It’s a new week, and I’m thrilled to host the awesome Katie Douglas, with her hot new release, Her Cyborg Daddy.
In the book, Zanthia is well-trained in the art of diplomacy, but she quickly finds herself in way over her head when she is assigned as the liaison for Unit 7090 Mark III, also known as Mark. The stunningly handsome, impossibly virile cyborg ambassador from an AI civilization has plans for his first encounter with a woman, and those plans include making Zanthia call him daddy, spanking her bare bottom when she is naughty, and enjoying her beautiful body in any way he pleases.
Though she is shocked by Mark’s demands, Zanthia soon finds herself quivering with desperate, shameful desire as she is stripped naked, restrained to an exam table, and brought to one helpless, blushing climax after another. That is only the beginning of her ordeal, and over the coming days Zanthia learns what it means to belong to a daddy who will not hesitate to explore even the most intimate and embarrassing of his little girl’s needs. But when Mark brings Zanthia with him to his world, will the arrival of a biological lifeform throw his civilization into chaos?
Publisher’s Note: Her Cyborg Daddy is a stand-alone book which is the third entry in the Twenty-Fourth Century Daddies series. It includes spankings, sexual scenes, and age play. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Read the red-hot teaser below, and then one-click the book today!
“Hold your cheeks apart,” he reiterated. With a sigh, Zanthia reached back and grabbed the mounds of flesh then pulled them open, displaying herself to him in the most humiliating way imaginable.
“Don’t let go of your bottom, young lady, or you will find yourself with an even longer, harder punishment.”
His hand swatted her tender bottom flesh and she squeaked as the sharper pain radiated through her delicate valley. “You are very wet again, Zanthia. Does the idea of having your bottom hole punished arouse you?”
She didn’t reply until a much harder swat landed right on her rosebud, filling the inside of her naughtiest tunnel with tingles.
“Yes. It does,” she told him, feeling her cheeks heat up as she said it.
“Then I’d better do it very thoroughly, to ensure you know exactly what you won’t get if you don’t answer my questions in the future.”
Damn him, why did he always manage to play her like a fiddle?
Indulge your #sinfulSunday today with the hot new read by Constance Masters. In A Firm-Handed Man, we meet Mikala Black. After a night out with friends, twenty-five-year-old Mikala makes an extremely foolish decision that puts her in danger and ultimately results in her being left stranded by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. When her plight is finally noticed by the driver of a passing car, her rescuer turns out to be Andrew Weatherly, an old high school classmate.
Andrew is no longer the boy she remembers as her chemistry lab partner, however. He is a tall, handsome, confident man now, and it sets Mikala’s heart racing when he scolds her for her reckless behaviour. Despite her best efforts to respond to his lecture with nothing but indignation, Andrew’s declaration that she is in need of a long, hard spanking leaves her intensely aroused.
Mikala has dreamed for years of finding a man who will not be afraid to take her in hand, and she cannot help wondering if Andrew would follow through on his threat. She soon learns the hard way that he will not hesitate to bare her bottom and spank her soundly when she pushes him too far with her defiant attitude.
Over the coming weeks, a romance blossoms between them, and though Mikala often finds herself with a bright-red, sore bottom, being kept in line by a firm-handed man is everything she hoped it would be. But when the demands of Andrew’s job put a strain on their relationship, will Mikala’s over-the-top reaction end up tearing apart everything they’ve built together?
Publisher’s Note:A Firm-Handed Man includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Check out the red-hot excerpt here (warning – 18+ only! 😉 )
He threw a pillow on the bed. “Lie on your tummy,” he ordered.
“The light?” she asked hopefully, but she already had an inkling what his answer would be.
“No, I want the light on this time. I want to see your pretty pink bottom—amongst other things.”He gave her a gentle push and she was over the pillow waiting with her ass in the air.
He took his time and she knew why. His fingers followed what she imagined was his line of sight. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she allowed to slip out of her mouth. Predictably a burst of reignited burning splattered across one cheek and then the other but it was worth it, it broke the spell and got him moving.
“Eager, are we, miss smartypants.” He spread her legs and dipped down to taste her. “Yes, you are.” His big hands kneaded her ass, spreading her, licking her glistening lips.
“Oh, God,” she whimpered.
“Push your ass up for me, baby.” He tapped her ass none too gently.
Mikki didn’t have to be told twice. She wanted him inside her, to feel the weight of his body on top of hers, controlling her every move. “Now, please,” she begged.
He didn’t keep her waiting any longer, he was rock hard.
She sucked in a deep satisfying breath when he entered her, sliding all the way to the hilt. Every ounce of his manhood was filling her. “Oh, baby, that feels so—” He pulled out and slammed back inside her deeply before she could finish her sentence.
Drew pushed her top out of the way and grazed her back with his stubble.
His whole body seemed to cover her as he kissed and nibbled the back of her neck. She could only manage shallow breaths, gasping small desperate puffs of Drew’s scent as he pummelled her. She could feel her peak building. “Yes, yes,” she panted.
“See what you do to me,” he muttered. “I want every part of you.”
“You have me.” Her climax hit and she squealed with the intensity of it as every muscle in her body twitched and quivered.
It occurred to me that yesterday (19th October) was the first anniversary since The Viking’s Conquest was released, and wow – what a year it has been!
The powerful, and often divisive tale of Anders and Aurelie’s blossoming love affair has been such an amazing success. It reached #1 in three countries and stayed there for over 50 days! As we speak it is still inside the top 50 in the UK, and has resiliently stayed inside for top 100 for the majority of the last year. On top of that it was runner up in last year’s ‘best erotic’ Spanking Romance awards, and won the readers-choice ‘Favourite Historical Fiction’ award – Just. Wow!
I have all of you to thank for this awesome achievement, so thank you to each and every reader who has bought and reviewed the book. I know it is not to everyone’s taste, and I totally respect that, but I still appreciate those who take the time to read my work.
I am currently penning the sequel, and am once again totally immersed in the debauchery of Anders and Aurelie. I hope to have their new story completed by the end of this year, so I’ll hopefully have more news of this soon.
Don’t forget, if you haven’t read The Viking’s Conquest, you can win yourself a copy in my giveaway this week! Find out the details and enter right here! 🙂
I’m super excited to feature Ashe Barker’s brand new Viking romance today! Held In Custody sees an intriguing time travel twist on Ashe’s historical erotic romance…
When he encounters an injured young woman while on a motorcycle ride on the small Scottish island of North Uist, police officer Finn Olsen immediately comes to her aid, but to his surprise her dialect proves all but incomprehensible to him. To make matters worse, she first tries to run and then does her best to stab him with a dagger after he catches her.
Recognizing that the woman is confused and distraught, Finn disarms her, handcuffs her, and brings her back to the local police station, which doubles as his home. Once she is in his custody, however, it quickly becomes clear that his beautiful, feisty prisoner comes from a very different era, and that she has somehow travelled forward in time more than a thousand years.
Finn takes it upon himself to keep the headstrong girl safe in a completely unfamiliar world, even going so far as to bare her bottom for a sound spanking with his belt when she attempts an escape. Despite her situation, she is deeply aroused by his bold dominance, and when he claims her properly she is left utterly spent and satisfied. But as they unravel the mystery of her arrival in the twenty-first century, will their discoveries bring an end to their newfound romance?
Publisher’s Note: Held in Custody includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Read a hot (18+) excerpt from the book right here…
He patted his lap and waited for Eira to resign herself to the inevitable. It did not take long. Eira edged forward from the head of the bed and eventually threw herself face down across his knee.
Finn lifted the towel to reveal the curved perfection of her bottom. He had, of course, had occasion to admire her body in the shower, though between the T-shirt and his own annoyance that opportunity had been limited. He took his time to savour her now.
Eira flinched when he laid his palm on the soft, tender skin of her buttock. He squeezed, then reached for the belt which he had laid beside him on the bed. Finn took the precaution of hooking his leg over both of hers to ensure she remained in place, and with his spare hand he held her wrists in the small of her back. He usually derived considerable pleasure from taking his belt to a willing woman and he was only marginally less enthusiastic about administering a decent disciplinary spanking. Now that he had Eira laid across his lap, waiting, he was ready to admit that this was where he had wanted to see her right from the moment he had set eyes on the woman on the road. Even so, he thought it best to get this done with quickly. It was late, they both needed to get some sleep.
Eira yelped when the first stroke landed. She wriggled and squirmed on Finn’s lap but he held her fast. After a few moments she settled and he delivered the second stroke. This time she whimpered but did not struggle. The third and fourth strokes were met with first screams, then sobbing. By the fifth she lay limp, weeping, her bottom sporting five vivid crimson stripes.
Finn laid the belt aside and traced each red wheal with his fingertips. He was gentle, but she hissed with pain even so.
“I am sorry, ” she gulped. “I will obey.”
“I know,” murmured Finn. “I know you will. And now, you know what will happen if you don’t.”
“I am sorry, also, for the knife.”
“That’s done with, I told you. It doesn’t matter.”
“I am sorry, even so.”
Finn eased her to her feet, then held her elbows until he was sure she was steady. “All is forgiven. You have been punished and we will not talk of it again, the knife or you disobeying me.” He pulled her to him in a hug then smiled up at her. “You must be tired. It is very late. I made a bed for you.”
“I know, in the prison.”
“No, not there. In another room. You can use it until you have somewhere else to stay.” He stood up and held out his hand. Eira took it, and he led her from the room.
“This is for me?” She gazed at the small but perfectly serviceable spare bedroom.
“Yes. You can sleep here. I’ll bring your clothes when they’re dry but until then you’ll have to borrow more of mine.”
“You shall not raise your hand to me again, lady, lest you wish to find yourself upended across my lap and spanked. Do I make myself clear on this?”
This Sunday, I am pleased to welcome the fabulous, Ashe Barker to my blog! She brings us her sexy new Viking romance, Her Celtic Captor, and there’s a naughty little spanking excerpt for you to enjoy coming up…
As the sister of a powerful Viking chief, Brynhild Freysson is used to giving orders and having them obeyed, which makes it all the more difficult to accept when she suddenly finds herself at the mercy of a Celtic warrior intent on bringing her back to his village whether she likes it or not.
Taranc was a leader of his people before he was taken captive by Viking raiders, and now that he is a free man once more he has no intention of allowing a headstrong Norse woman to slow down his journey home with her stubborn disobedience. When Brynhild refuses to do as she is told, he wastes no time in baring her bottom for a thorough switching, and he makes it quite clear that she can expect even more painful and humiliating punishments if she continues to defy him.
Though her hatred of the Celts runs deep, Taranc’s stern dominance awakens desires in Brynhild that she thought she would never feel again, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her properly it is more pleasurable than she would have thought possible. But though her passion for him grows by the day, can she ever truly love a man whose people are enemies of her own?
Publisher’s Note: Her Celtic Captor is a stand-alone sequel to Her Rogue Viking and Her Dark Viking. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book
Check out this sizzling snippet, and then one-click this hot book today!
Yes, she was scared, and Taranc believed this was real. Her submission might be forced, but she recognised his power over her however much she might deplore it and had abandoned her attempts to resist, to refuse to cooperate. She might yet learn a valuable lesson this day.
Taranc took the blanket and tugged it away from her body. Brynhild flinched as the cool morning air caressed her naked back. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, her expression fearful. “Please…” she mouthed.
Taranc moved in close and lifted the heavy length of her unbound hair which cascaded down her back. He draped it over her shoulder and on impulse bent to kiss the top of her head. “This will be quick, Brynhild. I promise. And you will come to no harm.”
She closed her beautiful azure eyes again, and nodded.
Taranc wasted no time in retrieving his belt which had been flung to the deck in the scramble for the knife. He removed the empty sheath and folded its length so he could grasp the metal buckle within his fist. He walked back to where his captive leaned against the solid wooden pole, her body shivering. The marks of her previous punishment still streaked her pale buttocks, and Taranc believed he had never seen a sight more beautiful. Brynhild Freysson might be the most difficult, complicated and frankly demanding woman he had ever encountered, but she was without doubt the most lovely. If their circumstances were different…
He gave himself a mental shake. The circumstances were not different. They were what they were—awkward, dangerous and bloody inconvenient. He would do what must be done, and she would bear what she could not avoid. What came next he had not the faintest notion, but he would feel his way through this…somehow.
“Are you ready?”
Her lips tightened into a grimace. She made no further response.
“Ten strokes. I shall count. You may make all the din you like since we are far out of port and none but the gulls will hear you.”
A single tear escaped the corner of her eye and snaked its way across her pale cheek. Despite her reluctance to embrace the mast a few minutes ago he noted that she gripped it like a devoted lover now.
The belt whistled through the air. Brynhild let put a startled yelp even before the leather connected with her quivering rump then danced on the spot as the stripe bloomed on her skin.
“One.” Taranc shifted his stance to lay the next stroke a little lower and swung again.
“Two,” he announced as Brynhild gasped and whimpered against the mast. She clung to the beam as though drawing comfort from its solid warmth.
“Three.” He paused to allow her to take several much-needed breaths as she hopped from one foot to the other. Her bottom glowed red and he could almost feel the heat from where he stood.
“Are you all right?” He was impressed at her fortitude thus far, but felt compelled to ask even so.
Her answer was a tight nod and a flattening of her lips. Her body was rigid, her punished buttocks clenching hard as she anticipated the next stroke.
“It is less painful if you soften your bottom,” he advised.
“How do you know? Is this something you learnt from your betrothed? How often did you tie Fiona up and whip her naked bottom?”
A fair enough question, he surmised, though he considered it ill-judged of her to ask it right now. He was tempted to increase the punishment by a further two strokes but decided that might be unduly harsh. “No, I never had occasion to do so. I always found Fiona to be sweet-natured and compliant. You, lady, are an entirely different matter.”
And privately, he thanked the sweet Lord for that.
This week, I bring you a scintillating passage from my #1 bestseller, The Viking’s Conquest. In preparation for the sequel, I have been revisiting the dramatic liasions between Prince Anders of the Northlands, and Princess Aurelie of Donrose. Take a look for yourself, and see what you make of their burgeoning romance…
I blush at his words, pleased to hear my name back on his lips. He beckons me forward with one finger of his right hand and I move even closer to him.
It’s only one word and yet somehow it holds a world of carnal promise for me. I swallow hard behind the leather forced between my lips and inch myself ever closer to him, until my legs brush against the cloth of his garments.
“Good,” he says soothingly. “Now place your hands on the arms of my chair and lean forward, toward me.”
I do so, moving my left and then right arms into position before moving my torso toward the smiling prince seated next to me. He watches every nuance of my body as though he is spellbound by my very essence. His eyes move from the length of my arms to the curve of my breasts now hanging over his body, and up to my face. Here he pauses, raising his own right hand and smoothing back my hair from my face.
“So beautiful, Aurelie…” he says quietly, as though I am not supposed to hear the words.
Our eyes meet again and for a moment all thoughts of my abduction, bondage, and punishment are lost to those pools of desire. I remember the heat of his body against mine the previous night and how masterfully he had taken my maidenhead. I feel a slow blush rising north to my cheeks as the intimate details of our liaison fill my mind and I wonder if he too is recalling our combined passion.
The hand at the side of my face strokes my left cheek as he appraises me thoughtfully and then without warning ducks to the leather at my mouth. One finger dips between it and my skin before leveraging it out of my lips and stretching the leather down to my neck where I feel it land. The same fingers trace a silent line over my lips, although those fierce blue eyes of his never leave my own.
“I have missed that naughty mouth,” he says, winking at me.
My face flames at his words and I can feel the heat searing through me. Anders has missed me—the thought is exhilarating.
Read more about Aurelie’s tantalising captivity by grabbing your copy of the book:
It’s Saturday, and we all know what that means – it’s time for a spanking! 😉
This week, I bring you another sizzling interlude between Lord Thomas Markham and his beautiful ward, Lady Lydia. In this scene, Lydia is looking to garner Thomas’ attention, but she gets a little more than she bargained for…
The depth of the authority in his voice stirs me, sending energy coursing around my body. It pools at the apex of my legs, causing delicious tingles there. “I am sorry to have pressed the point,” I say, and I mean it, although I cannot help but wonder if it is his discipline which I really crave and have missed this last week.
I swear he senses the answer as he reaches for me. He sinks the fingers of his right hand into my hair and draws my body toward him. “Lydia,” he says, his voice almost a low growl. “Are you being intentionally disrespectful, I wonder?”
A silent gasp leaves my mouth as I look upon him.
“Oh, so you are…” he says with a knowing smile. “That is what this is about…”
I flush, knowing that there is little point denying what we both already know to be true. I glance up to him, my eyes imploring the messages I long to say. He pulls me closer, pressing my head against his warm chest. “Have you missed me, my love?” His voice is a deep murmur into my right ear.
“Yes…” I just about manage.
“And so you have chosen to be intentionally disobedient, to garner my attention?”
I shift my head, looking wildly into his face. “It is not my intention, My Lord,” I whimper.
“Oh, really, little one?” he asks, as that brow arches once again. “I think that is an untruth. I think you did intend to disobey me, and I think you did so because you have missed my discipline. Am I correct?”
I am trembling as I reply, utterly startled by his ability to read me. “Perhaps, yes, My Lord, but I did not want for you to be angry with me.”
He smiles. “Lydia,” he coos. “I am not angry. But you and I both know what happens to naughty, disobedient young ladies, don’t we?”
My mouth parts reflexively. “Will you spank me?” I whimper.
“Yes,” he says, pulling me toward him as he reseats himself. “I realise that I have been remiss in my duties to you, and for that I apologise. I intend to make amends right this moment.”
In an instant he pulls me forward and down toward his lap. “But, My Lord!” I exclaim as I lurch headfirst over his breeches. “Not here, Thomas! What if somebody finds us?”
“We have had this conversation, Lydia,” he says firmly as he hoists me into position, “and I have assured you that I will spank you either with, or without, an audience.”
I gasp, feeling the skirts of my gown, petticoat, and stays dragged up my back, leaving my behind exposed and vulnerable. Almost immediately, his hand lands against my bare skin, the sound resonating around the study. I squeeze my eyes shut, stunned by the escalation of events. I pray silently that none of the staff will hear us and enter the room unexpectedly.
A further four swats are landed on my bottom, and they are hard and intense spanks. I am forced to bear each one, feeling the sting and then warmth they leave after his palm has left. From this angle behind his desk I can see very little, except for the expensive rug at my fingertips.
As the next strike lands, I hear Thomas’ voice from over my head. “Why are you being spanked, Lydia?” he asks.
I notice his voice is calm, but there is just the slight edge of arousal laced there.
“I was disobedient, My Lord,” I reply, my own voice trembling as I do.
“Yes,” he agrees, swatting me hard on the rear again. “You disobeyed me in order to get the attention you require, instead of coming to me and telling me about your needs.”
His hand lands on my behind again. “And for that reason, little one,” he says firmly, “you will receive a sound spanking on your bare bottom, and you will thank me for it.”
I whimper as the next strike lands, catching the pulsating need between my legs. “Yes, My Lord,” I moan from over his lap. “Thank you.”
Five swats land quickly, and instinctively I mean to get up, arching my back as I try to move.
His hand holds me down decisively. “You will stay over my lap, Lydia,” he calls out, and I flinch at the volume, hoping that nobody else will hear him. “You need this punishment, do you not?”
“Yes,” I whine, wincing as the next spank lands.
“Yes, you do,” he says, reaffirming my own thoughts. “So just take it, little one.”
I swallow hard, loathing the way he calls me his little one as he spanks me. The label, of course, helps to reinforce my subservience to him. The onslaught continues, and the stinging sensation is intense. He pushes me on, the utter indignation of the punishment both riling and arousing me. At some point I lose count of the swats, feeling the tension between my legs growing and building. I know I am wet, and I long secretly for Thomas to explore me there.
His palm eventually pauses, pressing itself against the warmth of my bare bottom. “How do you feel now, my love?” His voice is filled with passion.
“Thank you for my spanking, Thomas,” I murmur, unsure what else to say.
I hear him laugh, and slowly, teasingly, his fingers dip between my hot cheeks.
“Well done, my love,” he soothes, as one and then two digits slip against my wetness.
I mewl and groan, loving the intensity of his touch already.
“So wet and beautiful,” he whispers adoringly. “I yearn for our wedding night, Lydia, when I can finally possess you as a man should claim his wife.”