Tag Archives: bottom

Saturday Spanks: Her Spanking Has Just Begun – Cassie and the Fire Captain

Saturday Spankings

It’s Saturday Spankings time! Which means I get to share some more from my brand new release, Cassie and the Fireman.

Cassie is over Eric’s lap.

And Eric is about to start a fire of his own – on her bare backside…

 

“Loosen up.” He patted her gently. “I don’t want to bruise you.”

 She nodded her head and softened her round cheeks, and he began again in earnest, spanking left, then right, then center, watching as each slap wiggled her fleshy backside. The rosy color intensified and he picked up the pace. He needed to make this a good, hard spanking, one that would release all of her guilt. Giving her a few more firm swats, he paused and lifted her to her feet.

 “Is it over?” she sniffled, rubbing her pink bottom.

 “The warm-up is.”

 

Blurb:

When twenty-four-year-old Cassie Stevens meets Eric Waters, her town’s hunky new fire captain, she assumes he is way out of her league. Cassie isn’t a beauty queen like her mother, and a mature, no-nonsense man like Eric would never be attracted to a fun-loving tomboy like her, especially considering her penchant for getting herself in trouble. So it comes as a shock when he stops by the diner where she works, steers her out of an altercation with some rude customers, and promptly asks her out on a date.

It doesn’t take Cassie long to realize that she has finally met the man of her dreams, and Eric seems to enjoy her sense of humor and playful ways. But after she pulls a foolish prank on him during their first date, he takes her over his knee for a spanking, and she quickly discovers how much a man’s firm hand can sting when applied to a naughty girl’s bare bottom.

Eric’s attention and affection make Cassie feel more loved than she has ever felt before, and despite her sore bottom, his discipline leaves her aroused and yearning to be his. But just as she’s about to give him her heart, it seems he’s no longer interested. Can Cassie put aside her fears and trust Eric, or will her doubts set off a chain of events which will tear their relationship apart?

Publisher’s Note: Cassie and the Fire Captain is an erotic romance novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

 Buy on Amazon

Barnes and Noble

AllRomance

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Thanks for stopping by! You can see all the other awesome excerpts by clicking on the link below. 🙂

Happy spanks!

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Sometimes, a gal just wants to be spanked!

Bad, naughty Zoot! You must spank her well. And then, spank me.

Bad, naughty Zoot!
You must spank her well.
And then, spank me.

Sometimes a gal just needs to be spanked.

Ok, I’m in one of THOSE moods again. I can’t really explain it.

I’m flighty, hyper, my attention won’t hold for 15 minutes, let alone long enough to finish the blog post I need to finish. My head is spinning with a gazillion (bajillion any better?) thoughts that are just out of my reach.  All I can think about right now, is the one thing that got me here to begin with.

Spanking

I’m having another day where I just can’t get IT out of my head. The sounds, the glorious feeling, the warmth, the heat, the connection with my spanker, and dare I say, the arousal that almost always comes from this.

I love spankings!

I love being spanked (by my husband. Don’t get me wrong. I have fantasized about other men taking me in hand before, but I know this is fantasy, and that my hubby would be hurt by me accepting another man’s attentions.  So that stays in the realm of fantasy.)

I stare longingly, while watching a session on spankingtube, living vicariously through another woman’s delightful bottom warming.

Sometimes, I watch school girls get spanked by head mistresses. It is fun, and kind of silly.  Sometimes, I watch men take their women over their knees for play.

Sometimes, I see a man discipline his wife for something like overspending or texting while driving.  (I can empathize and realistically envision this scenario, since I am one to overspend when I get stressed.)

Some of the scenes seem real, some are acted out.

Usually I don’t care. If the spanking is good and hard, I will give some leeway on acting skills.

I prefer the scenes that are just about the spanking, instead of showing private sexual encounters. I like sharing their spanking scene, but don’t want to share their further intimacy. Which is ironic, because I love READING about sex after spankings, and often times find myself so aroused after my own spankings that I initiate the further actions with my hubby.

The point is I love thinking about IT,

Seeing IT,

Hearing IT,

And most of all, feeling IT.

Watching a spanking video gives me the opportunity to receive most of my spanking input.  I watch, mesmerized as the woman’s bare bottom bounces up and down, reddening with each firm smack. I like it when she wiggles around and tries to escape, creating in me the vision of non-consensual punishment, and a need to escape.  It is delicious.

I get very aroused watching these, and picture myself in these scenes.  I can easily picture myself squealing and wiggling over my HOH’s lap, as he attacks my poor bottom.  I shudder, shimmy, whimper, and moan, while he continues his show of dominance over me, on my bare bottom.  (Sometimes, I get so aroused by visualizing a glorious OTK session.  I wake up hubby, so we can finish the next sequence of delightful events. He has not complained yet. 🙂)

But I love most of all, to put it all together into one big scene that my HOH and I take part in – our own spanking scene.  Sometimes, it is for discipline, sometimes for maintenance and role affirmation, and sometimes for fun.  To be perfectly honest, I will almost happily accept any of it.

I like to be spanked.

Our first role play scene involved hubby forcing me over his knee and paddling me into submission. I tried to escape the onslaught of his hard, fast hand. I bucked and bounced, I cried out, and begged him to stop.  His lap was so hard, his hand even harder. Again and again, he spanked, leaving no portion of my bottom and thighs untouched, choosing to sometimes attack the same spot. I howled and begged some more, as he threw his leg over my legs, and shushed me.

(I wanted him to call me “naughty”, and tell me to “take what I had coming to me like a good girl”. But alas, he wasn’t quite ready for that much acting. )

After a very long, intense session, that included his hand, a few wooden implements, and a belt, I finally lay in a heap over his lap- worn out, my sore bottom aching and hot, feeling loved and content and peaceful. (And completely aroused)

This is what spanking does for me.  I can fantasize about it, read it, watch it, listen to it, or receive it.  They all fill a void in me, and ground me, and help me connect with myself and my HOH.

And when I don’t receive any of this stimulation, I feel agitated, easily angered, tired, unfocused, and sometimes, even a little bit unloved.

Spanking brings me back to life somehow.

It invigorates me, and gives me a chance to be still and focus.

Most of all, it gives me a chance to revel in who I am – the real me.

My name is Katherine Deane.

I am a Spanko.

And right now, I could really use a good, long, bare bottom spanking.

The painful side effects of lactose

woman_yoga_beach

*This is a true story from Saturday afternoon*

*******

I gave hubby one last glare, and huffed towards the bedroom in search of Jammy pants – loose ones. Very loose ones.

It turns out I had eaten gluten for lunch, and I had eaten chocolate covered berries (lactose) the night before. My tummy was NOT in the best of moods. I was angry, passive aggressive, bloated and gassy- the worst of combinations after coming home from vacation.

Hubby followed me into our room, and locked the door.

Uh oh. 

“Um, my tummy still doesn’t feel the greatest, but at least I don’t feel like puking anymore,” I offered with a half smile.

“Ok,” he led the way into the bathroom, and turned on the overhead fan.

The fan that drowns out the noises of repetitive striking of flesh on flesh. It’s the spanking fan.

He took me by the shoulders, and looked deep into my eyes.

“Why have you been so grumpy today? Why the passive aggression? What is going on?”

‘I don’t know, I’m tired,’ definitely didn’t cut it this time.

I tried to explain how unhappy I was, and that I just couldn’t shake myself out of the negativity. But the words just didn’t want to come.

So he carefully peeled my shorts and panties to my knees, and bent me over the bathroom sink.

He asked if this was hurting my stomach. I told him no, that pressing over his knee would probably have dreadful consequences for both of us, but THIS… this was ok.

SMACK!

I flinched at the first strike on my bottom. I always flinch with the first one. It’s not that it hurts. I think the sound scares me more than anything.

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

He slowly increased the intensity and the pace.

He proceeded like this for another minute, heating my bottom thoroughly. I was finally able to talk.

“I wasted two and half hours this morning,” I whined. “I could have written a blog post, a review, my WIP, anything! But I couldn’t focus. And I made it into a joke on Facebook. But it wasn’t funny!”

I sniffled and shimmied my bottom back and forth. He was listening as he spanked.

He gave me one particularly hard swat, and told me to continue.

“Mmf! I accidentally ate gluten today, and now I’m plump,” I was holding back the tears and clenching my fists onto the sink. “I HATE being plump!”

He continued spanking, slowly, methodically as I explained how angry I was about:

not accomplishing anything,

the messy house,

my painfully fat / gassy belly,

how disappointed I was that we might not be able to have our “together” time. (Ok, it has been over two weeks! And he has already expressed an interest in some “new stuff”. Come on, already!)

He stopped his assault on my poor throbbing bottom, and pulled me up into his arms.

“Is there anything else?” he asked.

“I LOST MY CHOCOLATE!” I broke down in gut wrenching sobs.

“What do you mean? You mean you can’t find it, you misplaced it?” he pulled me off his drenched shirt, and met my eyes.

To his credit, he didn’t laugh or smile. This was a very big deal to me. I was hurting.

“I just found out that my chocolate…” I sniffled, “my chocolate…”

“What about your chocolate?” he asked.

“My chocolate has lactose in it!” I wailed and buried my head into his chest again.

“Ok, listen up!” he said bringing out the old bit of Army in him. (We met in the Army. And man, he does Command presence and authority like nobody I’ve ever seen)

I sniffled and met his eyes.

“Listen,” he continued, “ I know of a LOT of women who are gluten or lactose intolerant. There is no way in H*ll that they would give up chocolate. We will find you some chocolate that you can eat without hurting your tummy, ok?”

“Yes, Sir,” I started crying again.

“Do you want me to help you out of the rest of this mood?”

I nodded and bent back over the sink.

I cried and grunted and sniffled and snotted. But I did not move out of place. The next 5 minutes hurt. (I have the red, swollen bottom to prove it.) But this was something I really needed.

When every last tear had fallen, and every painful swat delivered, it was over.

He held me in his arms, stroking my back as I leaned into him, breathing, leaning, re centering.

Something had released in me.

I don’t know what exactly, but it was something big and negative.

I could finally breathe again.

My bottom was red, hot, swollen and tender.

But my heart was free, and my head was clear.

I thanked hubby, and apologized.

I’m not sure why all those little things bugged me so much today.  But they did, and they escalated until they were suffocating the joy out of me and those closest to me.

After we kissed and made up, hubby sent me in to do some writing.

I have started with this blog post.

Next comes my WIP.

After that, I am going hunting for some chocolate. Without lactose.