by Neil Dominik
INTRODUCING THE DOMINANT MAN: Susan Briggs, aka Lavinia De Courselle, is a writer of erotic fiction. She lives in a secluded cottage on the edge of the countryside, and one day opens the door to a tall dark and intensely dominant stranger. He berates her, blames her for his wife leaving him for a dominant lifestyle man after reading one of her books, and then takes his revenge by spanking her bare bottom. This has the effect of injecting a whole new dynamic into her prose - she has a potential best seller within her grasp!
BAD UNCLE DENIS: Christine, an impoverished recovering drug addict, moves in with her uncle-in-law. While supporting and caring for her, Denis admits that he will spank her when she misbehaves. On one occasion, Christine comes home drunk, and this earns her six of the best with the cane - and a surprising confession from Uncle Denis. This in turn, leads to the beginnings of a whole new relationship.
THE BOX: This is a sweet story about an old man, his greedy offspring keen to ingratiate themselves for any inheritance. It transpires that his grown granddaughter Natasha is quite fond of spanking games - she certainly has the bottom for it! But will she get any money her Grandad might leave, or will his fortune go the cat sanctuary? Or perhaps she stands to inherit something infinitely more precious.
DANCING CAN WAIT: A moderately handicapped school girl feels left out of normal activities because the Principal refuses to paddle her. She tells a somewhat bemused teacher that she deserves to be paddled as she has been repeatedly late for school. Forcing her father to authorize 'equal treatment' she gets the paddling she deserves and feels less different due to her disability. Her changed status even earns her respect from her peers - and Troy in particular.
ELIZA: Elderly Len has very vivid dreams, recently featuring the most attractive Eliza who is noticeably more elegant than the young girls in the day care centre. Eliza is in serious need of severe discipline, which despite his lack of mobility he finds he is able to administer. These dreams are definitely much more satisfying than those with which his nights used to be filled!
THE FAIRY SPANKMOTHER GOES TO UNIVERSITY: The fairy spankmother's next mission is a difficult one. Her target is a feminist lecturer at the university, who is far too cynical for her own good. It takes some magic but the deed is done, just payment to collect now!
FOUND OUT: Elaine arrives home to discover her lover Kirsty whom she considers her partner, seated in the living room with her husband John. Not realising that each was aware of the other's existence, she is even more surprised to discover that they have a joint punishment planned for her. She is instructed to change into her sexy nightie and soon discovers just how severe the punishment will be!
I MUST NOT MESS AROUND WITH LAURA HAMPTON: Susan returns home to another caning after once again succumbing to her friend Laura's influence. The punishment is completed with a reward.
IFFY MIFFY: It seemed easy enough, at the time of making the appointment, to find the location of the sexy Welsh Dominatrix, Miss Jones. The pervy traveller eventually arrives and checks in, and eagerly awaits the first session of the evening. But he is in for a big surprise - and it involves a selection of Welsh vegetables!
JAN'S MAKEUNDER: Carole walking out on him when she finds out he's a spanko, hits Alan very hard. Jan, a Lesbian friend, has a plan to help him get back his life, and make him into the Top he aspires to be. Alan meets Jan's partner, Liz and proves he can handle various instruments. A Spanking party is next and at the end Alan is a new, confident Dom. He is curious as to why these women have done all this to help him, and the answers are somewhat surprising.
OLD-FASHIONED WAYS: Ken Wilkinson considers himself fortunate to be winding down his banking career in the quiet coastal resort of Seahaven. Even the business's only excitement, a case involving the Fraud Squad, turns out to be a domestic matter dealt with inside the family - with the aid of a slipper. When the same offender is brought to Ken as a potential employee, he and his staff have their strategy worked out! Old-fashioned banking is certainly not boring.
SINGAPORE STING: Rachel, a flight attendant, has an overnight stop in Singapore. Unfortunately her medications breach local laws and she has to submit to a bare bottomed caning in room 348 from an excise officer for importing drugs with intent to supply. But is everything as straightforward as it appears on the surface ...?
THY ROD AND STAFF: Katrina is a girl in serious need of direction and through meeting 'Sir' at a munch, has found her way. This older man proves to be her 'Good Shepherd' and his rod and staff more than comforts her as she turns from a scruffy girl to a composed and self-assured woman.
TROUBLE AT T'MILL: Shirley is going to line-dancing classes - or so she tells her husband. In fact, she's attending a fetish club where things go horribly wrong when she tells prospective spanker what to do in no uncertain terms. Unfortunately, she fails to realise who he is, and things get nasty when she does. But she isn't the only one keeping a secret!
WENDY, WENDY: Kath is shocked when Wendy, who she had bullied mercilessly at school, joins the company she works for. She has to talk to Wendy about it and even offers to let Wendy cane her. Wendy takes her up on the offer and gives Kath the most severe caning she has ever had. She shows pictures to her husband, Nathan, who is very interested and has a question to ask his wife - the very same question Kath asks her Dom.
Prologue:
He eased the new Audi A5 Coupe into the nearside lane at the first sign for the turn off to Barnsley, half-expecting his sat-nav to suddenly spring to life and begin to offer directions in a flat, broad Yorkshire monotone. He'd been up the M1 before, of course, to assignments in Leeds or York but his services had never hitherto been required in the vicinity of Barnsley - however, at the exit roundabout, the sat-nav directed him in the opposite direction.
He drove through a series of dull villages with a run-down, semi-urban air, former mining communities shorn of their livelihood and reason for existence, before turning down a side road. Old Rectory, he thought, bound to be next to a church. And, indeed, the refined female sat-nav voice told him that he had reached his destination at an ancient but fairly weather-beaten stone church, where the notice board informed him that there was now only a monthly service and that, should he feel the need to offer worship, receive spiritual counsel or be considering a wedding or baptism, there was a vicar available in another village in the vicinity. Needing none of those things, he turned in at the gate of a large, agreeable-looking cottage adjoining the church, walked up to a large wooden door and rapped the brass knocker.
Narrative:
Susan Briggs unconsciously primped her hair as she heard the knocker, maybe it was the parcel delivery man who was quite dishy, or the meter reader who was more mundane and also overdue. But when she opened the door she realised it was neither of these men but a proverbial tall dark stranger, slim, well-dressed and even sexier-looking than the parcel guy, except that his face was marred by an ugly scowl. He didn't wait to be invited but rudely pushed his way into the cottage and closed the door behind him, causing Susan to shrink in apprehension. He began to speak with an elegant but sinister drawl:
"So, I've tracked you down, Miss Briggs - or, should I say - Lavinia De Courcelle!"
Susan started at the rare mention of her pen name, but the man continued:
"Despite you hiding away in this back of beyond, I drew what I wanted from your agent as soon as I gave him the impression that I was interested in the TV rights to your latest novel. But that's not what I'm really here for, is it?"
"Isn't it?" gasped Susan, realising how easily Patrick had been lured into giving away her personal information.
"No," said the man. "You see, my wife went into Waterstones recently for some romantic rubbish and bought 'Fifty Shades Of Grey'. Well, she enjoyed it so much that she went to see what else there was from the same stable. And she came back clutching your heap of trash!"
Despite having her writing so callously dismissed, Susan felt a sudden thrill at picturing her novel being on a prominent stand at a major bookseller's, and housewives flicking through the pages and squirming with awakened desire before furtively sidling to the cash desk.
"She liked that one even more, would you believe. So much so that she's walked out on me and into the arms of a balding guy in his mid-fifties who drives a council van and describes himself as a 'Lifestyle dominant', whatever that's supposed to mean. What do you have to say to that?"
Susan winced and squirmed, but with embarrassment.
"It's only meant to be a fantasy," she explained lamely, but with a secret warm glow that at least one person had turned her scribblings into reality, however wantonly and wilfully.
"Well, I'm holding you responsible," said the man. He glanced round the low-beamed cottage; dolls in frilly national costume and twee wall hangings graced the room, and a fat ginger cat waddled in from the kitchen.
"All those whippings, tying up and silly costumes, I bet you've never had proper sex with a real man," he declared and for a few moments of horror tinged with a spark of delight, Susan thought that he was going to ravish her.
"No such luck," he growled, as if reading her feelings. "But this is what you deserve, and what you're going to get!"
And, with one swift movement, he grabbed her and dragged her down on to the settee, where he draped her across his knee and pinioned one arm behind her back. He flipped up her voluminous skirt, then began to spank her hard across her panties, despite said panties declaring Susan Briggs to be an angel in bold red letters on a taut white background.
Susan yelped and wriggled, but worse was to come. Growing tired of the angelic wording, the man yanked the panties down and continued the spanking across her two bare mounds, now turning deep pink. He spanked for a good ten minutes as the outraged yelps turned into piteous cries of pain and the pink gave way to a deep angry scarlet. Finally he threw her away from him with disgust, and Susan landed in an undignified heap on the floor, sobbing as she scrabbled to make herself decent.
"There!" said the man. "Now what did you think of that?"
"Th...thank you, sir!" mumbled Susan.
"Now I reckon I'll go and do the same to my so-called wife, if I can find her," he said. He eyed Susan critically.
"I'd stick to those doctor and nurse romances if I were you," he advised. "You're a bloody menace to credulous women with all that bondage and adultery stuff!"
Then he straightened his suit, and walked out of the door.
Epilogue:
Susan's settee and easy chairs were of comfortable dark blue velour, but even so there was nothing easy about sitting in them for Susan; she winced, rose and instead leant over the back of the settee contemplating life, the universe and her fiery throbbing buttocks.
Bloody Patrick with his metrosexual savvy, telling her that prospective publishers would demand more immediacy and urgency, and that he knew someone who just might help her find it. Trouble is, Patrick had been right and she knew it. She wondered whether the man's not inconsiderable cost could be offset against authorial research expenses. She was, she realised, getting quite hungry. But not yet, not yet.
She moved into the office and, with a grimace of pain, forced her behind on to the hard office chair. She switched on her PC. Then she began to type as the words trickled on to the screen, then tumbled and flowed effortlessly into a torrent of hot, raunchy prose. She'd get this one published for sure, she told herself.
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