During the next few Wednesdays, I'll be spotlighting the individual stories in Coming to Terms. Why? Well, because all seven of the stories in this domestic discipline anthology are different and wonderful in their own little ways. I'm excited to begin this week with "Spank and Run" by Renee Rose:
"Spank and Run" blurb:
One moment Claire's life was perfectly normal, in a living
alone, vanilla sort of way. In the next, her casita was torn apart in a
burglary, her client (the mayor of her small town) discovered her spanking
implements, and she was over his knee for a bare-bottomed hair brushing! But
despite her overwhelming attraction to Luis Valdez, the tall, handsome
politician who had taken an interest in her backside, Claire doesn't roll that
way. She wants a serious, domestic discipline relationship -- not just erotic
spanky fun. Can she and the mayor come to terms?
excerpt:
The mayor was staring at her with glittering eyes, flexing her leather paddle in an authoritative way that made her knees go weak. His question indicated an understanding of dominant/submissive relationships, which had derailed her embarrassment and sent her rocketing instead to confused wonderment. It appeared Mayor Luis knew his way around a paddle.
And she could not
absorb that information and simultaneously come up with any kind of witty response
to his question. “What do you think?” she managed to choke out, in attempt at
flippancy.
“I think,” he
said slowly with the same intense dark look, “that someone's going to get a
long, hard, bare-bottomed spanking tonight over her personal safety lapse this
evening.”
She swallowed and
licked her lips, feeling her heart pulsing through her entire body, a loud thrumming
that made her feel like she was spinning.
The mayor wanted to spank her.
The doorbell
rang, saving her from answering. She literally sprinted to the door, pulling
out the chair Luis had wedged under the handle and flinging it open.
“I got it,” Luis
said, appearing behind her with his wallet out.
“No, I'm paying,”
she insisted. He was doing her the favor here, after all.
“No arguments,”
he said firmly and her mind shot to the image of him flexing her paddle. He had
already thrust several bills in the face of the delivery girl and she was
pocketing them with a wave of thanks.
She took the
pizza from his hands and carried it to her tiny kitchen. Her belly was a mess
of nerves. Reason had mastered desire and she was giving herself a stern
talking to over the wisdom of getting involved with the mayor. They hardly knew
each other, for one thing. For another, she was not interested in a “play
partner” for her kink. She'd been in a domestic discipline relationship with
her live-in boyfriend when she'd acquired those implements, and she didn't plan
on using them again until she was in the same situation. She knew there were
lots of people who satisfied their interest in spanking by attending parties or
BDSM events, but that wasn't her. She could never bare her butt to a room full
of people, or get spanked by someone who wasn't her committed partner. So just
because she and the mayor shared an…unusual interest…didn't mean she needed to
get involved with him.
She set the pizza
on the table and pulled out two plates. Luis picked up a bottle of red wine on
her counter. “May I open this?”
Oh God. He was
trying to seduce her.
“Sure,” she said,
her voice too high pitched. She would just have to tell him she didn't get
involved with clients.
She pulled out
two wine glasses and her fingers fumbled, dropping one. She jumped back as it shattered
on the floor. “Oh!” she cried and crouched down to pick up the glass. Tossing
the larger shards in the trash, she retrieved a broom and dustpan while the
mayor calmly pulled out another wine glass and poured two glasses of wine. When
she'd cleared the remaining debris, he handed her a glass.
“You're nervous
about your spanking,” he observed in a soft, silky voice.
She tried to
speak, but found her mouth was too dry and no words came to mind. Luis stepped closer
to her and she stumbled back.
“You're not sure
if you're going to let me or not.”
She could feel
her heart beating in the backs of her knees. He took another step closer and
she had nowhere to retreat, already backed against the kitchen counter.
“You want it, and
you don't want it at the same time.” His husky voice was mesmerizing. He took the
wine glass from her hand, set it on the counter and took one more step into
her, his body now pressing against hers, his head bent close to her face. Her
breath was coming in little more than pants now as she stared at him,
immobilized with shock at his bold onslaught.
“You know the
release would do you good,” he coaxed. “You can trust me, Clara.”
He took her hand
and stepped away, tugging her gently to follow. “Come on,” he said. “Don't be afraid.”
The mature part
of her that had planned to shut him down was overpowered by the little girl who
wanted to be called naughty and made to submit. She followed him obediently to
the bedroom, her hand hot and clammy in his larger palm. He sat on the bed and
pulled her gently over his lap. He gave her three hard, slow slaps over her
pants and then slowly peeled her leggings down, thankfully leaving her panties
in place. She could feel the dampness growing between her legs and an insistent
thrum in her pussy.
The fact was, she
wanted a spanking. She was dying for a proper spanking. And there was no one on
earth who seemed more perfect for the job than Mayor Valdez. He was hot,
available and exuded male authority. And to top it off, he actually appeared to
know what he was doing, unlike her ex-boyfriend, who she had pushed into the
whole domestic discipline arrangement and who never really took to leading her.
Oh. The feel of his hand on her bare
skin was so satisfying. He went slowly, allowing the burn to set in before
delivering the next smack, connecting with the place where bottom met thigh
every time.
Though he hadn't
told her what her punishment would be, she found herself counting, sinking into
the methodical rhythm he was setting. She was squirming and kicking from the
pain by the time he reached one hundred and finally stopped to rub her burning
backside. She moaned and was embarrassed to hear a wanton note to her voice.
“How long has it
been since you've been spanked, Claire?” Luis asked softly.
“Two years,” she
squeaked.
He continued to
rub. “Two years,” he mused. “I should go easy on you. Except I think, under the
stressful circumstances, tears could be beneficial.” He stroked the back of her
head and then tugged her hair gently, cuing her to turn her face toward him.
“What do you think?”
It was an
impossible question to answer. Did she want him to spank her to tears? Yes. No.
Absolutely not. The spasm between her
legs said differently.
