Were Warriors Lusty Quest

So—a toad, a frog and a gecko hop into a tavern.

“I don’t understand any of this!”
“What’s the matter, Frank?”
“Why is called breaking camp? Or for that matter, dawn broke? How can you break the sun?”
“Don’t be such a dickweed, it’s a figure of speech.”
“Fuck you, Tabbart, I was asking George.”
“Guys. Take a chill—no, don’t make me uncoil my orc-hide whip before coffee. Frank, it’s called breaking camp because you literally ‘break’ apart whatever structure or space you utilized. As for the sun, I haven’t a fucking clue. Ask a nature mage when we get to Breedsopolis.”
“And that’s another thing—” Tabbart and George groaned in unison as Frank launched into his well-practiced diatribe. “—Why do we have to be the trio sent to retrieve the magic crown and kiss some Royal ass? I mean—I like rimming as much as the next guy, but it’s a pure human Princess for crying out loud! Doesn’t anybody read the damn union regs? We’re gay weres. We don’t do females—any way shape or format.”
George coughed over his remark, “Says you,” before forcefully speaking up. “That’s enough croaking, Frank—and don’t flap your gills either, Tabbart. The bosses put me in charge, and I’m tired of you both butting heads. The next frog, or toad, that cheeps out of line, gets my whip and my head up your ass for a fucking you won’t soon forget. Now! Break camp and let’s hop on out of here before the sun drives us underwater!”
“But—”
Frank’s whiny complaint was cut off when Tabbart flipped him over his knee and began—what by now had become a daily ritual—spanking the croaking were. “Why are you such a brat every morning?”
“Ow! Not so hard!”
“Why can’t you just drink coffee like George does?”
“Cause only a spanking gets me wired?”
“Smart ass! I’ll show you a smarting ass, Frank!” Tabbart punctuated his scolding with rapid flutters of his leathery webbed hands. The green skin of Frank’s wiggly-jiggly bottom gradually took on a pale yellow tinge as the hard spanks accumulated. It wasn’t the only hard thing in camp, and Frank atoned to his lover with his mouth after Tabbart was finally satisfied with the punishment.

Twenty minutes later, the fearless—if feckless trio—resumed the much delayed, and debated, journey from Rephibton. They’d set out two weeks past, but thanks to the ongoing drought, were forced to seek frequent water breaks. Even in an upright bipedal shape, the most charitable of observers would have called them, ‘strong in characteristics but handsomely challenged’. There wasn’t normally much traffic along the forest track, but they didn’t seek out company either. It was a secret mission after all.

On the other webbed foot, orcs were always fair game. When waves of slavers had burst forth from hidden tunnels, the warriors had sprung into action and smashed the raid; thus earning them the gratitude of an entire nearby village impressed with their martial prowess. Until they found out that is, the doughty men preferred the muscular militia instead of the blushing maidens. It could have gotten ugly. Thankfully, the Local 369 smoothed things over with an increased share of the gold gleaned from the battlefield.

That was yet another thing Frank bitched about. He was trying to save for a deluxe pad to get away from his sister’s tadpoles. Being a werefrog wasn’t all that great when the exotic lands the recruiter promised, were, for the most part, human hovels and rogue were hideouts. Then, to top it all off, George, a lowly weregecko, was promoted to major and given the assignment instead of the traditional Frogmaster. Fine, Frank had acknowledged, both he and Tabbart were only enlisted corporals, but still! The warts festered until they broke in a torrent of complaints.
“Travel! Booty! Free beer! I can’t believe I fell for that spiel,” Frank whined.
“He wasn’t lying about the combat part,” Tabbart replied.
“True dat.” Frank puffed out his throat pouch—strangely attractive in his humanoid guise. “I kicked that one orc right over a tree, and stomped the rest to paste.”
Tabbart batted his eyes and crooned, “Oh… My hero!”
“Knock it off, you know I’ll always belong to you.”
“Maybe you can prove it to me later, big boy,” Tabbart crooned.
George slid between them and linked arms. “You know, before this quest, I never considered taking a werefrog or weretoad as a lover. I would have sooner if I’d realized what a pair of kinky fucks you are.”
Frank and Tabbart shivered in unison. “Does that mean you’ll whip us? And spank us? And make us suck cock and be ass fucked?” Frank asked with an eager expression.
The taller and more slender weregecko, wrapped his arms around the broad shouldered soldiers, and squeezed with deceptive strength. His long and narrow sticky tongue flicked across their lips; quickly joined by the rounded, blunt tongues of both the other men. George sprang straight into the air, did a double forward tuck, and landed on all fours in front of Tabbart and Frank.
“I’ve a better idea, boys, why don’t you whip out your cocks, and I’ll show you how a weregecko swallows.”
Two cocks, one a green spade, the other a gold scepter; rose in unison seeking the fresh air and dappled shade drifting through the dense forest canopy. The loose tunics were brushed aside as they freed the thick erect flesh.
Stroking with his hands, George licked back and forth between the rounded heads then pressed them together. Unhinged his lower jaw, he guided both cocks into his salivating mouth and down his vibrating gullet.
Frank and Tabbart made a simultaneous, “Gurk!” and slipped their arms around each other’s waists for support. Their muscular thighs quivered like waves in a bog as the weregecko used sonic gargles to massage and suck the cocks in his throat.
Despite having come earlier, Tabbart felt the rising sap ready to boil over, while Frank—always quick on the trigger—clenched his butt as his cock started to pulse and eject fluid.
George pulled back as the first waves of cum splashed and pumped the swelled organs with his curled fists.
Their suddenly weak legs gave way and the two corporals slumped to the ground, drained of both sperm and conflict.
That, my mighty warriors, is how a real were disciplines his subordinates.”

“Oh my! Bravo I say! Bravo!”
The echoes from the unfamiliar high-pitched voice hadn’t yet faded by the time the weres showed why they were such fearsome fighters.
From lethargic post-orgasmic haze, to dual arrows shot from crossbows took but an instant. In the next blink, Frank was a seven-foot tall frog bounding into the woods as the strange voice yelled out, “Ffffffffuck!” and fell through a nearby tree with a great crashing of limbs and leaves.
The clang of steel on steel rang out, and a short slender figure dressed in a subtle brown and green weave raced through the clearing, pursued by the sword wielding frog.
A sharp crack and George’s orc-hide whip snacked around the fleeing assailant’s ankles bringing it down with a thump and puff of detritus. A single tug of the whip handle brought the captive sprawling at his feet.
George casually kicked the long knife away. “Well, well,” he laughed, “they make spies younger each year!”
“I am not a spy!” the cloaked figure glared up at him. “I was simply minding my own business when the three of you decided to go all kinky. You didn’t even check your perimeter first! I could have been an orc, or… or a cave troll!”
“Look, kid.”
“I’m not a kid! I’m 234 in elvish years. Let me go! Or I’ll… I’ll put a spell on you and you’ll be stuck as humans!”
“What do you want to do, boss?” Tabbart asked with a worried frown. “I’ve heard elves can hypnotize you and make you bark like a dog.”
“As if I’d waste my time on you toad face. You better let me go before the rest of my squad gets here. They’ll turn you into pincushions.”
George stroked his chin for a moment then jerked up on the slack whip.
Squawking as the forceful yank spun it around several times clear of the ground, the elf let out an ‘oof’ as it landed on its stomach. Spitting dirt, the elf said, “Very funny.” Standing up and brushing off leaves and twigs, the next request surprised all of the weres. “So, can I go with you?”
“What?” Rang three shocked voices.
“You’re obviously trying to be incognito, and who better to serve as a native guide than an elf? I’ll only charge a gold crown a day. I’m feeling magnanimous and will accept your apology for attacking me.”
“Kid—we’re on a holy mission. We form the sacred triangle—”
“—isn’t that triumvirate?” Frank interrupted.
“—of power essential to all quests,” George smoothly finished. “Adding you to the alchemy would create a quad—”
“—you mean quartet,” Tabbart insisted.
“—and everyone knows,” George glared at his soldiers, “four of anything is unstable and verboten. Besides, a quartet is a mini-musicale (I hear humans are batty for that kind of stuff). A quad is Will-O’-Wisp Magic. Very dangerous stuff.”
“I can cook, and clean, and transcribe your epic Saga in real-time, and even darn your socks!”
“What a minute! That’s women’s work.”
“Is not! I’m fully qualified as a trans elf identifying as male for purposes of the centennial census. I’m traveling to Breedsopolis to have hippo-suction and meet with a Gender Wizard to pick new genitalia from the Guild’s Catalogue of Unusual Organs.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“Frank!”
“Well I don’t. What’s the difference between a wizard, a mage, a sorcerer, a warlock, a magician and how many other types there are? And aren’t sexes fixed at birth?”
“Are you pulling the gender card of wands on me, frog face? I’m twice the elf you are—or will be. I don’t know what you funky bastards get up to out there in the dismal swamps, but here in civilized climes, people don’t go around making waves about gender orientation and ethnicity. Capisce?”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

An arresting figure

This week for Wicked Wednesday, the prompt is ‘the arrest’. Corporal punishment and arrests have a long turbulent history that continues even today in many countries. The meme of a spanking by an officer of the law is a staple of spanking fiction. I’ve written several myself. The Perfect Costume is an erotic role play at Halloween that I posted Nov 1st, 2009. Another one is called Submission is about trust and was posted Sept 25th, 2009. The last one was When spanking meets the green-eyed monster posted on Sept 27th, 2009. The problem is for me, does writing about this topic validate the abuse of power that occurs all too frequently by law enforcement on a worldwide basis?

An interesting sidebar: I am currently reading How The Post Office Created America, and in chapter two, the author describes the penalties for stealing mail. The Post Office Act of 1792, imposed the death penalty for stealing mail, and was modified in 1799 to a sentence of forty lashes and imprisonment, but only for the first offense. The current penalty is fines and up to five years in prison.

The Sheriff of Nottingham was an unhappy soul. Robin Red Arse and his merry band of spankos were wreaking havoc on the King’s Men. Not content to best them in feats-of-arms, Robin insisted each defeated soldier was thrashed before being sent back to base in disgrace. Truth be told, he didn’t care about the knights and foot sloggers; nor about the fat clerics relieved of their butter dispensations, but this latest outrage was, well, an outrage. To think of the fate awaiting the fair Maid Marion. The scrumptious, delectable, alluring Marion—he swiped the drool from his lips. Presumably kidnapped—how else could such a delicious morsel of sweet curvaceous delight simply vanish? Even for Robin, this was a flog too far.

Disguised as a peasant, the Sheriff cut a surprisingly authentic one, he made his way through Nottingham Forest—picking up odd jobs, and intelligence along the ways. Slipping into the role of drovers’ assistant, he obtained entry to Robin’s encampment as the bawling oxen—likely ‘liberated’ from a nearby estate—were corralled for roasting later. The monthly fair was underway, but instead of puppet shows and wrestling, the centerpiece of entertainment was none other than the bodacious Marion.

Actually, her outrageous arse was. There was a sign above the whipping post—although pointless as the vast majority couldn’t read—that said in bold print, ‘Spank the maiden and feed a hungry child‘. What was shocking though, was not the bewitchingly nude Marion, hands shackled above her kerchief covered head, writhing while trying unsuccessfully to hide her abundant charms: It was the small troop of heavily armed King’s Guard who protected the personage of the duc d’Brittany. He was seated at a long table tabulating men and women as they passed, each time, writing in a ledger and amiably passing a silver bar to a laughing Robin next to him.

Seeing Friar Tuck tap a bung on a cask of ale, the Sheriff sidled up and asked—in his best Anglo-Saxon slang—what the fuck is going on? The rotund friar pulled a draft and snorted. “It seems fair Maid Marion was betrothed by the King’s command and she spurned the poxed whelp. ‘Tis rumored she rashly spoke of her devotion to young Robin Red Arse and stated she’d rather be arrested, gaoled and publicly flogged than to marry any but her one true love. The King agreed to her wager. One hundred pounds of raw silver bars* to be her Royal dowry, if she withstands the doubled number of blows given by the good people of the Forest.”
“And the duc?”
“The official witness of course. It’s said the King has no wish for the defiant Marion to be whipped to a bloody pulp, but, if anyone pulls their strikes, they will be flogged afterwards.”
“It seems so… unseemly.”

A shrill feminine squeal stilled the clamorous unwashed mass. All eyes turned towards the red line that bloomed across the succulent prodigious expanse of sweet white globes.

“That’s one!” The crowd roared its approval of Robin’s pronouncement. “Only one-hundred and ninety-nine to go, my one true love! Whip her good boys and girls. I want her loins on fire for after Friar Tuck pronounces us man and wife. I’ll likely need to mount her from behind!” Another shrill squeal. “That’s two!”

A lively jig was struck, and those waiting their turn started to dance to the music and cheer with every harsh snap of the strap. Loud applause greeted a particularly hard blow that had Marion jutting and wiggling her bottom in time to the music.

“And so it begins… aren’t you going to enter the lists… Sheriff? After all, this is the closest you’ll ever get to arresting the attention of the fair Maid Marion with your truncated tool of office.”

*Dowry roughly equivalent to 480,000 pounds today, or 570,000 euros or 621,000 dollars.
Source: According to Regia.org, a pound/372g of silver [by weight] was worth in current currency] approximately 4,800 pounds/5,700 euros/6,210 dollars, whereas one Saxon silver penny was worth 20 pounds in current money. A silver penny would buy 15 chickens or a cow’s eye. A pound/372g of silver [by weight] would buy 120 acres of land, the King’s lap dog or trained hunting dog, or a fledged Peregrine Falcon. Interestingly enough, a horse was less expensive as were slaves at ‘only’ 306g of silver. However, the fine for seducing a free woman was 465g of silver [6,000 pounds/7,111 euros/7,700 dollars] whereas raping a female slave was set higher at 504g of silver [6,500 pounds/7,703 euros/8,398 dollars]. Higher still was the fine for a priest working on Sunday at 930g of silver [12,000 pounds/14,222 euros/15,501 dollars].

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Flashback Friday: “Why can’t a woman get a hard spanking?”

No, you aren’t hallucinating, this is Thursday, not Friday. However, we are still waiting for Lust in Spring, to be published on Amazon, so I am flipping the schedule. You may now resume your normal week.

This week’s Flashback Friday, was originally posted Oct 10th, 2009.

Alison was fed up with feeling sorry for herself. The more blogs she read, the more chat rooms she entered, the angrier she became. What was the matter with those assholes?
‘ALL I WANT IS A HARD SPANKING. NO FRILLS, NO SEX AND NO FUCKING BLOWJOBS! GET OVER YOUR SORRY ASSES AND GET A FUCKING LIFE!’
Creeps and perverts, creeps and perverts: that’s all I get. Where are all the good men?

*POOF*

“Hi dearie, you called me?”
“Who the fuck are you? How did you get in here? I’m warning you, I have a black belt.”
“Oh I know, Allie, your belt collection is kicking! Sorry, I’m your Fairy Spanking Queen and I’m here for your makeover!”
“Makeover? Damn, I knew I should’ve snorted less blow.”
“Thanks, Allie, but I only let men blow me. I am a Queen.”
“I noticed. Why are you here? Wait: Don’t tell me… my makeover. I’ll bite”
“Oooh you are kinky, Allie. We’re gonna get along famously! As your Fairy Spanking Queen, it’s my task to turn you into a Dom magnet. All those strong, ripped, hard men will be panting to get your panties down and blister your butt. Is it hot in here or is it just me? Does this dress make me look fat? I’ve never liked ruffles, but, union dress code and all that.”
“This is too bizarre. How exactly are you going to make me over into a Dom magnet? Haven’t all the good ones already got their hands full?”
“Sadly, Allie, you are correct. They do have their hands and whips and paddles full dealing with all the bratty girls. That’s why, we are making you over into a power woman.”
“A power woman? Padded shoulders and pouffy hair? No thanks.”
“No, silly Allie. A power woman! A woman who can stride up to the chosen Dom, tell him you need a long hard spanking; then turn and walk away. Any Dom worth the title will follow you anywhere.”
“And then…”
“And then, thanks to your makeover, pour moi cherie, you lead him back here, perform a strip tease, ending with being bent over this chair. Implements readily at hand.”
“No sex?”
“No sex Allie, but lots of swats. My guarantee.”
“Where do I sign up?”

“Lust in Spring” nearing publication

The newest published anthology from Paranormal Erotica Romance—aka PNRLust—is scheduled on Amazon Kindle and Kindle Unlimited, this March 30th, 2017. As you know, or should know, I am writing my fiction for publication under the pen name, Byron Cane. My novella is called The Witch of Olympus Hollow and is a different spin on ‘green’ erotica. If you would like an Advance Review Copy of my novella as a Word .docx, please contact me via lurvspanking@gmail.com. In return for the free copy of my novella, I would request an honest review posted on your blog, and/or on Amazon or Goodreads once the Lust in Spring anthology goes live on March 30th, 2017.

What do a wealthy divorcee, a gay college student, five men trapped in a cottage, and a college graduate in the 1950s have in common? Each has a date with the supernatural. In Lust in Spring, the sixth volume in the Lust series, Spring is a time of renewal and desire. Gods, goddesses, incubi and the Fae will seduce and beguile their mortal lovers. But the price for pleasure must be paid.
——–
In Byron Cane’s The Witch of Olympus Hollow, it’s 1952, and Gale Johnson is outraged when her parents send her packing to a tiny town in Appalachia to visit the mysterious great aunt she has never met. In the foothills of North Carolina, Gale will discover a wondrous birthright. A lifetime of discipline and sexual satisfaction awaits, but her destiny comes at a cost.

In JD Carabella’s Milady’s Command, Juliet has wasted fifteen years on a loveless marriage. She’s a beautiful, sexual woman, and she needs a man who will surrender to her lust. Will her secret fantasy of power and control drive away the man worthy of her attention? Juliet’s dream can come true, if she’s willing to pay the price.

In Emma Jaye’s Incubus Spring, university student Finn has a dilemma: which man to pick? His current boyfriend, Charlie, is the take-charge type Finn wants. Problem is, Charlie is more interested in managing Finn’s budget than his body. Then there’s Ezra. It’s tough to resist when the sexy owner of an adult toy store offers hands-on demonstrations. Torn between loyalty and lust, the unwitting prey in a seductive game of cat and mouse, Finn’s decision will shape his destiny.

One goddess. Five men. In Ina Morata’s The Greenwood Goddess, it’s Beltane, and five men have been taken prisoner by Gaia. They’ve been set a quest: compete for the goddess’ favor with the best erotic story. As captivated as the rest, Ben is desperate to win, not least because in this strange and magical place, losing has serious consequences. But if he wins…will the prize be what it seems?

A vote for Eleanor will mean a pumpkin in every pot

On a personal note, my friend Ina Morata is one of the featured authors at the Battle of the Beasts. Her entry is included in the Lust in Tooth and Claw anthology and I urge you to Vote for Eleanor as your favorite beast. She is the second row, third column.

I wrote the following review of Ina’s story. Leanan Sidhe and the Wordsmith is a deeply erotic horror novella from the brilliant imagination of the renowned author Ina Morata. The story opens with Andy Marshall deposited as a half-drowned scrivener on the shores of an Irish isle out of legend. He received an offer to be writer-in-residence the last week of October, and, like many a man who fell victim to lust, has been led through the lashing rain not by his pen, but by his throbbing erect sword. Andy dreams of glory and fame and ‘Miss Leanan’ is offering both sight unseen. When he arrives he meets the carver-in-residence and is taken aback by both his talent and his haunted pallor. The carver tries to explain that She is everything but Andy spies Eleanor in the glow of the fireplace casting no reflection and he is instantly ensnared by her feral eroticism. For Eleanor is the Leanan Sidhe and Andy Marshall has been lured to witness the ancient rituals of sex and rebirth in exchange for every written masterpiece and wanton fantasy locked inside his mortal soul.

Leanan Sidhe and the Wordsmith is an arousing literary retelling of the classic human desire for fame and fortune at any cost. Only the reader can determine for themselves whether the price paid was worth the journey to the windswept mansion that lies a portal away from fairy fantasy.

The naughty fairy captured by a swamp troll: part 3/3

This story contains spanking and graphic unrealistic sexual descriptions between creatures. I am the original author posted elsewhere 3/8/08. Do not read if you are offended by a funny sex and spanking story.

You should go here to read the first part of the story otherwise you’ll be missing out on 1/3rd of the story. 1+1+1=3 See! Even swamp trolls can count that high!

Gee Bark, way to show off your mathematical prowess…OWWWW! You should also go here to read the second part of the story because what naughty Heather was going to say was that mouth+pussy+ass=3 fairy holes for a swamp troll to fuck. OWWWWW! I don’t think they heard you Heather. OOOOWWWWW!

Bark Gnawer was by no means finished, but then, neither was Heather. He lifted her around her waist so that she dangled over his arm and resumed spanking her very hard while she squealed and twisted. When she steadied herself by grabbing his softened cock he carefully laid her flat on the floor. She rolled to her knees and started kissing the troll’s thighs. She moved from one to the other and then took his stirring cock back in her mouth. Not satisfied, she moved on to his balls and after that, asked him to turn around and bend over. Remembering the taste of herself, she kissed and licked his buttocks and then spreading his cheeks open, stared avidly at his anus area. She ran her tongue up and down his crack, getting ever closer to her target and when she lapped at the edge, he groaned with delight. Emboldened, she tried again, this time in the center and giggled as his muscle winked at her. The taste was clean but musky and the tang bit her taste buds, drawing her to use her entire mouth to suck and lick. Reaching underneath, she clasped his cock in one hand and stroked up and down in rhythm to her tongue slithering into his sphincter. It was too much for Bark and his knees buckled and he fell forward.

Heather sat back and waited until he recovered. For a swamp troll, he seemed to have less energy than he should and she wondered if the blue haze over her skin had something to with that fact. It was clear Bark couldn’t see the color and nothing she’d ever learned at fairy school explained exactly what the color would do to a troll. She could also guess what her Master would want next, but hearing the dire warnings in her head, it was not something she would speak out loud. “Would you like some refreshments sir?”

“No, I want you. I need you. What are doing to me?”

“Nothing sir, nothing at all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Bark rumbled in his chest and got to his feet. He seized her hair and dragged her unresisting body over to a stool. Bending her over face down, he quickly secured her wrists and ankles to the wooden legs. Thus displayed, she truly was at his mercy. “Don’t go anywhere naughty fairy, I’ll be right back.” A mocking laugh trailed off until there was only silence.

Heather waited, in this position, her wings now fluttered freely. Soft and pliable, they were not enough to get her airborne; that was accomplished by fairy dust. She was resigned to the fact that very soon, too soon, Bark Gnawer the swamp troll would have an intimate encounter with the power of fairy dust. She could only hope she’d survive at least.

She heard him return and stand next her. His steady breathing did not calm her, but she was determined not to beg, no matter how much he beat her. He was correct that she was doing something to him, but no amount of torture would ever make a fairy reveal the ultimate secret. There was a soft sigh and then a band of fire laced her bottom. A loud snap echoed in the room as the leather strap left its mark: again the soft sigh and another band just below the first. With regular timing the swamp troll swung the heavy leather strap at his bound captive’s reddening bottom until he reached her upper thighs. “Do you have anything to say naughty fairy?”

The silence was unexpected, so he began again, only this time, a little harder and a little faster. By the time he had painted Heather’s bottom a second time with a deep pink coat, she was in a good deal of pain. But not enough to speak so Bark commenced his thrashing yet again. The snap and crack of the cruel strap burned her quivering cheeks and stamped his mark into her soul. She felt herself start to float and her traitorous pussy start to melt. Bark noticed that as well as stopped whipping her when her bottom from the top to midway down her thighs was deep, brick red and flaming hot.

Heather groaned as his hands slapped down hard on her cheeks and squeezed tight, digging his nails into the scalded flesh. She groaned even louder as he thrust his cock, even more enormous than ever, all the way in until his stomach meet her bottom with a thud. All the way out and all the way in: hard and violent thrusts rocked helpless Heather and all she could do is whimper. Not with pain, not anymore, only with lust as she was punished by her valentine. She deserved this treatment for flying away from fairyland and entering the Screaming Swamp. She was in truth naughty Heather and had earned every spank, every stroke, every discipline Bark meted out.

She opened her mouth and screamed and screamed. “More! More! Hurt me more! Punish me, punish your naughty Heather!” He did indeed punish her some more, pausing in his fucking frenzy to spank her with his hands and then the strap. Stoking her passion by lashing her tail, he resumed his fucking of her pussy and then had a thought. To truly punish her, she had yet one hole left to plunder. He dug his fingers in her crease and pulled her wide open. Pale skin shone where the strap had not kissed and in the middle was a pink dot where his fingers had played before. His cock was wet enough, so he pulled out of her pussy and placed the head on her anus. He felt Heather tense and asked one more time. “Do you have anything to say?”

Heather dangled there, over the stool, her pussy wet and sore, her bottom red and swollen, her Master’s cock poised to breach the forbidden entrance and still she said nothing. Unseen and unheard by Bark, tears finally flowed from her eyes as she whispered softly good-bye to her fairy life.

The swamp troll pushed forward, but despite the earlier stretching, he had difficulty puncturing the opening. He moistened her with some saliva and tried again; this time his plum size head popped inside the ring and Heather felt a jolt. She opened her mouth, whether to scream or to yield she would never know, for Bark chose that moment to push steadily inward until he could go no further but with four inches of his cock still left outside her ass. Heather reacted by exhaling in a steady hiss as she felt his large cock push her rectal walls outward. Bark waited and waited as frantic pulses ran up and down those walls. She could feel the jolts now coming closer and closer together, but she was resigned to her fate. Now he moved, pulling out in the same slow and steady motion until the head was lodged tight within her ring. Back in, a little faster and a little deeper, and then out. Back in and this time all the way to her colon as he sunk all twelve inches into her ass until his balls slapped up against her flowing pussy. He groaned, she groaned, the heat on her bottom matched the heat in her bottom. One minute, five minutes, ten minutes Bark thrust into Heather and when she heard him groan and speed up his pounding to match his earlier fucking, she knew the end was near. Once more she heard the voice of the fairy elders in her mind.

‘Never reveal the secret of fairy flight. If you allow a male penis to plunge into your back passage, the back passage where you excrete the fairy dust that gives you flight; if you allow this, then the male will be trapped and will not withdraw until he shoots his seed deep into your bowels. No matter how long it takes, until he comes he will not stop thrusting into you and when he does finally come, that seed will meet your fairy dust and the combined reaction will cause an explosion. An explosion that will kill you both and safeguard the secret of fairy flight.’

Heather felt Bark’s seed spatter the interior walls of her rectum, then nothing at all.

“Heather! Heather! Wake up!”

She felt a hand shaking her and she growled with annoyance.

“Wake up! Please!”

“Go away, I’m dead, so you can’t bother me.”

“You are not dead Heather please open your eyes.”

She reluctantly opened her eyes. She was lying on her side in the same room. The steaming waters of the pool still burbled but the walls were coated with black soot: the stool which over she had been bent and punished was so much kindling. She looked down at her body, but it was unmarred. Looking up she saw a familiar face peering down at her. “Tanner? Is that you!”

“Yes Heather it is I.”

“But they told me you had died!”

“I did.”

“Where’s Bark Gnawer?”

Tanner reached out and lifted Heather to her feet. “I am Bark, or rather, my soul was trapped in the body of a swamp troll.”

“How could that happen?”

“How do you think it happened Heather?”

“You mean… no, they couldn’t have!”

“Yes Heather Passiontail. When the fairy elders discovered that you and I had fallen in love, they cursed me by casting my soul into a dumb swamp troll. They put a spell on the troll to kill and eat any fairy he caught.”

“Then why didn’t Bark do that to me?”

“Because the spell had weakened enough for me to persuade him otherwise.”

“Then why are we still alive after he spent his seed in my bottom?”

“Part of the curse Heather was that unless the swamp troll punished my true love by coming in her bottom and igniting the fairy dust, I would never be free.”

“Oh Tanner! I can’t believe we’re together. I’m so happy.”

“I am as well Heather. There is one minor detail that I neglected to mention.”

“What is that my love?”

“A certain naughty fairy it seems, was behaving most wantonly with a swamp troll of all things. What am I to do about that?”

“Punish her hard of course, my love, my Master.”

The End and they lived spankily ever after.

The naughty fairy captured by a swamp troll: part 2/3

This story contains spanking and graphic unrealistic sexual descriptions between creatures. I am the original author posted elsewhere 3/8/08. Do not read if you are offended by a funny sex and spanking story.

You should go here to read the first part of the story otherwise you’ll be missing out on 1/3rd of the story. 1+1+1=3 See! Even swamp trolls can count that high!

When Heather Passiontail awoke it was dark. She opened her eyes, but it remained dark and she sat up in fright. A frantic scan around her and she slowly could see that her surroundings were in fact, a cave. Behind her, there was the smoldering remains of a fire and stretched out on the far side was a large, still form, presumably Bark Gnawer. For herself, she was aware that she was covered by a warm blanket, woven of an unfamiliar plant fiber. She was also completely naked and when she ran her hands over her body, a faint blue glow surrounded her skin. Her involuntary gasp as she held her shimmering hands to her face roused the sleeping troll.

“You’re awake, that’s good. I was worried.”

“Yes I’m awake sir, what day is this?”

“It is two sunrises and two moonsets since you last had your eyes open.”

“Two days!” Heather lay back down and stared up into the darkness. “That explains it then,” she whispered quietly.

“Explains what?”

“Nothing sir. Why I’m so hungry sir. Do you have any food suitable for a fairy?”

There was a rumble from the direction of the dim fire and Heather could see Bark get to his feet and move in her direction. She shrank back in her blanket as the swamp troll loomed over her. Bending down, he reached under her and with surprising gentleness, scooped her up, blanket and all and trundled with measured strides deeper into the pitch-black cave.

Heather lost track of how many steps Bark had taken when at last a pale light shone in the distance. Getting closer and brighter, she squinted painfully when the full force of the glow struck her eyes. When she could see, a sense of wonder nearly overcame her when the chamber was revealed fully. “What is this place?”

“My secret place, the place that no one has been but me, until now.”

“It’s beautiful Bark Gnawer. Did you do all this?”

“Some was here already, but I did most of what you see.”

He carefully set Heather down on a padded bench set against the far wall. As he walked away towards some shelving nearby, Heather blushed when she saw he was naked as well. His muscular legs and his firm, taut buttocks drew her mesmerized gaze. Her imagination looked and wondered what it would be like to run her lips and tongue over those cheeks and between, deep between. Her blood stirred once more and to her dismay, the blue haze pulsed brighter with every heartbeat. Despite her fear though, her hands crept under the blanket and between her thighs, deep between. A low moan escaped her lips and she closed her eyes as the feelings washed over her.

She felt his hand cup the back of her neck and a container pressed to her mouth. She opened slightly and cool liquid poured in. As she swallowed, Bark carefully fed her the entire contents, all the while, Heather’s fingers kept probing her pussy. As the last of the fluid went down her throat, she came again and shuddered in waves of passion. Bark lifted first one hand and then the other, licking all her secretions from her sticky fingers until they were clean. Heather finally opened her eyes and asked, “What’s happening to me?”

Bark said nothing, but sat down beside her on the bench and set a plate of food upon her lap. Bit by bit, he fed her the entire contents of fruit and bread all washed down with more drink, this time a hot infusion of herbal tea. Still hungry, she ate a second plate of food before finally feeling satiated. “I need to relieve myself.”

Bark pointed to a curtain hanging next to the shelving and told her everything she’d need was inside. When she went to rise from the bench, the blanket was snagged under the troll. With a simple look up at her, she understood and cast off her covering. Nude, her skin flushed under his intense scrutiny. Her body ached and yearned, knowing full well that it would feel the power of his cock before long.

When she returned from her cleansing, Bark had cleaned up and motioned her to follow him through yet another curtained entrance. A short passageway through the rock led to a chamber filled with warm steam. In the center was a natural mineral spring that bubbled and frothed in a medium size pool. Around the circumference were steps carved in the edges and on the floor were stacks of towels and bottles of colored fluid. Heather needed no encouragement and dipped her toes in the roiling waters. A contented sigh and she eased down until she was covered up to her neck. The swamp troll entered across from her and for a long time, there was no sound at all, save for the popping of fragrant bubbles.

Heather was only dimly aware of the passage of time and could not be sure of how long they’d been in the bath. A volume of water sloshed around and then she felt him sit next to her. Bark wrapped an arm around her shoulders and sat her upright. Telling her to bend her head forward, Heather felt a stream of water pour over her hair again and again. Then a thick liquid dripped onto her scalp and Bark’s strong fingers massaged it deep into her tresses. Heather purred with delight as he worked and relaxed her stiff neck. More water to rinse and then Bark proceeded to methodically and thoroughly clean every inch of her body. After finishing with her hair, he moved on to her face, then her neck and her shoulders. Dipping below the surface his firm hands gripped her breasts and moved in circles round and round until he captured her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. With a painful tug that sparked her deep inside, he pulled her throbbing breasts out of the water, forcing her back to arch and bringing her taut nipples to his mouth. He teased and suckled as her hands gripped the sides of the stone bath. Her legs fell open as he moved his body closer and she felt his cock poking her belly.

“Not yet,” he murmured and released her sore nipples. He ordered her to stand and she could, barely, and only by leaning against the side. He lathered up his hands and continued washing her front, her torso, her flanks, down her thighs and lifting each leg in turn, all the way to her little pinkie toe. Everywhere except her pulsating pussy. When she begged, he said, “Not yet,” and ordered her to turn around. He then washed her back and told her to rinse off. Moving to the other end of the bath, he told her to stand on a higher step that put her waist just above the lip. Placing a stack of towels on the deck, he put his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. When she did, her bottom rose clear of the water and his hands moved to her knees and nudged them apart. Heather trembled as she laid her head down sideways and waited for her Master to take her. Instead, soapy fingers caressed her buttocks, healed from her two-day slumber and she thrust back in small motions. Around and around his hands swirled and dipped lower and lower. Poised at the entrance to her pussy, she cried out when two slick fingers slid easily inside. In and out in a parody of sex, he cleaned her inside and out and then placed two fingers of his other hand on her anus.

She tensed, once more hearing the warnings in her mind, but it was too late, much too late. If it happened, then so be it and damn the consequences. Bark slid his fingers again into her rectum and as before, she convulsed with pleasure. Moving into her bottom and her pussy at the same time soon brought her to the brink of orgasm, but once again, he whispered, “Not yet,” and withdrew his fingers. He brought them around to mouth and she dutifully licked them clean, both from her pussy and then from her ass. The taste of her ass was like nothing she’d ever had before and her arousal ratcheted even higher.

“Naughty fairy!” Bark said spanking her as she remained bent over suckling his fingers and raising her wet bottom high begging for more fondling. Instead, she got harder spanks, her cheeks quickly turning pink under his calloused hand while he scolded her for enjoying the pain.

“Please take me Bark!”

“Not yet, your turn to take care of me.”

He slid away and after a moment, she followed, stalking him until she trapped his large body in the corner. She was only half his size, but when she pressed up against him, he went quiescent and let her work her will. She washed his hair as well and his body, but when she approached his middle, he stopped her from grabbing his cock. “Please sir, please let me clean you.”

Bark kept her away, and motioned to his legs. With a frustrated squeal, Heather pounced on his legs and rubbed as rough as she could. At last he was satisfied and leaned back with a dark smile creasing his face. “It is time, naughty fairy,” pointing to his erection, dimly seen beneath the surface. “Suck me, suck me now.”

With a desperate sob, Heather took a deep breath and plunged underwater searching for the object of her lust. Her hands grasped and brought it to her lips. Suck she did and repeatedly came up for air, before once more slavering over the large troll cock. She felt Bark’s hands in her wet hair and then he forced his cock once more down her throat. Still impaled, he rose up out of the water, bringing her head with him and before she ran out of air, he released her and she gasped loudly.

Grabbing her waist, he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around behind his back and then slid his cock into her pussy for the first time. Despite her arousal, the water had dried her out and his entry was painful. It was also the first time she’d ever been entered by a real cock. Only objects and her hands had been there before. She squirmed in his arms, but he only growled, “Be still naughty fairy, you know you need this, you need this pain.”

Heather wanted to disagree, but the thought faded with every thrust. It was still uncomfortable, but the pain had eased and instead, a feeling of being full suffused her very pores. After repeated deep probing, she felt the end of his weapon touch her womb and she cried out when he withdrew and then rammed back inside. Over and over again with steady motions he pummeled her insides while spanking her wet bottom with one large hand in time to his inward thrusts until he tensed and erupted, spewing his sperm deep. Heather was still poised on the brink, he had come too soon and she nearly cried with frustration. “Not yet,” he mocked her and holding himself inside her pussy, he moved to the edge and laid her down on the towels. Before she could react, he pulled out and then swooped in the latch his mouth on her engorged lips. His tongue foraged inside and withdrew coated with his sperm. Again and again he licked and drank down their mingled essence until she was empty, then, he started on her clitoris. This time when she was nearly there, all Bark said was, “Come,” and Heather did until she could come no more.

End part 2

The naughty fairy captured by a swamp troll: part 1/3

This story contains spanking and graphic unrealistic sexual descriptions between creatures. I am the original author posted elsewhere 3/8/08. Do not read if you are offended by a funny sex and spanking story.

Heather didn’t mean to be naughty, but being spawned under the full moon on a leap year had caused her to grow slower than the other fairies. Here it was, her fifth birthday [even though she was really twenty years old] and still everyone treated her like a mugwump. Not fair! All the other girls were finding their mates, lots and lots of mates morning noon and night and yet Heather had nobody. Fine, she’d show them all. Two weeks before the leap day, when all the other fairies were sleeping off the effects of the latest orgy, Heather flew slowly and carefully away from the enchanted meadow and into the Screaming Swamp. She’d been warned that the swamp was dangerous and that naughty fairies went in but they never came out.

Heather delighted in all the pretty flowers in the swamp and despite the large spooky trees and the many clinging vines she felt quite safe flitting from flower to bush. In fact, some of the large stamens were very, very nice to rub against. So much so, that her resentment at not having multiple mates of her own was slightly tempered. She probed deeper and deeper into the gloomy swamp until at last, she decided that it was time to rest. Finding an outcrop of rock, she alighted and walked over to the edge. Bending over to spy out the locale, Heather was shocked when she felt something seize her around the waist. She was even more shocked, when her fairy skirt was flicked up and a large hand commenced to spank her bottom quite hard. Oh no was Heather’s first and second thoughts as her now bare bottom was exposed to the elements… and to the harsh hand thoroughly warming her naughty backside. She struggled, not very convincingly, but the spanking continued forever. Well, not forever, but Heather was determined not to scream. Now she knew why it was called the Screaming Swamp, but was it too late for her?

A deep voice rumbled through Heather’s body. It did delicious things to her insides, made them all melty and slick. “Why have you entered my domain?” The commanding voice was punctuated by another hard swat to Heather’s red bottom.

“Sorry!” she squealed, “I was just passing through.”

“Liar!” roared the angry sounding voice and although Heather was still firmly bent over and exposed, there was not the anticipated swat. Instead, what felt like feathers were slowly moved up and down her quivering calves.

“No,” naughty Heather moaned, “no, please don’t do that! Spank me more, harder and harder until I’m screaming! Please, I’ll scream for you.”

A low growling chuckle shook the swamp caused ripples in the scummy water and felled snakes from the trees. “Oh, oh, oh. Yes little fairy, you will scream for me. I know what naughty girls like you need. Not spanking, no, not that. Naughty fairies get tickled!”

The canopy overhead swayed as Heather’s shrieks and pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. The mysterious creature effortless picked her up and after sitting down on a nearby stump, threw her over his lap. From her face-down position Heather finally determined that her chastiser was a ‘he’, the large – make that – very large, lump under her tummy was proof of his gender. She grabbed his hairy leg and tugged and beat on him with her fists in frustration. “Let me go!”

His response was to firmly pin her torso to his thick, meaty thighs and then to slowly commence the tickle torture.

The swamp troll, for that’s what Heather finally realized he was, ran his large and calloused hands all over her body. He pinched and poked and prodded and tickled her soft and succulent flesh. She pleaded for her release, but he left no part of her body unexplored. Heather wriggled frantically when she felt her sore bottom cheeks be pulled apart and the warm breath of the troll was followed by a wet finger probing her rear opening.

“No!” she shouted, “Enough of this you beast! I demand you let me go!”

There was a no response, just a gentle in and out movement of first one finger and then two. Heather swiveled her hips as best she could but he clamped her tighter to his lap and with his free hand, gripped the back of her neck tightly. Helpless, she could only squeal in outrage as very unfairylike oaths spewed from her dainty lips.

After one last stretching, he withdrew his thick and stubby fingers from her bottom and then with quick and decisive blows, resumed spanking her tender cheeks.

“I am not a beast.”

“Yes you are! You are a large, hairy, smelly beast and I hate you!”

Heather writhed over his lap, her lower half bouncing under her chastiser’s hand, her head firmly grasped in the other. Despite the rough handling, what she really scared her was the feelings stirring in her blood. Fairies had a secret that they revealed to no one and if the troll continued much longer with his treatment of her, Heather feared the worst.

“Do you know what day this is?” he grumbled.

“No I don’t sir.” Heather was relieved that he’d stopped spanking her again, although his hand was now caressing her very red and very tender bottom.

“It’s Saint Valentines Day.”

“I thought that was only for cupids?” Heather was very surprised that a swamp troll would have any concept of love.

“I don’t have a valentine of my own.”

Heather was rapidly reassessing her predicament. Maybe there was a way out of her torment after all. “Sir? If you let me go, I’ll help you.”

“Naughty fairy, if I let you go, you’ll fly away.”

“No Mr.Troll, I promise I won’t try to escape. On my word as Heather Passiontail, I will be your valentine.”

There was utter silence and she could feel the tension in his body and the trembling in his hands. He grasped her waist and lifted her up and off his lap. Setting her down, he then gently spun her around to face him. “You’ll be my valentine?”

Heather could only nod as she saw the troll for the first time.

“You’ll do anything I say?”

Her response was a shy smile and she reached out to touch his leg.

“My name is Bark Gnawer.”

“That’s an interesting name sir, how did you earn such strong moniker?”

“What’s a moniker? Are you saying I have something on my face?”

“No sir! A moniker is a name, and your name Mr. Bark Gnawer, it’s a very handsome name.”

“I like your name too Heather Passiontail. Your tail is very red, I like that.”

Heather reached around and rubbed that red bottom. The initial sting had started to fade, but oh was she sore. She would do anything, anything at all to avoid another spanking. Deciding to take the initiative, Heather gently eased Bark onto the stump and sat her aching cheeks on his lap. She took his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

“So what do you want your valentine to do first?”

“This is nice Heather, but I want you to suck my cock. I’ve never had that done to me before.”

“Never?”

“Do I look like the kinda guy that the ladies would flock to? Does this look like a hangout for luscious females? I live in a fucking swamp Heather! What do you think?”

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m sorry. Please don’t beat me again, I’ll give you the best blowjob I can.”

“You better, or else that spanking you got will seem like patty cakes.”

Heather squeaked with distress and quickly jumped off his lap and fell to her knees. She was surprised when she realized that Bark wasn’t naked, but had on a tunic and a loincloth. It blended in with his wrinkled skin, but she had no problem sliding her slender fingers under the waistband and drawing the loincloth down and off his legs. Her knees were uncomfortable so she wadded up the cloth and then knelt once more. When she looked back up, she let a loud gasp.

“You’re huge! How am I supposed to suck that?”

Bark the swamp troll leaned forward and grabbed her long hair pulling her face to face with the rapidly expanding erection. He was actually over twelve inches, not that he’d actually measured or anything, and the knob was the size of a large plum. He was so keyed up from trollhandling the naughty fairy that he feared he would spurt at any moment. No time for subtleties, he poked clumsily at her mouth until his cock slid between her lips.

“Rumph, guggle, slobber, choke.”

Heather flailed her arms and tried to slow him down, but Bark sawed his throbbing slab in and out, going further and deeper at every desperate thrust. His hand twisted her hair and forced her head back creating a better angle to thrust even deeper. In response to the pain, Heather was shocked to feel her fairy pussy fairly gush fluid and when he pulled back out, she was able to take a deep breath.

“Wait please!”

“Why?”

“Stand up sir, let me lay down on the stump.”

Heather arranged her body so that her head fell backwards off the edge. Upside down, she could see that the large club jutting out from his torso was now lined up perfectly with her mouth. She stretched out her arms and grabbing both of his thighs, she drew him closer. Taking several lung filling breaths, she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth and with one steady push, let Bark shove his entire twelve inch meat straight down her squeezing throat. It was too much for him and with a roar that echoed through the swamp, Heather felt scalding fluid gush into her throat and down into her eager tummy.

After he was drained, he made to move back, but Heather stopped him.

“Sir, you’re still hard and as your valentine, I insist you use me some more. I want you to fuck my mouth this time. Ram it in as deep and as hard as you want until you come again. Please sir, throat fuck your naughty fairy and punish her for teasing you.”

Bark did indeed punish his naughty fairy valentine and for thirty minutes used Heather’s throat. She in the meantime had buried her right hand in her pussy, fisting herself in time to Bark’s thrusts. She already had come three times when she felt his cock bulge once more and eject a vast quantity into her mouth this time. The salty, gummy texture filled her watering mouth and as she swallowed, the depraved action triggered yet another massive orgasm that caused her to blackout.

End of part 1.

You may now spank the bride

An adult story about spanking and sex and very bad words, read with caution

In the year of our Lord 1273, marriage was for the nobility. The serfs, peasants and general workers who comprised the majority of the population were left to their own devices even if a priest was available. Various rituals existed in many cultures to bond two young people together for the sake of the children usually already on the way. In the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach however, there was a very different ritual performed on the rare occasion of Holy Matrimony betwixt and blushing maiden and an untried boy. Here in this place the bride was given away by the groom’s parents; the groom by the bride’s parents. [*If unavailable due to plague, war, malnutrition or general misfortune then appropriate substitutes would be arranged.]

Perhaps thrashed away would be a better term. The morning of the wedding, the respective parents* would arrive at the hovels of the soon-to-be-in-laws and request permission to enter. This was done simultaneously and the bride/groom would politely bade their new parents* to enter the dwelling. Once inside, what the parents* found would be a nude groom/bride standing next to wedding finery. This was done, the nudity, to ensure there were no malformations in the bodies of the engaged. For the bride, she was also subjected to a physical exam to insure an intact hymen [unless a certificate of prior breakage was notarized and signed by thirteen male witnesses] and proper function of mouth, nipples and anus. If satisfied, the bride’s new in-laws would then bathe her thoroughly but lovingly as a new daughter and dress her in preparation to join their household.

The groom was also inspected and his new mother-in-law would ensure he possessed a proper and suitable cock stand for their daughter being given away in the hovel down the lane. The foreskin was carefully washed and then the groom’s father-in-law would direct the groom in the proper manner to use a woman’s mouth and throat. After spending his large load in his mother-in-law’s mouth [he had abstained from solitary vice for a month] she would then solemnly reveal her vagina and anus to her son-in-law and give general instructions on the proper usage of both holes. He would be ordered to rigorously use all three orifices of their daughter that afternoon and into the early morning hours. Both were told to be ready to offer proofs the following day. The groom was then also bathed and clothed and the respective parties then left the hovels and made their way through the hamlet to the center green for the ceremony.

The procession wended its way past each dwelling and stopped in turn. For in the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach, the bride and groom were fully clothed, except for the opening in the back that framed the entire surface of the bare bottom. This bare bottom was given a single stroke with a willow cane at every hovel by the respective parents*. Thus by the time the moist-eyed bride and groom reached the green, they each sported thirty red stripes on formally pristine bottom cheeks. Once at the green, the bride and groom knelt side-by-side and leaned forward, thus prettily presenting themselves for further spanking.

The priest would begin the ceremony and when he asked who it was who gave away the bride, this was the cue for her new in-laws to strike her bottom hard with a thick leather strap created for this day. She received as many strokes as her age – thus providing a reason for parents to delay a daughter’s marriage – and after each one, she thanked God for her humbling chastisement. The groom received exactly the same, except his blows were delivered with a paddle also made special for the day. When the vows were exchanged, the parents* switched sides and implements and delivered ten spanks to their own children for the last time as single individuals. After the ring and the pronouncement by the priest of, “You may now spank the bride”, there was one last test for the painfully suffering and newly minted crying wife. Over her new husband’s knee she willingly went, he sitting on his sore bottom and with loving scrupulousness he used both the strap and paddle – gifts to the newlyweds – until he was completely satisfied the meaning of ‘Honor and Obey!’ had been imprinted on her swollen buttocks.

There of course was still the deflowering to occur and most couples at this point decided it was too far and too painful to walk to their new home and thus consummated their marriage right then on the green in front of the rapt inhabitants of the tiny hamlet of Whipping-Hollow-On-Butterbum-Reach. She would bend over her scarlet ass reaching for the clouds and he with his rampant prick plunging hard into virgin womb, that pain unnoticed in the scorching flames as her husband’s torso spanked her over and over again until he flooded her no longer virgin vagina with his impregnating sperm for the first of many times in succession.

The Lust in Lace anthology is now available with my novella. In Byron Cane’s Sir MacRath Thrashes his Valentine, MacRath is a centuries-old vampire returning home after decades of absence. It is 1854 in steampunk London, and Her Majesty has appointed MacRath Her Chastiser of Loose Morals. Phoebe Hayward is a lady of good breeding, but quite a handful. Despite discovering the man ordered to discipline her is actually a vampire, she can’t help falling in love. MacRath will ensure she is well punished and dominated in all ways as befits his naughty Valentine.

Purchase Lust in Lace on Amazon Kindle. Click picture to go to Amazon.

  • Corrupted

    Now available, "Corrupted", an anthology from Sexy Little Pages, including my short story, Ghosting Past Emily. Click the picture for ebookstore links.

  • Ghosting Past Emily — part of the Corrupted anthology

    After Amsterdam and Berlin, Tokyo was her favorite place to explore the latest in technological sexuality. Unlike in Europe though, in Japan she would always be gaijin, and the locals off limits to her needs. On the crowded streets of Ginza she felt the stares and heard the unspoken contempt, Go back to where you came from, which was something it had in common with America. She was too tall, too confident, too yellow and most of all, too female. She channeled the perceived insults into taboo actions.
    It was a tired and bitter Emily that touched down ten hours later in a San Francisco of bone-chilling damp and a watery rising sun. She needed a hard session at the Armory before returning to work on Monday. Her slave had better be ready to grovel and be pussy-whipped.

  • Purchase: The Case of the Disciplined Valentine

    Click the picture to purchase, The Case of the Disciplined Valentine.

  • The Case of the Disciplined Valentine

    A comedy of Victorian manners mixed with delicious spankings and sexual encounters guaranteed to raise even a vampire’s blood pressure. Byron Cane sets a torrid pace in his historical paranormal erotic novella.

    It is 1854 in steampunk London, and Sir Nachton MacRath is warily returning to his home isle after decades abroad. He has good reasons to steer clear of the Royal Family, but is immediately snared by the Queen herself, who anoints him, Her Chastiser of Loose Morals, complete with elevation to the upper reaches of the aristocracy. Rather than a quiet existence as a vampire, he is now a Peer uneasily rubbing shoulders with the most powerful men in the Empire.

    Phoebe Hayward is a lady of good breeding, but like all her contemporaries, longs for some excitement and romance. Valentine’s Day is only weeks away, when their paths cross with a bump. Despite later discovering the man ordered to discipline her is actually a vampire, she can’t help falling in love. The more encounters with Sir MacRath she has, the more her body yearns to know what it is to submit to his vampiric touch. When he reluctantly agrees to be her Valentine, thus begins a Domination and discipline the likes of which she’s never dreamed.

    MacRath doesn’t feel he deserves Phoebe’s love, and attempts to push her away by taking her deeper into sexual submission. She surprises him — and herself — by eagerly submitting to his every desire. Together, they explore the sensual heights that a woman and a man — a vampire — can reach. But politics and conflict are never far away, and the Valentine’s Day deadline comes all too soon.

    Note: The original version of this book was included in the Lust in Lace paranormal romance anthology.

  • Purchase: The Spanking Misadventures of Stephanie

    Purchase The Spanking Misadventures of Stephanie by clicking the picture.

    Pity poor Stephanie: twenty-five years old and still spanked daily. She was intelligent, a college graduate with honors, articulate, a fashionista with a good job and an all-round delightful person with never a cross word and always a genuine smile for everyone. It was to her misfortune that she also exuded an innocent sensual charm, leading both men and women to have one uppermost thought in their minds: spanking Stephanie’s spectacular and epic rounded bottom. It was not her fault; genetics had blessed her with both the ideal rear end and a delightful bewildered submissiveness. It simply never occurred to her to challenge her discipline. If someone needed to spank her, well, obviously she was guilty of some offense and thus deserved to be spanked.
    When Stephanie crashes (quite literally) into the life of Ross, high flying exec in the fashion world and eligible bachelor, she is stupefied he wants her as his. Under Ross’ tutelage, as Brat to his Sir, she learns that she can be spanked for more than just being naughty! And Ross — he discovers there’s much more to Stephanie than just her submissive need to be disciplined, as he falls more and more in love.
    A brilliantly funny, light-hearted, spanking erotic romance novella by Byron Cane, with memorable characters and a beautiful love story interwoven into the sexiness, lending a contemporary twist to the princess fairy tale.

  • Lust in Spring

    Click picture to go to Lust in Spring Amazon page

  • Lust in Spring anthology

    In Byron Cane's, The Witch of Olympus Hollow, it’s 1952, and Gale Johnson is outraged when her parents send her packing to a tiny town in Appalachia to visit the mysterious great aunt she has never met. In the foothills of North Carolina, Gale will discover a wondrous birthright. A lifetime of discipline and sexual satisfaction awaits, but her destiny comes at a cost.
  • Lust in Lace

    Purchase Lust in Lace on Amazon Kindle. Click picture to go to Amazon.

  • Lust in Lace anthology

    In Byron Cane's Sir MacRath Thrashes his Valentine, MacRath is a centuries-old vampire returning home after decades of absence. It is 1854 in steampunk London, and Her Majesty has appointed MacRath Her Chastiser of Loose Morals. Phoebe Hayward is a lady of good breeding, but quite a handful. Despite discovering the man ordered to discipline her is actually a vampire, she can’t help falling in love. MacRath will ensure she is well punished and dominated in all ways as befits his naughty Valentine.
  • PNRLUST

  • Paranormal Erotic Romance

    Come visit the Paranormal Erotic Romance website for information about the Lust anthology series. Read Lust by the Sea, Lust on the Wing, Lust in Tooth and Claw, Lust in Winter and Lust in Lace.

  • ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’ Oops. Does that date me? These are the top posts.

  • Back writing 6/30/16 short stories and a spanking novel