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Lusty Lady

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Wednesday, December 21, 2005

To get you in the mood for tonight

Snippets from the stories from Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z 2 (Pretty Things Press, January or February 2006). If you want to hear the rest, come to Happy Ending Lounge, 302 Broome Street, at 8 tonight!

Queuing Up
by Rachel Kramer Bussel

That first slap always takes me by surprise, even when I’m expecting it. There is such a vast difference between my ass laid bare, exposed to the air, but relatively intact, and the heat that brews along that most sensitive of parts after he has spanked me; from eager to seething in several brutal, beautiful seconds. Craig holds his hand tight against my skin, maintaining the warmth and the pain, making it last those few precious seconds longer. I’m lying naked across his lap, and beneath his tight jeans, his cock presses up against me, hinting, surging, wanting, but my spankings aren’t about his cock, as much as I might want them to be, as hot and wet as they might get me. Sometimes I wonder if they’re even about me at all; Craig comes to me with a glint in his eye, a severity of purpose and steely resolve to spank me until I flip over some immutable edge that I am in constant awe at how much our urges are in sync.

Underwater Surprise
by Bette Taylor

"Goddammit!" I cursed under my breath, pausing the Berlitz French-for-beginners tape. Two hours until we reached Paris and I still could barely speak a word of French. I gazed out the window of the Eurostar at the British countryside, at sheep ignorant of my inner frustration. My girlfriend Chris was dozing in the seat next to me. She didn't speak any French either, but she wasn't as worried about it as I was. "We'll get by," she always said. I certainly hoped she was right.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot
by Nichelle

The song “Slave Driver” by Bob Marley was playing in my head after I received an email from my boss at four that afternoon. It was marked urgent, so I knew it wasn’t good. She wanted me to redo the PowerPoint presentation for tomorrow’s meeting with a new client before I left for the day. Damn! It was Monday, and I had spent the whole day working on another big project and was finally feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Violet, Scarlet, Crimson
by Michele Zipp

Violet was the color of her bruise, staining her pale skin; it was almost vulgar, yet inflicted in the midst of such heat and fire, it’s fitting really. They say the closest thing to love is hate, so is the closest thing to pleasure, pain? Was this type of hurt, although most pleasurable, the one thing that reminded them of how wrong it all was?

You Know You Want It
by Tsaurah Litzky

I was sitting on the subway trying to review my lecture notes for the class on Writing about Doing it –Portraying The Dynamics Of Sex that I’m en route to teach, but I can’t concentrate; all I want is a spanking. I would look down at the words in front of me but what I could see was myself bending over the arm of a plump sofa, with my Levis and panties down around my ankles and my big bouncy bottom stuck up in the air. A construction worker wearing only his helmet, his work boots, a wife beater tee shirt and a loaded tool belt is standing over me. He takes out his big screwdriver and spanks me not at all gently with the wooden end. When my butt is all rosy and stinging and sweetly throbbing, he flips me over, inserts his huge master tool deep into me and fixes me right up. When we are done, he turns me over and spanks me again. When I get to my stop, I still haven’t reviewed my notes, but my nipples are hard little jujubes and my pantyhose is wet.

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