Saturday, September 28, 2013

How Much Spanking Is Enough? #SatSpanks

Today's snippet comes from Aching To Submit. Kyan, the club owner, is using a paddle on Sophie while Michael, her husband, watches her as she takes the punishment. Kyan has become a sort of mentor to Michael - teaching him what his wife needs and wants.

In reality, if your partner isn't naturally inclined to kink, there's definitely a learning curve and it's not always easy for them to understand how much we can take and how much we want to take. In this scene, Michael learns.

It gets pretty hot after this piece but here are my allotted sentences worth… I hope you enjoy.

* * * *
“She can take more than you think,” Kyan said to Michael, his breath shorter as he continued to spank her while speaking.

“Look at her expression, her eyes; her pupils are dilated. Her face is soft. She’s crying softly, but it’s nowhere near too much or even enough at this point.”

Michael nodded in understanding, watching his wife’s face, listening to the sounds she made. Her lips were swollen, her mouth slightly open, her eyes red from crying but soft, just soft. 

Friday, September 27, 2013

Thursday, September 26, 2013

A Prostitute in her Husband's Bedroom

Renee Rose is here sharing a little piece from The Reddington Scandal, her new regency. Do you remember Teddy from The Westerfield Affair? I do…I'm so glad she wrote his story. Here she is…

 * * * *

Thank you, Natasha for inviting me to your blog! I’m pimping The Reddington Scandal today, my latest Regency spanking romance. Here’s the scoop:

When Phoebe’s brother-in-law catches the notorious rake Lord Fenton in his home late at night, half-dressed and obviously attempting escape, he flies into a rage, threatening to kill both his wife and Lord Fenton. In a desperate measure to avert bloodshed, Phoebe claims she is Lord Fenton’s lover, thereby forcing him to take her as his wife to avoid a scandal.

Knowing full well a philanderer like Teddy Fenton could never remain faithful, Phoebe insists upon separate bedrooms, resolving to resist his charm rather than fall in love and face the pain of his inevitable infidelity. Her handsome husband respects her request for a marriage in name only, but his marital dominance manifests itself in other ways. She soon learns that while he will not force her to his bed, Teddy is more than willing to take her over his knee and spank her bare bottom when her behavior warrants it.

Doubting his ability to stay faithful and not wishing to replicate his parents’ miserable existence, Teddy had never intended to take a wife, until he was forced to marry the lovely Phoebe Fletcher and everything changed. Suddenly other women hold no allure for him, and he wants nothing more than to win the affection of his new bride. But just when it seems he might succeed, secrets from her past threaten to destroy their chance at happiness. Can this couple come to love one another as befits a man and wife, or will their marriage end in scandal after all?


The trouble with marrying a rake is the multitude of women who might try to reinsert themselves into their lives. Although Phoebe has insisted on a marriage in name only and granted her new husband permission to continue his affairs with other women, when push comes to shove, it seems she feels differently. Here’s what happens when a prostitute shows up in Teddy’s bedroom (uninvited!)...

“I don't recall inviting you,” she heard the slow drawl of her husband.
            Inviting? Who says such a thing to a woman who has been let into his bedroom?
            “Yes, well, it's been a long time since you've come to the bordello. I've missed you.”
            A light-skirt. Damn him. Damn her. Damn them both. How dare he allow her to entertain him here, in his home, with her in the room next door?
            “In other words, you need a few coins.”
            “Don't be cross, my lord,” she said, her voice sultry and coaxing. “It's not as if you haven't invited me here before.”
            “Yes, but I did not invite you this time.”
            Anger bubbled over and she got out of bed, throwing the door open and standing in it, her hands on her hips. The lady was a high-class courtesan, dressed in satin, with a string of pearls around her neck. For some reason, that bothered her even more. “Get out!” she said coldly. “Get out of my house!”
            “Teddy? Is this your sister?”
            “No,” Teddy said sardonically. “She is Lady Fenton, my wife.” He placed a bookmark in the book he'd been reading and set it on the bed. He did not stand up, but merely lounged on the bed, looking from the courtesan to her with amused interest.
            “I asked you to leave. If you will not, I will have you thrown out of this house.”
            The light-skirt looked at Teddy, as if expecting him to defend her right to be there. Anger produced a rushing sound in her ears. She strode over to the prostitute, fully prepared to slap her. Perhaps guessing what she had in mind, Teddy chose that moment to rise to his feet. He raised his eyebrows. “You heard her. The lady of the house asked you to leave. You will do so. Now.”
            She clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides, gritting her teeth through the woman's low curtsy and departure. When she shut the door, Phoebe turned and glared at Teddy, picked up one of the books from his shelf and hurled it at him.
            He dodged it. “Phoebe, that is not acceptable.”
            Not acceptable? Entertaining a “Bit 'o Muslin” in one's own home was not acceptable. She picked up another book and hurled it.
            “Enough. Put that down,” he said sharply when she picked up the looking glass. But the satisfaction of breaking something was too much. She hurled it against the wall, disappointed when it only broke into a few pieces, rather than providing a full shatter. His silver snuff box fit in her hand like a heavy stone, and it she threw it at him before she could think properly. It struck his head with a thud that rattled her own teeth. She gasped, covering her mouth with both hands, all her heat turning cold.
            He stumbled backward, cursed and hit the wall, doubling over for a moment with his hand over his forehead.
            “Forgive me,” she whispered. Fear coursed through her veins, turning her hands to ice. She had hurt him—badly. She felt terrible—she hadn't meant to hurt him. How angry would he be? Would he turn violent?
            He stood upright with another curse, his hand covering his forehead, a trickle of blood spilling from underneath it. But he did not appear out of temper. Apart from the blood, he looked as unruffled as he had when she'd entered the room and ordered the prostitute to leave. He withdrew a handkerchief and blotted the blood from his head and hands.
“I will punish for that, Phoebe,” he said coolly.

Renee Rose, a erotic romance author, did not come out of the closet as a spanko until she published her spanking romance Betrothed. A lifelong writer, she has a B.A. in creative writing from Knox College, where she won the Davenport prize for both fiction and poetry, and the Lorraine Smith prize for literary criticism. She spent thirteen years in technical writing before she found a way to incorporate her deepest darkest spanking fantasies into fiction and express a part of her that longed to see the light. She is now passionate about supporting others in accepting and exploring their kink, whatever that may be.  Visit her blog and join the conversation!

She can also be found on:

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

7 Characteristics of a Daddy Dom

I have Normandie Alleman here today talking about the Daddy Dom and her new book, Daddy Morebucks! Here she is...

Understandably people often confuse the Daddy/little girl dynamic of a BDSM relationship with a desire to have sex with underaged girls, girls wanting to have sex with their fathers, or having a penchant for incest. This is simply not the case. 

The Daddy Dom/little girl (or baby girl) relationship doesn’t reflect a true father/daughter relationship. Instead, it is a D/s relationship which fulfills a fantasy of both parties. On the Dom’s part it satisfies his desire to be needed and to nurture and protect his “little girl.” As for her part, the “little girl” is allowed to put aside some of the responsibilities of adulthood and indulge her inner child, knowing that her partner will take care of her. 

Age play is a separate dimension to this relationship dynamic. Some little girls and their Daddies engage in age play. Some don’t. 

So what characterizes a Daddy Dom? 

A Daddy Dom:

  1. Wants to provide his little girl with her every need and be the center of her universe.
  2. Believes in her more than she believes in herself.
  3. Shapes and molds his little girl to help her reach her highest potential.
  4. Takes great pride in her and loves to show her off.
  5. Makes discipline a priority in their lives.
  6. Gives his submissive acceptance. (He knows all her dirty little secrets and loves her anyway.)
  7. Acts as an authority figure in his little girl’s life, but he also brings a degree of caring and ritual to the role that she craves.
“Nurturing” and “protective” seem to be the hallmark characteristics that set Daddy Doms apart from other style Doms. They dote on their little girls and in turn, their little girls worship them and make them the center of their worlds. 

My new release, “Daddy Morebucks” is Book One in The Daddy’s Girl Series. I’m a big fan of this relationship dynamic and have six more books planned. Here’s an excerpt: 

                                                                         * * * *

James paced the floor. Back and forth. His shoes threatened to wear a path into the rug.

Where was she? She knew she was supposed to check in, but she hadn’t.

She said she was going to a movie. Had texted him about that. But the showing should have been over hours ago. Where could she be?

And why didn’t she answer her phone? Or respond to his texts? His stomach tightened.

Her car was in the garage. She must have ridden with someone else. Supposedly she was with Charmaine, but he didn’t know that number…

His gut lurched. What if she wasn’t with Charmaine? What if she were with another guy? Or worse, injured in an accident…

Grab a hold of yourself. People are late all the time for good reasons. Traffic. Things happen. It could be anything.

Forcing himself to sit down, he reached for the remote control. Maybe watching television would distract him. He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on SportsCenter. How did he keep finding himself in this predicament? He frowned. Usually women waited for him. His time was valuable. Too valuable to be stuck waiting around for a girl too self-involved or headstrong to obey his rules. His anger swelled.

The jangle of the phone startled him. It was a text from Marley.

“Sorry, Daddy. Went to dinner with Charmaine and Kimberly and forgot to tell you. Please forgive me. On my way home now.”

A wave of relief washed over him. Thank God. She was okay.

Now that he knew she was okay, his thoughts turned to consequences. He’d never really had to punish Marley. He’d spanked her a few times, but nothing significant. She was a well-behaved sub most of the time, but this kind of mistake could not be repeated. It was important that she understand the rules; that he was in charge. She must obey them. Or there would be repercussions.

Rules with no consequences were ineffective. He’d have to come up with something that would serve as a deterrent. He tapped a finger on the side table and considered the possibilities. When he heard her enter the apartment, he was prepared.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry.” She tossed her purse to the side and rushed to him, showering him with kisses. “I totally forgot to call you. I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her face forlorn.

He hugged her to him. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried. Are you aware of that?” His voice was firm, almost harsh.

Fidgeting, she replied, “I guess, but I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t intend to do it; the point is you broke the rule. Rules are in place for a reason, Marley. This rule is for your safety and my peace of mind. I’m disappointed that you selfishly disregarded it. In this case you caused me unnecessary worry. And for that you shall be punished.”

“But Daddy…” she protested.

“But Daddy what?”

She lowered her head. “It’s just—I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. It is not enough. Now go into your bedroom and strip naked. When I come in there I want you naked and kneeling on the floor with your hands behind your back.”

“But Daddy!” Her voice shook with fear.

                                                                          Daddy Morebucks

From the moment she laid eyes upon him, Marley knew in her heart that James was not just another client, and the difference wasn’t even the large sum of money he offered in return for a single night of submission. No, what set him apart was the fact that when she called James “daddy”, it was her own heart which beat faster and her own body which ached with need.

After that night, Marley does her best to put all thought of him behind her, using the huge payday he provided to get on her feet again and start over… until James knocks on her door and walks right back into her life. He makes her a simple offer: if she will live with him and submit to him whenever he wishes, he will provide for her every desire.

Even before she accepts his offer, though, Marley knows what she truly wants is not money or clothing or even a fancy new car. What she longs for is a daddy who will give his little girl what she really needs… a daddy who will spank her bare bottom when she is naughty, tie her up and take her any way he pleases, and then cuddle her until she falls asleep in his arms. Can she dare to hope that James will be that daddy?

Read Chapter One of Daddy Morebucks FREE here:

Or pick up your copy of “Daddy Morebucks” today:

Amazon link:

Barnes & Noble: 


About the Author: 

A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of kids, her adorable husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull. 

Follow her on: 

Twitter at @NormandieA 

Pinterest at


Her website:

Monday, September 23, 2013

Submission and Trust

Posted on Spanking Romance on 9/23/2013

I've always known that trust is essential to submission. That was kind of a given. But having read the recent Round Table Discussions, I really thought about that trust for the first time.

Sometimes I look up the definitions of words I know the meaning of and am surprised at the true definitions, or maybe the way to say it is they add another layer to my understanding of the word.

There was one comment in particular that Gemini made about the gift of Dominance. As a sub, I am completely and selfishly focused on myself and this was interesting to read. In my post, I spoke about struggling with submission - wanting to give it but being unable to. After reading what Gemini wrote, something clicked for me. When giving the gift of submission, you must trust that the gift of Dominance will be given in return. It's like you have to trust that the one you are giving your submission to can take it, can accept it and give you back what you need - fill the lack with his Dominance.

In Aching To Submit, the blurb reads that Sophie hadn't told her husband of her kink out of fear of rejection. Yes, that's one side of things, but there's also the other side - maybe she wasn't sure or didn't trust that he could take it and give her back what she needed - his Dominance.

 * * * *

Once in the attic, she stripped off her clothes and folded them, setting them on top of one of the boxes. She laid the belt on the chair and chose a corner, touching her nose to it and clasping opposite elbows behind her back so her bottom would be displayed for him once he came up.

Michael’s dominant nature surprised her. No, that wasn’t it. He was dominant in every way, but the fact that he took on his new role with such zeal was what surprised her. There would be pain tonight; she wasn’t fool enough not to believe that. But she also believed there would be pleasure afterwards. Riding that fine line between the two opposites thrilled her, her submission itself almost better than the orgasm.

It was a good twenty minutes before she finally heard his step on the landing, and when she did her entire being shook with anticipation.

“Good choice,” he said, and she knew he must be looking at the belt.

She didn’t dare turn around until he called her to him after a few moments. He stood in front of the single chair that sat in the middle of the room on top of the rug. She made her way over to him.
He was shirtless and barefoot and she couldn’t help but look at the wide span of his shoulders, his powerful, muscular arms. “Bend over and put your hands on the seat of the chair,” he said. He wasn’t yet holding the belt.

She turned and did as he said, knowing to keep her legs wide as she supported her weight on her hands, looking straight down at the doubled-over belt. It wasn’t a moment before his fingers were massaging a cool cream over her anus.

“This plug is a little bigger than the last one,” he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse as his finger penetrated her tight ring. “I want it in your ass when I whip you.”

She made a sound, unable to manage words, taking in the not-unpleasant sensations.

“Good girl, that’s it,” he encouraged as he pulled his fingers out and began to insert the plug. With that she struggled a bit; he wasn’t kidding that it was bigger and thicker. Michael pressed it in and pulled it out, patient and slow, waiting for her to open and accept it. “You can take it, Soph, come on, open. Reach your hips back. That’s it. Push against it. Almost there.”

She made another sound as the thickest part penetrated and the plug was finally seated firmly inside her.
“You can straighten up,” Michael said. He went to wash his hands in the corner sink.

Sophie tightened her muscles around the plug, which was heavier than she’d anticipated. Michael returned with a pair of leather cuffs.

“Hold out your hands,” he said.

“You don’t have to bind…” she began.

“How many additional strokes do you think you deserve for speaking when you did not have permission to speak?”

She stared at him. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said quickly. “I just…”

“Ten more, then. Another word and we’ll make it twenty on top of what you’re already going to get.”

She stared at him, her mouth open, but luckily too smart to keep talking.

“Hold your hands out,” he said.

She extended them to him and he bound them in front of her before sitting down on the chair. “Lay yourself across my lap,” he said.

Sophie took a step to his side and held on to his thigh as she leaned forward, then put her hands to the floor. Once she was situated, he trapped both her legs between his and pulled her tight to him. She then felt the weight of the belt as he laid it over her low back.

“I like you like this,” he said, his hand circling her buttocks, then pressing on the base of the plug before dipping down into her pussy. “You’re wet, Soph, even for your punishment you’re wet. But pain before pleasure and this is going to hurt. Are you ready?”

“I don’t know, Sir,” she said, her voice wavering.

He chuckled and slapped her ass once, then caressed softly before repeating the motion on the other cheek. The caress was just momentary and only heightened her anxiety as she knew the strike that followed would be sharp and quick.

“Ow,” she said, already squirming.

“Oh, honey,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice, “this is nothing compared to what’s coming.”

He slapped harder and she struggled against each one, but with her hands bound as they were and her legs trapped between his, it was useless. When he picked up the belt, however, she shoved her full weight against him, trying to get free, panic overriding everything else.

Michael pulled her to him, holding her tight by her waist. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay, Soph. It’s me. You can take this; you’ll feel better for it.”

“Easy for you to say,” she cried.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, surprising her.

She turned her head to meet his eyes. “No.”

Her eyes, which had been dry until then, suddenly filled with tears that overflowed onto the carpet beneath her. “I don’t want you to stop. I’m just scared. I think I made a mistake. I think I should have chosen a different belt,” she cried.

He laughed out loud, but it wasn’t cruel. In fact, as he did it, he hugged her to him, rubbing her back. “Baby,” he began, “you think I’d have let you get away with that?” he asked. He was massaging her low back.

That was the moment she understood that he wouldn’t have let her off the hook.

Goose bumps covered the flesh over her entire body as this realization settled upon her. She exhaled and closed her eyes, relishing the release, the knowledge that she was safe here in his arms and that she could lean on him, that he would carry her. That he could carry her.