March 2018 – Spank Me Hard! … Please?

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 27)

March 31, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

I could tell he was not using his full strength. Even so, it was an impressive display of martial prowess. It was enough to make me forget she was actually across my lap, so focused on her red bottom were we. Chester paused and shook his right hand with a rueful glance. “Even with the leather, it stings my palm.” Louisa shook as well, I think with laughter, for her tone was light. “Stings? Sir, you should see it from my vantage point.” He and I chorused in unison, “We are!” then burst into companionable chuckles. “It looks very painful.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 26)

March 30, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

He scooted forward to the edge of his seat; his boots anchored against our bench for stability. His gloved hands prodded and squeezed the bountiful flesh splayed out for his use. SMACK! SMACK! The first blows made her jump and catch her breath with a short squeak. As he liberally peppered her bared globes, I stroked her hair with one hand and the other resting on her bowed back. I avidly watched the milky skin turn steadily darker, a sunset on a hot summer’s evening, when the vivid colors draw your enraptured gaze heavenward. “So that’s how you spank hard!”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 25)

March 29, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

The smoldering sensuality never far beneath my skin roared to life at her words. For once, caution held my tongue in check. I tipped her chin to mine: we communicated for long minutes silently until I was satisfied she was sincere. “On your feet, whipping girl.” My harsh voice lashed the placid air. Our conveyance swayed, Louisa teetered and half fell/was assisted over my knees. Her single layer of dress with a thin shift was yanked above her waist; her plump bottom cringed in anticipation. “Sir?” I addressed Chester. “I apologize for my uncouth behavior earlier and offer this recompense.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 24)

March 25, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

“What do mean, Louisa?” My tone was soft and compassionate. “You know. What you said before. About me being your whipping girl.” I laid my cheek on her rigid shoulder. “Oh, my darling, please forgive me. I was being petulant and naughty.” I kissed her gently. “I did not mean my rash words.” Some of the tension seeped from her frame. “But…” I grasped her face, turning it towards me. “But?” She met my intense gaze briefly, lowering her eyes to speak. “But what if I want it.” She looked back up with a troubled frown. “To be spanked. Fucked.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 23)

March 24, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

Strangers I say, and strangers I meant. We conversed as we nibbled cheese and bread; sipped cider and lemonade. We were awkward; Peacock House hovered over us like the dark storm gathering in the southeast. Before the first splatters of precipitation blew over the manufactory complex, we were snugly settled back in our coach, and headed towards Lower Bumhampton. My earlier rash statement lingered like an overripe pear. “If that’s what want, Ruby, I’ll do it.” Louisa sudden outburst startled both Chester and I. We began to answer, “Wha—”: he deferred to me with studied gesture. I nodded my thanks.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 22)

March 23, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

The buildings were quite impressive. Grimy red brick, ivy growing in wild profusion interspersed with wild roses; the complex stretched along the river and up the hillsides. “This is all yours?” Something fleeting and indecipherable passed over his face before he gave a tight, little smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “This, and multiple others elsewhere in Britain.” I dismissed the shadows in his expression and nattered gaily as we strolled in the copse of above the placid millrace. Reaching a stone outcropping, he snapped out a folded blanket and opened the hamper. We arranged ourselves: a trio of strangers.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 21)

March 22, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

“What?” shrieked Louisa, “I shall not be beaten in your place, Ruby! You are a cruel and wicked mistress.” The driver called out, “We’ve arrived, sir,” saving her from imminent defilement. The rocking motion ceased, Chester lifted me to my feet. I shook out my skirts and plumped back down in my original place next to Louisa, who gave me a murderous stare. As he hopped out, reaching in to snatch the hamper, I squeezed her fingers in warning and winked. “This isn’t over, Ruby,” she hissed in annoyance. I whispered just as he offered his hand, “How about sex?”

It’s not a moral failing

March 21, 2018lurvspanking7 Comments

Two personal posts in a row, it must be something in the air! Actually, this week’s prompt, Sad, for Wicked Wednesday, is very apropos. Even since the clocks moved forward an hour 10 days ago, I’ve been struggling with depression.

There are two definitions of ‘Sad’. ORIGIN: Old English sæd ‘sated, weary,’ also ‘weighty, dense,’ of Germanic origin; related to Dutch zat and German satt, from an Indo-European root shared by Latin satis ‘enough.’ The original meaning was replaced in Middle English by the senses ‘steadfast, firm’ and ‘serious, sober,’ and later ‘sorrowful.’ It also is an abbreviation for “seasonal affective disorder”, which is something many people who grew up in northern latitudes suffer.

For me though, being depressed doesn’t mean sadness. It’s more feeling empty; no emotion, no desire, no cares. Strangely enough though, it doesn’t impact me when I’m working, only when I’m at home; but that is when I have time to write. Which I am not. Writing.

The best expression of how depression feels is in this poem I wrote over a decade ago.

“D is for Depression”

it’s called the blues
not the music
but the soul
crushing despair
despair that grabs hold
and lingers
like a fungus
that grows on the tiles
in the bathroom of hell
you try bleach
you try scrubbing
til your fingers bleed
but it keeps
coming
back
over and over again
it’s called the blues

The Mystery Blogger Award

March 20, 2018lurvspanking1 Comment

This award was Created by Okoto Enigma to highlight blogs that may be less well known.

This badge is courtesy of Anarie Brady, from her blog when she nominated me. I’m not going to nominate anyone however. I know, I’m a rule breaker. If you read this post and want to nominate yourself, go right ahead. 🙂

Anarie’s questions for me:

1. What made you decide to begin a blog?

Back in February, 2006, I started my original blog as a way of bringing attention to a particularly grotesque and abusive situation involving women in the public retail sphere. After a few months, I started writing poetry and fiction. Within six months I started a novel and discovered — much to my amazement — that many of my female readers were spankos. I decided in 2009 to start this blog, Lurv Spanking, but kept it secret from my followers. At one point I had seven blogs; I currently have two active with three private plus one more under my real name. *See question #3 below.

2. Has blogging been an inspirational journey for you?

Short answer: No. What has been inspirational is the many friends — and some lovers — I’ve met along the way. They have encouraged me to write, to express, to embrace my true self and without them, I’d be a poorer man.

3. Do you write under a penname? If so, why?

My penname is Byron Cane. I decided to publish all my spanking and/or erotic fiction under that name. I’ve never linked my real name to spanking and very few readers of this blog know who I am.

4. Does your significant other, friends, and/or family read your blog?

No, no and no. My first blog, yes, yes and yes. Spanking is not something I talk about in real life. Although, I did have a co-worker who was interested in my fiction after he bought my first novel.

5. If you could have 24 hours with any writer, who would it be?

I honestly can’t think of anyone I’d want to spend time with. More than 24-hours, sure, but that’s in the future. I’ve probably read over 30,000 books in my life along with at least that many newspapers and magazines. I love to read, but have never desired to meet the writers.

Three things about myself:

1. I’ve lived in five different states, and have felt earthquakes in each one. No, never been to California. I grew up in Wisconsin. Moved at age 20 to Virginia, then Maryland. At age 22 moved to Massachusetts — where I met my wife — then to Connecticut. At age 36 moved to Florida where we’ve lived ever since. [I’ll be 55 this year.] 🙂

2. I had my first job when I was 12, and joined the wacky, wonderful world of retail sales at 16. 🙄 The most hours I ever worked in a week as a store manager was 110. ‘Nuff said.

3. In November of 2006, I self-actualized as a multiple personality. Up until that time, my entire life was a puzzling mixture of missing memories and a soft-focus dream-like quality of existence. In an instant, everything became sharp and understandable. “So that’s why!” My life made sense. I don’t blog about it here, because I did so ad nauseam for the next year plus on my original blog. The only one of the six of us — besides me — to spin off and blog, was Rose, but she stopped blogging her *two blogs back in 2009, with several attempts over the intervening time, the most recent in 2017. She may start again, but you’ll have to ask her: I’m just the bus driver.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 20)

March 18, 2018lurvspanking2 Comments

I squealed. “If you put your glove back on, sir, you’ll be able to give Ruby a right sound thrashing for her impertinence. I certainly won’t rat you out to Mrs. Cleanknockers.” Louisa sounded so sweetly innocent. “Don’t listen to her, Chester, she just wants to see my bottom turn red.” The leather covered hand he stroked across my upturned cheeks felt as soft as silk. “Do you offer an alternative, Ruby?” I waggled said cheeks, impatient for him to probe deeper into the dark dell. “Well…” My voice was triumphant. “I offer you my handmaiden and whipping girl instead!”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 19)

March 17, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

He fumbled with my voluminous skirts then, with an exasperated command, ordered Louisa to assist in baring my bottom. “But I can’t be spanked!” The carriage swayed as it rounded a corner, and his hands reached out to steady us both. “Why ever not, Ruby?” I craned my neck around trying to express my earnestness. “Mrs. Cleanknockers said that no maid is to be disciplined during her time of the month.” I pleaded with Louisa. “Tell him it’s the truth.” Rather petulantly, I thought, she reluctantly corroborated my explanation. “So you see, Chester, you shan’t spank me today.” He pinched.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 18)

March 16, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

I was yanked from my poignant memory by his serious and thoughtful response. “Rest assured, Ruby, I will not banish you to a red tent every four weeks out of some belief you are unclean. Your cycle is part of the natural order of life.” My heart flipped cartwheels at his declaration. He reached over and clasped my hand. “As my wife, you will be accorded all due respect and courtesy inherent to your position.” The imp perverse couldn’t resist tweaking. “Even when that position is over your knee?” I squawked when he swiftly slung me across his broad lap.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 17)

March 15, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

I smacked her arm as I continued. “—al fresco, but this blasted corset has squashed my liver to paste.” Louisa honked in mirth. “And besides…” I hesitated until he encouraged me to continue. I gazed out the window as I spoke. “I’m… I’m having my monthly.” His inscrutable expression reminded me of when my late mother would play cards, late at night, with some friends of hers. I’d watch from my bed, blanket pulled tightly around my head, as they gossiped and bluffed the hours away, pretending for a short time that the wolf was at someone else’s door.

Now a Major Motion Picture: The Wedding Games

March 14, 2018March 14, 2018lurvspanking11 Comments

From Vladivostok they came
to play a wedding game
a case of vodka the prize
with competitive eyes
they rushed
and they popped
when to everyone’s surprise
up flipped their skirts
the groomsmen smirked
so the bride declared a tie
and ordered them birched
so all they got
for bursting their balloons
was to forfeit the knickers
and abstain from the liquor
but the boyfriends did rise
[to the occasion]
and after the toasts
made the most of the roast
that their girlfriend’s behinds had become

so let that be a lesson
when playing silly games
if the camera is rolling
keep your underwear from showing
and never
ever
piss off the bride

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 16)

March 11, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

“So, where are we taking us, Chester? Are the roads passable?” I sat across from him, facing forward, Louisa at my side. He smiled and nodded. “Yes, to your latter question and, I thought I would show you one of our, my, factories that is fairly close by.” He nudged the hamper on the floor with his foot. “I’ve taken the liberty of procuring some provisions for a light repast, should you be so inclined.” I smiled too, a little ruefully. “Normally, I’d never turn down tea—” Louisa interrupted, “Or a man offering to take liberties with your person.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 15)

March 10, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

He laughed at my faux pas, giving us a hand up, each in turn. “No, dearest one, I shall seize the moment to relinquish the reins… and whip, to instead sacrifice the fresh air and drama of driving for the opportunity to ride inside two beautiful ladies of my recent acquaintance.” His double entendre made us titter like choirgirls. I didn’t know much about carriages or horses, but it had four wheels, an enclosure and a driver who was seemingly impatient to get rolling. Thus began my first liaison; complete with a duenna of dubious worth, as events soon proved.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 14)

March 9, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

The bouquet was lovely. I searched out a vase, my automatic response as servant eliciting a giggle from Louisa and an arched brow from Chester. He deftly inserted conversational remarks about the weather [the geese were happy this morning] my outfit [the colors brought out the highlights in my eyes] Louisa’s ruddy health [such a delightful contrast to fragile porcelain] and with steady social banter, managed to guide both of us to the waiting coach. It was a struggle, but I managed to both keep my feet and wits from stumbling. “Will you be our whip this afternoon?” I blushed.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 13)

March 8, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

I staggered; her words — and my vivid imagination — sent another climax ripping through my pussy. “You won’t be able to walk straight for a week.” Louisa’s laugh was low and evil sounding. “Maybe after he’s done fucking you senseless, I’ll be able to push my entire hand up your creamy cunt and show him how rough you like to be treated.” My groan was pitiful. “Please, Louisa. No more. I’m about to combust.” Saved from likely self-immolation by the dashing bloke himself, who popped to his feet as we entered the front parlor, I managed a wobbly, but credible, curtsy.

Coffee Klatch was never like this

March 7, 2018lurvspanking13 Comments

Vittoria’s screamed plea still rang in Dominic’s ears. Tolling like an iron bell, her emotional outburst combined with her tears broke open a part of his psyche that always made him uncomfortable. The part that liked to hurt her. Even now, even with the anger still bubbling and sensing the compassion with which he held his sobbing wife; even now, he wanted to bend her over and whip her ass. To see and hear the tears flow faster. “I’ll do something,” he murmured. “I promise.” He rocked her gently back-and-forth, crooning a wordless lullaby as she very gradually relaxed with shuddering gasps.

“I’m sorry, Dominic. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.” Vittoria smiled tremulously, wiping her wet lashes. “Forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you, honey.” Dominic leaned in, giving her a deep kiss. “That is, if you make me some fresh coffee.”
She reared back, suddenly confused. “Coffee? At this time of night?”
A slow smile creased his cheeks. A cruel grin in fact. “Are you hard of hearing, Miss Caparelli? I do believe I gave you an order.”

She shuddered, conflicted. The raw memories merged with Dominic’s sneering words. What stayed her biting response though, was a spurt of dampness in her knickers. Closing her eyes, she fought for control.

“Don’t fight me, Miss Caparelli, you’ll regret it.”
“I wasn—” her startled gaze meeting his narrowed stare.
“And don’t lie, or you’ll discover why the secretarial pool calls me The Dastardly Dom.”
Awkwardly, she clambered to her feet, straightening her crumpled jogging pants and brushing out the creases. “Yes, sir. I’ll bring your coffee as quick as I can.” As she left the room, he called out, “And change your clothing, Miss Caparelli, into something more appropriate — and revealing. I like my women sexy and easy.” Her pussy clenched. His misogynistic and leering tone was turning her on. Her shame grew even deeper.

She discarded the pod, watching sightlessly as the brown fluid streamed into the ceramic mug. Like an escalator, her thoughts ran ceaselessly; going up, then down. A cycle of self-recrimination and hatred. The soft beep startled her. The acid churned. She swallowed hard and walked, shuffled back to her husband. Tears sprang anew. How he must loath me now.

Dominic heard her coming, reluctance in every step. How I love her. He put his hands behind his head, the chair reclining as she approached his desk, carefully setting the steaming brew on the blotter.
“Your coffee, sir. Will there be…” He waited as she blinked furiously. “Be anything else?”
He took a sip, watching as she rubbed her hands in apparent nervousness. “Yes, there is.” He kept drinking, expression impassive as he drew out the moment until the tension in her frame seemed ready to snap. “You know I’ve always admired your work, Miss Caparelli.”
“You have?” Vittoria blurted out, then covered her open mouth with both hands.
“Oh yes. I admire a great number of things about your work. You’re punctual, always willing to be a team player and, most importantly…” He set the mug down with a gentle thump.
She bit her lip, eyes peering sideways. “Importantly? Sir?”
He rose to his feet, moving around the desk, perching on the corner. “Most importantly, Miss Caparelli, is your grooming. Impeccable.” Dominic lifted a strand of her long, brunette hair, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger. “You always look good enough to eat.”
“Coffee, tea or me?” Vittoria couldn’t help but giggle.
“Precisely.” He motioned for her to spin.
She felt her heart thump as she obeyed, the pleated hem swishing around her lower thighs, nipples tightening as his eyes caressed her chest.
“So glad to ‘see’ the new dress code leads to perky attitudes.” Dominic stood, going behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I believe this is where we left off, Miss Caparelli.” He squeezed tighter, slipping his fingers onto her upper arms. “I’m sure we can find some mutually satisfying means in which you can compensate for your careless actions… that cost this company money. Do you remember that part?”
She tried not lean back into his embrace, but to play the role of frightened employee desperate to keep her job. “I sorry, sir. I was going it pay it back! I am going to pay it back. I only needed medicine for my sick little brother.”
Fighting back a laugh at her dramatic improv, Dominic reached lower and cupped her breasts over her shirt. “You will pay, Miss Caparelli, believe me.” He gave a throaty chuckle. “Over and over again, you will pay.”

Vittoria whimpered.
Dominic swelled.

With a flourish, he swept the desktop clear — not the half-filled coffee cup, rest assured. “Your recompense, Miss Caparelli, will begin — note; only begin — with a sound spanking. Where we go from there will depend on your compliance to my demands.” He barked, “Is that clear?”
“A spanking?” She smacked her cheeks in wide-eyed horror. “I’ve never been spanked before, sir! I couldn’t possibly bend over your desk!” She belied her protestations by doing just that. “Like this, sir?” looking over her shoulder with brimming eyes.
He hissed softly, adjusted his tight pants, wanting nothing more than to whip up her skirt, yank down her knickers and ram his aching cock deep into her wet depths. The more his wife submitted, the more his beast growled with delight. “Reach back and raise your skirt, Miss Caparelli.”
The tight lace was slowly revealed, molding the toned flesh that called to his hand. “You are such a tease.”
“No I’m not!” she protested. “I’m a good girl! You’re forcing me to do this.”
SMACK! His palm made contact with her bottom. SMACK! “Yes you are.” SMACK! “You’re a tease. Always flaunting your body around me, fucking me with your eyes. I know what bad girls like you need.” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
She cried out as the slaps grew harder and quicker. “Stop! Why are you doing this to me? I don’t want this.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Really? All you have to do is say, red, and I’ll stop.” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “But I bet you don’t want me to stop, because deep down, you’re actually a slut.” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Am I right?”
“Noooooo,” she wailed as he kept whaling. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “I don’t like this.”
Dominic grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her head back as he rubbed her red bottom with the other. “Shall we find out then? Pull your knickers down, Miss Caparelli.” He nipped the base of her neck. “If they’re dry, I’ll let you go, unmolested.”
She moaned as his teeth clamped, sending quivers down her spine. “And if not?”
“If they’re not…” He ran his tongue in a long swipe up to the corner of her mouth. “If — as I suspect — they are sopping wet — you’ll let me whip you with my belt, followed by sucking my cock and then begging for me to take your innocence.” He released her head, pushing it down until her cheek rested on the desk. “Do we have a deal?”

As The Dastardly Dom’s belt belt lashed her jutting buttocks, Vittoria’s hand was a blur as she frigged her swollen clit and wet folds. This was one memory of her boss she’d relive over and over again, this time without shame.

Writing for fun and [hopeful] profit

March 5, 2018March 5, 2018lurvspanking1 Comment

As you know, as Byron Cane, I am participating in Smut Marathon 2018. Until March 10th — next Saturday — you can vote at this link here for the top three stories you like best. What I did was copied and pasted the 62 stories into a Word docx. and by condensing, printed out 15 pages to read later. The results of Round 2 will be announced on Sunday, March 11th along with the names of the 40 writers to advance to Rounds 3 and 4. Please vote, we had a very light turnout last time.

This coming Thursday, March 8th, is International Women’s Day. In honor of that, Sexy Little Pages is publishing their latest anthology, Corrupted. I have the honor of having a short story accepted called, Ghosting Past Emily. You can read more about the story at my other blog with this link. The anthology is currently available for pre-orders through a number of online retail stores via this link here.

If you haven’t explored my blog, there is a page titled: Published fiction available for purchase as Byron Cane. You can follow the links to Amazon and purchase ebook copies of my works.

Coming soon will be another novella, The Witch of Olympus Hollow. I’ll provide links when it is published.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 12)

March 4, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

The thought of Chester nuzzling me down there caused a fresh spurt of moisture. I moaned. “What is he going to think of me?” She patted my bustled behind whispering, after she nipping my earlobe, “He’ll think he’s a dashed lucky cove for having such a randy piece for a fiancée.” She gave me a sharp jab, like an angry goose; my bottom awoke and peered round seeking more pinches. What I got was more teasing. “I can’t wait to see you… flat on your back. Knees pinned to your shoulders and Mr. Jones-Smyth pounding your messy quim into meringue.”

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 11)

March 3, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

It broke on the shore of hedonism. I gave a strangled scream, choked off with held breath as my climax rolled on and on; the white frothy comber sweeping all thought before its relentless power. It wasn’t until we were walking down the last flight of stairs — me on shaky legs and Louisa still licking her chops — that I realized my borrowed silk drawers were missing. Louisa gave me a wink and a nudge. “He’s only got two hours with you, Ruby, I think he should have easier access, don’t you think?” Despite the padding, my thighs were very damp.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 10)

March 2, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

I was proud of my tight purse, the friction growing hotter as she increased her tempo, slamming her palm against my swollen lips with each inward thrust. The slurpy sounds made me aware of how soaked Louisa’s hand must be. For some reason, I felt a brief twinge of embarrassment. That was subsumed with rapture when the straining tips of her nimble fingers rubbed a place deep inside. I instinctively tilted my pelvis, begging as I did so. “Again. Right there. Oh. Oh. Yes. Harder.” Waves of contractions crashed over my nerves, muscles tightened, clamping down as my orgasm crested.

The Bumhampton Chronicles: Chapter 12 (Part 9)

March 1, 2018lurvspankingLeave a comment

Lowering my voice, I hissed with mixed emotions. “I’m bleeding!” A matter-of-fact, “So?” was all she said as Louisa’s nimble tongue followed the path blazed by her sturdy hands. Soon they were working me over in tandem. Muffled snuffles made me giggle, but two slender digits slipping into my slippery pussy made me gasp with surprise. Whatever shame I still felt was soon swept aside by rising lust. This was not a leisurely poke on a lazy afternoon; Louisa was determined to frig me off in a hurry. My clit hardened. My nipples engorged. Tangy musk permeated the room.

“D is for Depression”

it’s called the blues not the music but the soul crushing despair despair that grabs hold and lingers like a fungus that grows on the tiles in the bathroom of hell you try bleach you try scrubbing til your fingers bleed but it keeps coming back over and over again it’s called the blues

it’s called the blues
not the music
but the soul
crushing despair
despair that grabs hold
and lingers
like a fungus
that grows on the tiles
in the bathroom of hell
you try bleach
you try scrubbing
til your fingers bleed
but it keeps
coming
back
over and over again
it’s called the blues