Dominance and submission: Through The Door: Part Five – #ASMSG #ROMANCE #SPANKING

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He’d planned to tell her when they sat down to dinner, but when he’d walked in the restaurant door and seen her standing there he felt an overwhelming desire to move softly behind her, lift her hair, and gently kiss the side of her neck. The momentary fantasy had washed over him, leaving him somewhat perplexed; visions like that simply didn’t happen to him.

As they’d settled into the table and he’d attempted to summon the courage to spill the beans, Giorgio had made the comment about staying safe; it had rattled him, and between the two unexpected, unsettling moments, he’d decided to wait until they’d eaten and were sharing coffee and dessert.

But when the time came, again he had to put it off.  Staring at her across the table he knew he absolutely, positively had to kiss her.  He knew it was selfish, he knew it was wrong, but if he told her and she bailed…so for the third time he postponed the inevitable, but now he’d done it, and the moment he’d breathed the words in her ear, he’d felt her recoil.

“You’re a what?” she whispered, stepping back and staring up at him.

“I’m a stuntman,” he repeated.

“Like a, jumping off buildings kind of stuntman?”

“Yep, like that.”

“How tall…I mean, how many stories?”

“Ahh, let’s see,” he sighed, wishing she hadn’t asked, “last week I did a five-story.”

“What? Five stories?”

“It’s really not difficult, and not dangerous, honestly, as long as you fall-“

“Car crashes?” she frowned interrupting him.

“Car crashes, fights, I’m a stuntman, that’s what I do.”

“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t expect…” and as her voice trailed off he could feel her confusion, and the subtle distance that was moving between them.

“I really like you, Belinda. I’d love to see you again.”

“I really like you too. I just…need to process all this.”

“Sure,” he nodded, “sure, I understand.”

“Thanks for a lovely time,” she said softly, a Mona Lisa smile crossing  her lips. “I’ll be in touch, like I said…I just need to…uh…think about all this, and Troy, thanks for telling me.”

Stepping back she opened her car door and climbed inside, and as she started the engine she looked up and gave him a small wave.  As he watched her pull on to the road and disappear into the night, he let out a heavy sigh.

“I guess that’s it,” he muttered. “I’ll just have to wait.”

A swirl of emotions cloaked him as he headed down the block.  He paused in front of shop windows and gazed absently at the merchandise on offer, not because he was interested, but because it was something to do; he felt at odds and somehow the monetary distractions helped.

He’d parked his car down a side street, and as he turned the corner he began to feel resigned.

She’ll either be able to accept it, or she won’t.  I can’t do anything about this. I just have to leave it.

The street was deserted and quiet.  He’d been staring down at the pavement as he’d walked, but as he raised his eyes and looked ahead he saw something that made him stop; squinting in the darkness he could make out a tall figure towering over a much smaller one.  It only took a second for him to determine something was very wrong.

His heart ticked up, and he could feel the adrenalin begin to pump.   Shifting away from the street lamps and hugging the inside of the sidewalk he crept forward, his senses on high alert.  As he neared something glinted, and he paused, zeroing in on what he was sure was a weapon; he was right, and he was relieved; it was a knife. A knife was easy; a gun, not so much.  Shifting his gaze to the victim he saw it was an older woman, possibly elderly, and he felt his anger rise.

You’re probably too terrified to scream or to move.  Don’t worry, you’re going to be just fine. This will be over very soon.

The perpetrator raised the knife, causing the woman to stumble backwards, and arms flailing she fell on to a parked car;  Troy waited, hoping it would trigger the car’s alarm, but her fall was not enough to set it off.  He continued moving forward, and it was only a moment or two before he was close enough to hear the mugger’s voice.

“You don’t do what I say, I’m gonna cut you, I’m gonna cut you good.”

Reaching down Troy picked up a small rock and threw it over the culprit’s head; when it landed the man spun around searching out the source of the noise; it was all the opportunity Troy needed; moving quietly but quickly he was behind the mugger in seconds.

A swift karate chop to the mugger’s forearm elicited a woeful scream, and before the knife had even hit the ground Troy’s arm was around the man’s neck.

“You’re okay ma’am,” he said confidently, staring at the stunned woman’s terrified face. “If you’ve got a cell phone call 911. If you don’t there’s one in my pocket. You don’t have to worry, this guy can’t touch you.”

“Hey man, you’re chokin’ me, lemme go, lemme go,” the mugger gasped as he struggled in vain. “Fuck my arm, you broke my fuckin’ arm.”

“In the famous words of someone you probably never heard of, keep struggling and make my day.”

“What the fuck?” the man growled.

“Ma’am, did you find your phone?”

“Yes, yes, I’m s,sorry, I c,can’t s,seem…t,to s,stop s,shaking.”

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “My name’s Troy, what’s yours?”

The question was designed to snap her mind off the drama, and it worked.

“D,Doris, Doris Handelman.”

“Good to meet you, Doris, now hit 911.”

“Oh, yes, 911.”

It was a small, affluent community, and the police arrived in minutes, sirens blazing; not sure what was happening they approached with guns drawn.

“He saved me,” the woman exclaimed, “Troy, the man holding the other man, he saved me.”

It only took a moment for the police to interpret the scene, and as the mugger was handcuffed and led away, an officer approached Troy and jotted down his contact information.

“Where did you learn how to do that? Not many citizens can take down a guy with a weapon. We advise against it, you know that.”

“I’m a stuntman, martial arts is one of my specialties and-“

“Wait, Troy Berenson, aren’t you the guy who did all the work on Preston Bailey’s films?”

“That’s me,” Troy replied.

“Well no wonder! That guy probably didn’t know what hit him,” the cop declared.

The victim lived nearby, and as the cop continued to chat with Troy about his work, she and her husband cautiously approached.

“Excuse me, I’m Bernie,” the elderly man said, “I’m Doris’s husband, I just want to say thank you. What can we possibly do to repay you. You’re a hero, a real, live hero.”

“You were like someone in one of those movies,” Doris gushed. “You were so brave, and the way you hit his arm!”

It continued for some time, until Troy managed to leave the scene and head home. Stumbling into his house he headed straight to his bedroom, stripped off and collapsed on his bed.

“Well, if I never hear from Belinda again at least something good came out of this,” he muttered. “If I hadn’t gone to dinner, God only knows what might have happened to that poor woman.”

He yawned and stretched and switched out his lamp; moments later, exhausted from the eventful night he was asleep.

At her condo, not far from where the incident happened, Belinda, unable to drift off and watching television, had heard the sirens.  They weren’t an every night occurrence, and when she left her bed and gazed out the window she could see the flashing lights in the distance; they were racing down the main road, and it was clearly more than one car.

Her curiosity only lasted a short time, and when her show ended and she turned out her light, she stared up at the ceiling.

I cannot believe I meet this amazing guy, and he’s a frickin’ stuntman.  I want an insurance salesman, or an accountant, or a banker, someone who goes to work and the worst thing that can happen is a paper cut.  What am I supposed to do? How could I not worry every single day he’s at work? This is not good, this is not good at all.  Please, tell me what to do. God, spirits, the heavens, whoever, whatever, tell me what to do…give me a sign…I can’t figure this one out. Please, I need help!

To Be Continued

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Saturday Spankings – 12/12/2014 – #ASMSG #SATSPANKS #SPANKINGS #ROMANCE

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Please find below an excerpt from

THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS

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http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QNZSMDI

In this romantic BDSM fairy tale, an elite warrior delivers lustful spankings to the deserving bottom of his pampered Princess, while tantalizingly teaching her the joys of the flesh. Princess Lizbett learns that while punishment can be painful, the rewards of surrendering to the arms of a loving Dominant offers not just an ironic sense of freedom, but ultimate pleasure.

(Edited for brevity)

Continuing on from last weeks’ snippet…

“No, Sir, never,” she repeated, “I already-”

Before she could finish his hand began to rain its swats slowly and forcefully upon her upturned, naked cheeks. His rhythm was deliberate, his stinging palm landing blow after blow, covering every part of her backside. She wailed and wriggled but her gyrations were no match for his hold, and when his spanking traveled to the sweet crease where her thighs touched her bottom, her wailing turned to howls for mercy.

Pausing, he stared at her scorched, splotchy skin, and dropping his hand he searched out her breasts to tweak her nipples.

“Ooww, Sir, please, please, I beg you.”

He pinched again, harder.

“OW, OW! ”

“I’m not finished with your very bad bottom,” he growled, “but I will be shortly, then your bad breasts will be next.”

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My Sexy Saturday: 12/12/2014 – #ASMSG #MYSEXYSATURDAY #ROMANCE #SPANKING

Welcome to this weeks,

MY SEXY SATURDAY

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THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS

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“Good morning, Lizbett.”

Her violet eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him.

“Mmm, what a wonderful sight. My warrior.”

It brought a smile to his lips, and in that moment he could almost understand why her father had been so lenient; he could imagine her as a little girl, all eyes and hair, staring up at him innocently...I’m sorry Pappa, I didn’t mean it.

 “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“So well, even if my bottom is still sore and my nugget is starving.”

Laying down next to her he pulled her into his arms inhaling the fragrance of her hair, and relishing the soft yielding of her body.

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Dominance and submission – Through The Door: Part Four – #ASMSG #BDSM #ROMANCE #SPANKING

romantic-dinner

“I’m kind of an old-fashioned guy, and I understand why you want to meet me at the restaurant and it’s fine, as long as you know I’d much rather ring your doorbell.”

“Noted,” she replied.

“I’ll see you there at seven.”

“Yes, you will,” she smiled.

She’d ended the call with her butterflies fluttering, and a few hours later she stood staring at her closet full of clothes, convinced she had absolutely nothing to wear.

“I’m such a stereotype,” she lamented. “Okay, let’s narrow this down. Dress or slacks…dress. Skirt maybe?”

So it continued, until finally satisfied she was dropping her lipstick and brush in her handbag and walking out the door.

Traffic was light and the restaurant wasn’t far. She’d not eaten there before but had been curious; from the outside it looked inviting and she’d been delighted when he’d suggested it.

Hmm, I wonder if this means he doesn’t live too far away, or maybe he chose it because it’s relatively close to the cafe. It doesn’t matter! Lord, I’m so frickin’ nervous.  

Parking was easy, and stepping from the car she discovered the air had the slightest nip, a promise of a dip in the overnight temperature, and she pulled her jacket around her shoulders as she hurried down the short block. Pushing open the door her eyes quickly scanned the room; dimly lit, waiters with bow ties, white tablecloths, booths lining the walls, cozy and warm.

This is perfect. Just what I imagined. 

“Hi there.”

She turned to see his smiling face, and the butterflies proceeded to do the polka. Out of his leather jacket and wearing a grey sports coat and light blue shirt he looked every bit the dream date.

“Hello, Troy. This place is lovely. I’m so glad you suggested it.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

The energy between them was sparkling, and not sure what else to say she was relieved when a dapper looking man strode towards them carrying menus.

“Troy, good to see you. Your table is ready,” he said cordially, and walked them to a corner booth by the window, a choice location.

“How are you? Staying safe?” the host asked as they sat down.

“Yes, good,” Troy replied.

“Giorgio will be right over to take your drink orders, and here is your wine list.”

As Troy took the leather-bound folder and the man moved away, Felicity leaned her head forward.

“Safe? What did he mean, staying safe?”

“Um, I’ll tell you later,” he replied.

She sensed his discomfort, but the moment was quickly forgotten as he ordered a bottle of Meritage, and the smooth red wine helped them both to relax.

“I neglected to tell you how lovely you look,” he smiled as their entrees were placed in front of them. “I should have said so the minute I saw you.”

“Oh, thank you,” she blushed, “and I should have told you as well, that you’re handsome, I mean, you look handsome, very, in that coat. Good grief, now I’m just totally embarrassed.”

He laughed, a full, deep, happy laugh, and she hoped it meant her awkwardness had been charming, not clumsy. Though her dinner was delicious she couldn’t stop thinking how badly she wanted him to hug her, to completely engulf her in his arms. She wanted to dissolve into his chest, and as their empty plates were cleared she prayed he’d take the plunge and kiss her when he walked her to her car.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d love some dessert. Are you game?” he asked.

“Sure, pick something, something really decadent,” she answered rolling her eyes, “and that’s the wine talking. One glass and-“

“and that’s when I get to meet the real Felicity?”

“I’d like to tell you my real name,” she said softly.

“Ah, progress,” he grinned. “I’d like that, and for the record I am Troy.”

“I’d already figured that out,” she said raising her eyebrows. “I don’t think you’d use a fake name with a restaurant host.”

“Oh, right…so, whose company have I enjoyed tonight?”

“Belinda, my name is Belinda,” she smiled.

“Belinda, that’s a kind name, a warm name,” he nodded. “I like it. So, Belinda, let’s see what kind of decadent things they have on this menu.”

He ordered a creamy, chocolate, coconut thing that was insanely rich and very sexy, and when the plate was empty he reached across the table and asked for her hand.

“There’s something I have to tell you about me,” he sighed as he wrapped his fingers around hers, “but it has to wait.”

“Okay,” she said, thinking his hand felt exactly as she’d imagined; dry, warm, protective. His fingers were large and she could imagine them sliding over her body; she could also imagine them slapping her butt.  “Should I be worried? You’re not married, or engaged or something?”

“No, no, of course not,” he said quickly.

“So tell me. Why wait?”

He paused, and made a decision. He knew it was selfish, but…

“I’ll tell you when I say goodbye at your car. Shall we?” he asked, standing up but keeping hold of her hand.

Grabbing her jacket and bag she followed him outside filled with apprehension; the air had kept its promise; it was cold.  Helping her into her coat he put his arm around her shoulders as they headed down the block.

“We’re here,” she said. “I know I’m stating the obvious, but you’ve got me really curious.”

She turned to face him, and as their eyes touched she knew immediately what was about to happen. She heard herself lightly gasp, and when he placed his large hands on either side of her face her heart came to a total and complete stop.

Lowering his lips to hers, lingering his mouth, he kissed her softly and gently, making her stomach flip and her toes curl.  Slowly withdrawing he gazed at her, then taking a deep breath he said,

“Are you ready?”

“Yes…” she breathed. “Please tell me…”

“I…

“Wait!  Will you hug me first?”

Before his arms were even completely around her she was sinking against his chest.

I don’t care what it is, I don’t care. I never want to leave this hug…never…except to feel that kiss again. Ooh, this is absolute heaven. 

“Belinda,” he whispered, “I’m a stuntman.”

 

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Dominance and submission: Through The Door: Part Three: #ASMSG #BDSM #ROMANCE #SPANKING

elow-copy

“I’m not very good at these kinds of meetings,” she blushed.

“That’s a good thing,” he smiled. “I’m not either.”

“A good thing? Why would you say that?”

“Well, it seems to me the only way to get good at something is practice.”

“Ah, you’re right. It would mean you might be a player, and I might be…picky? Difficult?”

“Something,” he chuckled.

“So, uh, where do we start?” she asked, with how dreamy your eyes are? Or maybe, do you like me? If I knew you liked me I might be able to relax a bit.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself, like, maybe, how do you earn a nickel?”

“Ugh, it’s boring, well, not boring exactly, but ordinary.”

“If you’d rather not-“

“Oh, no, it’s not that, it’s like I said it’s boring. I wish I could say I was…I don’t know, a fashion photographer, or maybe an interior decorator, but I can’t. I’m a nurse.”

“A nurse? That’s a noble profession. I can’t imagine being a nurse would be boring.”

“It’s not, actually it’s anything but. I’m a trauma nurse, I work in emergency.”

“Wow. That’s impressive,” he exclaimed. “You must see so much.”

“I do, and to be honest I’ve had enough. You wouldn’t believe some of the stupid things people do in the name of fun, or to make a dollar. I swear if I see one more broken limb, or…never mind, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to get carried away but it’s infuriating. Life is such a gift, and to put it at risk by racing a car, or jumping off a building, oops…sorry…there I go again.  As I said, I’ve had enough. I’m done.  I want to get out of the hospital and do something privately, but I’m not sure what exactly.”

He’d sat there quietly listening…and feeling his heart drop.

“Enough about me. What about you?” she asked eagerly. “Are you in the corporate world? Even dressed in all that leather I can imagine you in a suit.”

“Um, no, definitely not in corporate.”

“Then…?”

“The entertainment business. I’m in the entertainment business.”

“Really? That’s exciting. Are you an actor, director, or do you work behind the scenes.”

“Hard to explain,” he said slowly, wishing her eyes weren’t so luminous, and her teeth weren’t so perfect, and the desire to see her over a dinner table wasn’t filling his head. “I guess you’d say, I’m more than a stand-in or an extra, but not exactly an actor, but let’s talk about something else.  Shall we be really mundane and discuss your favorite movie?”

“If you want. The original Thomas Crown Affair.  Yours?”

“That’s a great movie. The sequel was too, but the happy ending bit…”

“You don’t like happy endings?”

“I don’t have anything against happy endings, but if they’re too pat it can kill a good movie. A happy ending has to be real, and in the sequel couldn’t he have said in that last scene, I’ll spank you, rather than…whatever it was he did say? See, I don’t even remember. I’ll bet everyone would remember if Pierce Brosnan had said to Renee Russo, I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.”

“I think you’re right,” she laughed, though she was blushing too.

“I think the ending of the first Thomas Crown was one of the things that made it so perfect,” he remarked. “At least, for me.”

“I agree. He was so smart, one step ahead of her the whole time.”

“And that worked for you?”

“My favorite scene,” she said wistfully, ignoring his question, “was when they were on the beach at night in front of the fire, and she asked if he’d ever brought anyone else there. Remember? She’d seen the photos of him with that other girl…”

“And Steve McQueen said, hey, she was just a way of putting you in touch with yourself.”

“Oooh, I loved that moment,” she sighed. “That…and the amazing kiss in front of the chess board after he said, let’s play something else and grabbed her by her arms and pulled her to her feet.  Oh, I die every time I watch it. I love those old movies, but those scenes are my two, all-time favorite moments.”

“Great moments,” he agreed.

“Yours?”

“I guess…the last scene of Casablanca.”

“Again with the sad ending,” she remarked.

“Oh, yeah, I hadn’t thought about that.”

For an hour they talked, and laughed, and drank the fabulous coffee and consumed several pastries, and she finally dropped her chin in her hand and looked into his smokey blue eyes.

“I have to go. I have a shift in an hour. I really enjoyed this.”

“I did too,” he smiled, and I really want to see you again, I mean really, because I want to kiss you, I really want to kiss you.

“Walk me to my car?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Standing from the table he gestured her forward, and dropped a covert stare at her lovely curves moving against the seat of her white slacks.

I really want to kiss you, and I really want to spank you…like…really. 

Following her across to the compact, silver BMW, he stood patiently as she fished for her keys in her bag and popped the lock.

“Would you have dinner…I mean, will you have dinner with me? Soon?” God, I sound like I’m seventeen.

 “I’d like that very much,” she replied.

“Can I say something…ungentlemanly?”

“Sure,” she laughed.

“No, better, I’ll text it to you. Don’t start driving until I do. I don’t want to be responsible for you having an accident.”

“Wow…it must be something wicked. Okay, I’ll wait.”

She climbed into her car and watched him in her rear view mirror as he strode to his bike and pulled out his phone. Butterflies dancing she waited, and when her phone chimed, even though she’d been expecting it to, her heart skipped. Opening the message she read: You have a gorgeous ass.

She threw back her head and laughed out loud, then blushing furiously she wrote back: You haven’t seen it yet.

His reply popped up immediately. I like the yet part. I’ll call you soon.

Starting up her peppy car, she drove from the car park with a happy heart and the thrill of his promise running through her veins.

Wow, I can’t believe it. I’m so glad I walked through that door.

Still standing next to his bike, Troy sat on the saddle and shook his head.

Shit. How the hell am I gonna tell her I’m a stuntman? 

 

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THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS – A BDSM Fairytale- Available Now: #ASMSG #BDSM #EROTICA #SPANKING

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THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS

In this romantic BDSM fairy tale, an elite warrior delivers lustful spankings to the deserving bottom of his pampered Princess, while tantalizingly teaching her the joys of the flesh. Princess Lizbett learns that punishment can be painful, but the rewards of surrendering to the arms of a loving Dominant offers not just an ironic sense of freedom, but ultimate pleasure.

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“The days that you issue commands are over,” he admonished. “I shall spank you as you deserve, and if you dare to bark at me again I will keep my promise and remove this thin undergarment.”

Once upon a time, in a lustrous kingdom named Verdana, lived a strong-willed, petulant Princess named Lizbett, the only child of the kingdom’s sovereign monarch, King Handerah. Though the King had attempted to discipline his difficult daughter it proved impossible; her appealing violet eyes would melt his heart, and she’d continue with her willful ways.

As a young woman she had fallen madly in crush with a mysterious young man who was working in the castle stables for the summer. His name was Larian; his hair fell in long shimmering ringlets, and his clear aqua eyes sparkled into hers.

“You are so spoiled,” he’d whispered. “I must leave here soon, but when I am grown I will be back, and then I will teach you many things.”

He kept his promise, but when he returned she was shocked to learn he was from Zanderone, a kingdom of mighty warriors. He had won the title of Warrior Of The First Order, and it soon became clear he was more than man enough to deal with her rash, reckless, and selfish behavior.

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Saturday Spankings – 12/6/2014 – The Warrior and the Petulant Princess #SATSPANKS #SPANKING #BDSM

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Please find below an excerpt from

THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS

Available this weekend at your favorite bookseller.

PetPrincesseBook-11 copy

In this romantic BDSM fairy tale, an elite warrior delivers lustful spankings to the deserving bottom of his pampered Princess, while tantalizingly teaching her the joys of the flesh. Princess Lizbett learns that while punishment can be painful, the rewards of surrendering to the arms of a loving Dominant offers not just an ironic sense of freedom, but ultimate pleasure.

(Edited for brevity)

He had thought the unveiling would be at his home in front of a flaming fireplace, with wine and food nearby, and kisses and fond touches, but her behavior warranted his spanking hand directly upon her skin, and so it would be. Grasping the thin fabric he ripped it apart; her bottom, exposed for the first time, gazed up at him, and he relished the sight, pondering the fading horizontal lines left by the crop the afternoon before.

“I am going to spank you hard, Lizbett, very hard. You will never again question my orders when we are in danger, never!”

“I won’t, I’ve learned,” she cried, “I swear.”

His hand abruptly slapped leaving an instant red imprint, then quickly slapped again causing her to kick out.

“Now you will understand what it means to be punished by a warrior, truly punished. After this you will never again risk life or limb, never again, and I repeat myself because it’s necessary you fully understand, never again!”

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21.

My Sexy Saturday – 12/06/14 – The Warrior and the Petulant Princess – #ASMSG #WARRIOR #SPANKING #ROMANCE

Welcome to this weeks,

MY SEXY SATURDAY

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In keeping with todays theme, please find this whispery sweet snippet from

THE WARRIOR AND THE PETULANT PRINCESS

Available this weekend on Amazon.com

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PetPrincesseBook-11 copy

In this romantic BDSM fairy tale, an elite warrior delivers lustful spankings to the deserving bottom of his pampered Princess, while tantalizingly teaching her the joys of the flesh. Princess Lizbett learns that while punishment can be painful, the rewards held in surrendering to the arms of a loving Dominant offers not just an ironic sense of freedom, but ultimate pleasure.

She pressed even closer against him, curling her head into his shoulder.

“I feel so amazing when your arms are around me. It’s as if nothing can harm me, I feel so safe. I always want you to hold me like this.”

Closing his eyes Larian inhaled her sweet scent, relishing her soft, yielding body as it dissolved into his.

“I shall always be your strength and your protector,” he whispered. “I promise, and you know I always keep my promises.”

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Dominance and submission: Through The Door: Part Two: #ASMSG #ROMANCE #SPANKING

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When Troy left to meet the apparently charming girl who had so shyly, then confidently, responded to his emails, his expectations were in the ‘whatever’ realm.  Though this wasn’t his first foray into the meet and greet scenario it had been a while, and in the past they had almost always ended in disappointment.

The woman in question rarely lived up to the photographs, or he left convinced she had hired a professional writer to craft her emails, but Troy lived life as an optimist, so he jumped on his motorcycle and headed off, taking the long route over the winding canyon roads. Zipping around the corners there was no thought, just the feel of the powerful bike between his legs and the thrill of the ride, but as he slowed for the traffic light at the bottom of the hill, his mind flashed back to the photograph she’d sent him; it was different.

Rather than a glamorous headshot, or a series of photos taken at various times in various places, some calling into question whether it was the same woman reflected in each, it was a single snapshot of a pretty girl with shoulder-length brown hair and a bright smile seated on a blanket on the sand.  Wearing a white T-shirt and red shirts, her windswept hair appeared to have been kissed by the sun; the blonde streaks were haphazard, not artfully applied. She looked spontaneous, fun, completely natural, and she had great legs.

It had been many months since Troy had enjoyed the delectable sight of a woman over his lap, at least, a woman who was sincerely happy to be getting her naked backside slapped.  Sometimes the craving became so intense he felt like a spanking vampire, and though they had tried to please him, his vanilla girlfriends were not convincing.

Finally succumbing, it was with great reluctance he’d perused the, Find Your Spanking Friend website, and after closing out the window several times he gave in to his need, paid the $25 for three months, and created his profile.  The process was painful, but the vampire was thirsty, and so he suffered through it.

Felicity was the only woman he’d contacted, and it was the brevity of her profile that captured his interest; it was almost as barren as his. Under, Occupation, she’d written, Yes.  He’d laughed, because he’d written exactly the same thing.  He’d learned not to spill the beans about his work too soon; people either thought he was nuts, or wanted to hang out with him just because of it. The very last question of the profile asked, What are you looking for?  She’d written, More than friends, which he’d thought was refreshingly honest, and put his, What do you think? to shame, so much so that he’d immediately changed it to, I’m open.

He didn’t know the cafe she’d suggested, but as he saw the quaint bakery sign and the paned windows he was glad he’d come.  He was tired of the sameness of the famous coffee houses, and just the thought of sitting in a place that was personal, and probably had a local following he found immensely appealing.

Jeez, if nothing else maybe I’ve found a new hangout, and I’ll bet they make great cappuccino.

Rolling his bike into the parking lot he found it happily empty and was able to park right in front. It was when he was pulling off his helmet that he thought he glimpsed her at the window, and running his hands through his mass of loose curls he grimaced.

Damn I must look a sight. Why have I been cursed with this wretched mop of hair?

Unzipping the top of the jacket that had seen more rejections and seductions than he could remember, he ambled across the small lane and turned the corner to the door, but as he wrapped his fingers around the handle he suddenly realized he’d fallen out of ‘whatever’ mode.

Okay, weird, but okay. Stop a minute…when you go in don’t just charge over there, it might not even be her.  Stop and look around, make sure. You don’t need to make a total fool of yourself right off the bat!

Psyched up he pushed through the door and purposely looked around before turning to face her. He knew the moment their eyes touched. He started towards her, the ‘whatever’ replaced by a quickening of his pulse. She looked like her picture, exactly like her picture, and when she broke into a toothpaste commercial smile he found himself wondering how it would feel to kiss her.

“Felicity?”

She paused a moment, then nodded her head.

“I am, so then, you’re Troy.”

“Yes,” and if I wasn’t I’d lie. “It’s great to meet you. I’ll just grab some coffee.”

To Be Continued

https://www.amazon.com/author/maggiecarpenter

Dominance and submission: Through The Door: Part One: #ASMSG #BDSM #ROMANCE #SPANKING

coffee_cup_cappuccino_heart

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

It’s just a cup of coffee. No big deal. He doesn’t know my real name, he knows nothing about me, well, not really, except that we share a crazy kink. God, I wish I could stop shaking.

But it wasn’t just a cup of coffee; it was meeting him, for the first time.  The guy with whom she’d exchanged too many emails to count, the guy whose photograph and literary wit had tickled her fancy…and…the guy who had assured he wouldn’t hesitate to spank her if they clicked.

I know it’s why I joined the ‘Find Your Friendly Spanker’ site, but I didn’t think I actually end up agreeing to meet someone. Shit. Am I really going to stay here and do this? Shit.

The truth was, she didn’t want a friendly anything. She wanted to meet someone special, someone who made her stomach do that thing…that thing she hadn’t felt in a very long time, and she still didn’t believe it was possible via a very expensive, small square box.

Summoning the courage to stay,  heart thumping she ordered coffee, her eyes constantly darting across the room every time she heard the jangle of the bell over the door.  She was early, but that was on purpose. She wanted to be settled with her latte when he walked in. No awkward silence standing in line; she couldn’t abide standing in line. Even with friends it made her uncomfortable.

The coffee shop wasn’t a Starbucks, or a Peets, or any kind of chain. It was a neighborhood cafe, a family owned french bakery that had outstanding pastries and the best coffee in town, and it was popular.  She’d counted on the popular part, hoping the company of people milling about would prevent any meaningful conversation, but the stars had not aligned; the place was virtually empty.

Picking up her hot drink she chose a place by the paned windows, and setting her thick mug on the table she sat down, taking a long deep breath.

Get a grip. It’s just a cup of coffee, it’s just a cup of coffee, it’s just a cup of coffee.

Feeling a tad more composed she wrapped her fingers around the sugar jar, tipped it up, and absently watched the white crystals create a hole in the center of the heavy foam.  Slowly stirring she glanced out at the parking lot. A gleaming silver motorbike rolled into a spot, and a tall, leather-clad man climbed off, balanced the heavy machine on its kickstand, and pulled off his helmet.

Good grief, look at him. He’s a walking cover for a romantic spanking novel.

His hair wasn’t long or short, but hit his collar at the back and barely covered his ears;  he ran his fingers through it, and the soft curls seemed to fall perfectly into place.

Why do so many guys have hair like that?  All they have to do is jump in the shower, towel it dry, and hey, presto, perfect.

He unzipped the top half of his jacket, which, she noticed, wasn’t covered in garish studs or chrome, but was wrinkled and worn and sexy as hell, and began walking quickly towards the cafe. As he neared she squinted; he looked vaguely familiar.

Wait, is that him? Can’t be, the guy in the photo had really short hair, unless, maybe, it was taken a while ago.

Her heart began its thumping again, and holding her breath she let her gaze follow him. He turned the corner and walked through the door, tinkling the bell above his head.

Please let it be him, please let it be him, please, please…

She watched as his eyes scanned the room, and when they touched hers he broke into a smile and began ambling towards her.

Shit, dimples, he’s even got dimples.

“Felicity?” he asked

If I wasn’t, I’d lie!

https://www.amazon.com/author/maggiecarpenter

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