Monday, February 23, 2015

Spanked Over Forty

Stop over to Katherine Deane's blog today.  Her post features heroines over 40# and she's featured some of your favorite authors, including PK and believe it or not, me.  Show her and other authors brave enough to write characters who are not nubile young things anymore your support by reading and buying their books.

Ironically enough, I posted a story on my other blog today and the character is over 40. I've pasted it here, if you care to read.


Betty Burke was a middle-aged woman who had a mind of her own.  She married Bill Burke when she was twenty-five.  He was a no-good bum as far as she was concerned – he could never hold a job for more than six months at a time; he drank too much and gambled away whatever little money he did make.  She had wasted enough of her life with him, hoping things would change.

The day she left him she was unloading groceries when he came home and announced he had quit his job.  Right then and there she decided she was leaving the very next-day  – he had enough to eat for the next week, and the rent was paid til the end of the month, after that  he was on his own. That following morning, she packed her bag and left him a note on the kitchen table.  She got in her car on which she was still making payments, went to the bank, closed her account and drove out of town.  

No idea where she was going, Betty drove until she was tired and stopped in Springtown for gas and a bite to eat.  The café had a sign in the window for a waitress – she applied and was hired on the spot.  The gal who served her told her about Miss Lil who had a boarding house if she was interested.  She was interested all right, and after leaving the Westin Café drove to Miss Lil’s boarding house located at the end of Main Street. It was a large white Victorian, with rocking chairs on the porch and ferns hung from the rafters.  Betty pictured Miss Lil to be a little old white-haired lady who rented to boarders to subsidize her income.  Boy, was she wrong.  Miss Lil was a good fifteen years younger than her, and a widow whose husband left her the house.  It had belonged to his grandparents and their parents before then.  Some say it was haunted – but if it was, no one knew for sure, least of all Miss Lil.  Betty didn’t care one way or the other.

There were no other residents at the time, so Miss Lil rented Betty the best room in the house, after hers of course.  It was on the second floor, a large bright room with an en suite and a balcony.  The room was furnished with females in mind.  There was a large bed covered in a pale yellow coverlet with dainty white flowers along with a comfortable boudoir chair and ottoman, slip covered in ecru, as well as a small desk and chair.  The closet had built in shelves on one side and a hanging bar on the other. Betty loved it and felt she could be very comfortable. 

Miss Lil, who immediately became Lil, was a hoot.  Everyone knew her, and she was involved in every event held in Springtown, and the rest of the county for that matter.  She dragged Betty along whenever she wasn’t working and soon Betty felt as if she knew everyone in Springtown and had lived there forever. 

Lil put her in touch with Jim Branson, the local attorney to arrange the divorce from Bill. Jim Branson was a looker, a widower with grown children and once the business with Betty and Bill’s divorce concluded; he asked her to dinner.  He was a charming man, polite manners, great conversationalist, took her to the nicest places, and she enjoyed his company.  He chastely kissed her goodnight after each of their dates and after about the fifth date, she wondered if he was ever to take it any further.  When she received another chaste kiss, she tried taking the kiss to another level.  He pulled back and Betty was surprised.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“On the contrary,  Betty, I like you and enjoy being with you.”

“Then, what just happened?”

“There’s something about me that you don’t know, and that you need to know if you want to take this further.”

“You’re in good standing with the ABA, so you can’t be a criminal, everyone knows you’re a widower, there’s no gossip about you, so unless it’s a medical condition, I can’t imagine what I need to know.”  He laughed

“No, Betty it’s not a medical condition, and you need to know because you have to consent to be a willing participant.”

“Now my curiosity is peaked.”

“I’m an attorney and well known member of this community, what I have to tell you could jeopardize my standing if it becomes public knowledge.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t mean to, but I have to be very careful.  Can I trust you to keep my secret whether or not you choose to accept?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said with a grin and crossed her heart.

“Do you know what a Dom is?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Dominant derives from the Latin word dominus which means “lord or master.”  If you’re dominant, it means you treat others as if you’re their master. Dom is just a shorter version of a dominant. Now do you know what I mean?”

“It means you’re a control freak.”

“In a way, but it’s more than that.  I’m sure you’ve noticed I can be very brusque – it’s something I have to work at in my professional life, so I don’t offend clients.  I just like to get to the point, and I’m hem hawing around this.  The bottom line is I belong to and play at a private club, a BDSM club.

“B and D, bondage and discipline?”

“Yes.”

“Men like you making slaves of women?”

“Not always, sometimes it is the female who is the dominant.”  By this time in the conversation, Betty was in complete shock but still wanted to hear more.  “It’s all consensual.  I don’t go all the time, but it is an outlet for me.  When my wife was alive it was different, we played together.”

“Played – you played with your wife.”

“Yes, we learned very early on in our relationship; she was a submissive.  Domination doesn’t have to be a twenty-four seven thing.  For us it was sexual fun. We didn’t go into it as deeply as some, but we played with cuffs and ropes, as well as floggers and paddles.  It’s the same with other women.  Many fantasize about having a man take charge in the bedroom, and if she doesn’t find a partner to dance with, so to speak, she can join the club, and her fantasies become a reality.”

“Do you want to take me to this club?”

“If you want to, I can take you as my guest but there are rules and papers you have to sign first.  However, what I’m really telling you is that I would like to play with you, not necessarily at the club but at home.  Do you think you would be interested in this type of lifestyle – not all the time, mind you, but in the bedroom?  It doesn’t have to be every time but would once in a while appeal to you?”

“Wow, Jim, this is a lot to take in.  To say I’m surprised is an understatement, and I’m not saying no but I do have to think about it.  I really doubt I would ever want to visit the club, but never say never.”  He tucked a strand of her behind her ear, his fingers leaving a  behind a tingle.

“When you think you’re ready we can talk about this some more, but basically it comes down to I would love to have sex with you, I just don’t want it to always be vanilla.”

“Vanilla.”

He laughed.  “Yeah, it’s a term we use for people who don' have alternative sex."

This time when he reached in to kiss her, he took a nip at her lip. When she opened her mouth, he pushed his tongue into her mouth.  She immediately responded to this invasion and felt an effect she never expected – Jim felt it too.  Cupping her bottom, he brought her in closer until she could feel his erection.  He released her, and his smile told her he was hoping her answer would be yes to a future relationship.

He turned and left her then, calling out he would be waiting for her answer.  He was leaving the ball in her court.

A couple of days later, after thinking it to death, she called Jim.  “Okay, I’m willing to give it a try.”  He invited her to dinner at his place the following Friday night. 

                                          *****************

She was nervous as she rang Jim’s doorbell.  “Door’s open, c’mon in,” she heard from somewhere in the house.  He was walking toward the door, dressed in khakis and an olive-drab long-sleeve shirt rolled up at the elbows, loafers and no socks. He looked sexy as hell, and she recognized what had attracted her in the first place – he could call it dominance she called it confidence.  He was a man who was comfortable in his own skin and didn’t rely on someone else’s approval of him.  He enveloped her in his arms.

“I was pleased to get your call.”  He could feel her tenseness.  “Relax, I’m not going to eat you alive.  We’ll take this one step at a time, and I assure you; you are going to be begging for more.  First, we’re going to have some wine and then dinner.”

 The wine at dinner went a long way toward relaxing Betty.  When they retired to the living room, he sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to him, Betty was nervous but accepted the invitation to sit.  He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips – his lips were so soft; she turned to him and kissed his full lips, taking a nip the way he had done to her on their previous date. 


“Mischievous little one, you’re not supposed to be taking the lead; that's my job. Naughty girls get spanked.”  She nipped his lip again, a little harder this time.  He pulled her across his lap, lifted her dress and spied the lacy black thongs.  “Did you buy these just for my enjoyment, you bad girl?  If so, it would be unappreciative of me to remove them so quickly. I’m going to just admire them and the bottom they’re covering for a minute or two.”  His hand was caressing her bottom the whole time he spoke, when he finished he raised his hand and brought it down firmly in the middle of her cheeks – Betty jumped, not from the pain but from the sound of the strike as it echoed in the room. Before she had time to process, his hand struck again, this time on her right cheek and quickly on her left cheek.  After ten smacks, he removed those lacy thongs and dipped his fingers into the proof of her arousal and pleasure.  “Shall I continue?” he asked.



3 comments:

  1. Hi Sunny, that is a wonderful post of Katherine's, a great list of books. I love Scott and Erica ... and loved this story too :)

    Hugs
    Roz

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hi Sunny, thank you for the link, there are several new titles for my TBR list. Loved this chapter, thank you for sharing.

    hugs

    Nina

    ReplyDelete

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