteous load of white cum inside Bridget’s body.

Only after his cock deflated did he begin to stir. He had her stay while he went to the bathroom, bringing back a warm washcloth to wipe his bride clean before sweeping her into his arms to relocate them under the covers for their much-needed rest.

Just before he dozed off, his wife in his arms, Bradley heard Bridget’s adorable words. “I’m sorry I was a brat these last few weeks, but if being bratty gets me tonight’s treatment, you’d better beware.”

He chuckled, pulling her closer to his bare chest. “Baby, you don’t have to be a brat to be taken in hand. I promise to attend to this beautiful bottom every day for the rest of our lives.”

*****

So what d’ya think?  I love comments so I’ve decided to give away a $10 Amazon (or B&N) gift card at the end of the month to one lucky winner.  All you need to do to be entered to win is to leave a comment.  The more posts you read and comment on this month, the better your chances of winning as I’ll enter you for each comment.   If you haven’t signed up for my New Release Newsletter yet, you can have another chance to win by signing up for that as well.

Don’t miss tomorrow’s short: Chastised by her Cowboy

Be sure to check out these other awesome posts:

 

A=Angry at the Airport #SpankA2Z #NSFW

A2Z-logo2015

It’s official.  I’ve lost my mind.  Not only have I signed up to blog every day this month in the Spanking A to Z blog hop, but as I was contemplating what I’d be blogging about, I came up with this crazy idea that I’m having a lot of fun with.  I just hope you all enjoy it too.

Rather than blogging about an A word, I’ve challenged myself to write an erotic short story for each letter of the alphabet.  The catch is every single sentence must have a least one word in it that starts with that day’s letter.   Take my word for it.  This is considerably harder than one would think at first blush, but now that I’ve gotten started and have the stories plotted, I’m having so much fun.   I feel the need to apologize to my Passion Series fans, though, since I’m spending my writing time on this instead of tracking down and dealing with Jake in Protecting it All.  Forgive me!

Without further adieu, I present my first of what I hope will be many entertaining free erotic shorts this month.  A huge shout out to Bruce Stern for agreeing to edit my posts for me this month.   I also have an announcement at the end of today’s story for those of you who stick with me to the end.

A is for Angry at the Airport

“I’m calling my attorney. They can’t avoid our departure any longer! My head is aching.” Angela crossed her arms across her ample chest in a show of agitation.

Andrew had just about had enough of his wife’s anger. He wasn’t actually having fun stuck at the airport either. They had left Atlanta early that morning in hopes of arriving in Arizona by early afternoon, but airplane issues had grounded them in Albuquerque for an annoying delay.

“Alright, Ange. Getting anxious isn’t going to solve anything.”

“I’m not anxious. I’m aggravated. We should have been at Aunt Allison’s hours ago.” The additional passengers stuck in the gate’s waiting area pressed against his wife eliciting an abrupt squeal from the beautiful auburn-haired woman.   All eyes stared at them.

He squeezed her arm as a warning, lowering his voice. “That’s all I’m going to take, young lady. I expect you to act like an adult. I’m sure the airline employees are doing the best they can to resolve the issue.

“I absolutely doubt it. That one there was a complete asshole when he announced the latest delay.”

At least her eyes widened in alarm as she acknowledged her vulgar language. Andrew’s grip anchored her against his hard chest. Angela finally allowed the angst to slip from her face.   Her continued atrocious language was the final assault to his patience.

Andrew leaned almost close enough to touch her ear. “Pick up your attache and follow me, quietly.”

“But… Andrew…” Her eyes shone with her unspoken apology, but he abandoned any thought of letting her get away with her continued anger. He knew exactly what action he needed to take.

“Now… at once.   Be glad I’m going to make sure we’re alone before I assault that ass of yours.   That one alcoholic beverage you had is amplifying your awful judgment.”

His wife’s hand was aquiver with apprehension as she acknowledged she had finally stepped across the line of acceptable behavior.   As other airline passengers waited at the gate, Andrew dragged Angela away.   Approaching the large unisex washroom just being vacated by two adults, his wife abruptly stopped.

“Angela, I expect you to accept your punishment.”

“But, there are so many others in the area. It’s not appropriate.”

“I’m your Dom and I decide what is appropriate. Right now that means your ass needs my immediate attention.”

Andrew smiled at her adorable blush as he led them into the alcove and locked the door to provide them visual privacy.

“All right, I want your pants and panties around your ankles.”

Angela looked apprehensive as she slowly acquiesced to her husband’s order.   Andrew pulled her towards the sink, angling her body so he had complete access to his favorite body part. Angie had an apple shaped bottom that never failed to arouse his manly appendage. His jeans squeezed his anatomy uncomfortably as he reached into his duffle to pull out her punishment anal plug along with the fire-hot ass-cream he carried around for quiet discipline activities.

She shook with anxiety as he instructed her. “Always hold the sink until I give you the all-clear. Agreed?”

“Agreed… sir.”

As he lubed the oversized plug with Aspercream heat rub, he took in the sight of the tight ring of her asshole. He couldn’t help but feel aroused as the aroma of her own sexual arousal wafted into the air.   They had been married a long time and he was aware she often antagonized him on purpose to amplify their power exchange dynamics.   That suited Andrew.

He slipped the slick tip of the anal plug across Angela’s rosebud until she wiggled her ass wildly. Her back arched and her bottom flayed in an attempt to escape as Andrew held her waist against his body. He assaulted her puckered hole with one swift insertion of the hard sex-toy deep in her ass.   Her anguished grunt told him his aim was true and her bowels were being bathed in what he liked to call his attitude adjustment cream.

Within a minute, Angela’s moans turned to whimpers.   He suspected the unforgiving toy would be more than enough to keep her attention on improving her behavior, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

“Step aside now and grab onto your ankles. Don’t let go until I tell you to, angel.”

Her apologies started anew. “I said I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Maybe your are… maybe not, but I assure you that you will be apologetic for many hours to come. Grab your ankles, Angela.”

He approached her as he unbuckled his leather belt. He heard her anxious breath as adrenalin coursed through his body as he prepared to discipline his wayward angel. Her agonizing moans told him the attitude adjustment cream was working internally. His belt would attend to her exterior anatomy.

The first strike landed across the swell of her ass, pressing the offending plug deeper, dragging an aching squeak from her. Andrew laid an additional five lashes in quick succession, not allowing his wife to get acclimated to the pain before the next strike arrived. By the time he finished the abbreviated punishment, Angela was chanting her apologies.

“Ouchie… I’m so ashamed of myself, sir. Please, all of the people passing by are going to hear us!”

He adjusted his angle to deliver one final full-force assault as his apologetic angel broke into a sob. The cherry stripes across her ass enhanced his desire to aggressively plunge into her aching pussy.

The announcement over the speaker advising them their flight was now boarding aborted his plan to ravage her. Instead, he helped her right herself, held her in his arms and delivered aftercare in the form of sweet kisses across her shoulder and up her neck. He felt her quiver in his arms as she finally acted like the altruistic young woman he loved with all his heart.

“All right, I trust you’ll behave after that little reminder. Let’s go so we can get to Aunt Allison’s. I’ll help you remove the attitude adjuster just after I have my way with your adorable body.”

Her groan betrayed her excitement at being taken in hand by her Dom and husband.

They left the private area hand-in-hand, arriving at the gate just in time to board their airplane. As they were about to take off Angela leaned in to apologize one final time to her husband.

“I really am sorry, Andy. I’m going to keep apologizing until you agree to take this thing out of my ass.” Her eyes shone with anxiety and agony brought on my the burning punishment going to work on her anatomy. “Any idea when that might me?”

Andrew stroked her arm lovingly as he whispered. “Just after I attend to your pussy.”

****

So what d’ya think?  I love comments so I’ve decided to give away a $10 Amazon (or B&N) gift card at the end of the month to one lucky winner.  All you need to do to be entered to win is to leave a comment.  The more posts you read and comment on, the better your chances of winning as I’ll enter you for each comment.   If you haven’t signed up for my New Release Newsletter yet, you can have another chance to win by signing up for that as well.

Don’t miss tomorrow’s short: The Bratty Bride

Be sure to check out these other awesome posts:

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