This story is part of a new series - Xavier and Maddie are lovers who engage in all sorts of spanking play. This story is dedicated to my lover, who provides endless inspiration and support. The normal disclaimers apply.
“Can we go yet?”
Xavier looked up from his MacBook to find Maddie all but jumping with impatience. Standing beside his desk, she was wearing a scoop-necked t-shirt with the words It’s a good thing I’m into you, because otherwise it would be awkward printed across her chest, tight jeans, and her scuffed Sketchers. He rolled his eyes, “You’re acting like an impatient four-year old.”
“I am not!” She crossed her arms and pouted ineffectually at him.
Xavier raised an eyebrow, glaring at her as she proved his point. She sighed theatrically, attempting to distract him with her heaving chest, but this worked no better than her previous ploys.
“You can stand in the corner until you’re ready to act like an adult.”
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Obadiah's Journey (chapter 3)
The appearance of two figures on one of the temporary screens startled Obadiah, but he wasted no time clicking his computer program into action. Despite his failure to identify the mystery pair, Obadiah felt some satisfaction that his final computer project worked seamlessly. The other guard on duty failed to notice the single flicker as the screen changed from a current display to one Obadiah had recorded previously, the current activity transferred to a video file on his laptop.
Thanks to Obadiah’s search for the “notorious Senator”, he had heard the gossip about the construction area the pair had selected for this nighttime adventure. The year’s elections had caused major upheaval, requiring that office spaces be totally reassigned. The Senate minority had been assigned this area in the basement, which was still under construction.
Earlier attempts to paint the sandstone foundation had gone poorly; the living stone rejected the paint in many of the earlier reconstructions. Instead, the Senate Minority Leader had decided to embrace the dungeon like appearance of the basement quarters the party had been given. The room this pair had selected even had eye-bolts screwed into the sandstone in various locations. The cameras had only been installed temporarily in the offices due to various allegations of fraud in the construction. Obadiah had a wealth of gossipy information, but he was no closer to identifying the Senator.
Thanks to Obadiah’s search for the “notorious Senator”, he had heard the gossip about the construction area the pair had selected for this nighttime adventure. The year’s elections had caused major upheaval, requiring that office spaces be totally reassigned. The Senate minority had been assigned this area in the basement, which was still under construction.
Earlier attempts to paint the sandstone foundation had gone poorly; the living stone rejected the paint in many of the earlier reconstructions. Instead, the Senate Minority Leader had decided to embrace the dungeon like appearance of the basement quarters the party had been given. The room this pair had selected even had eye-bolts screwed into the sandstone in various locations. The cameras had only been installed temporarily in the offices due to various allegations of fraud in the construction. Obadiah had a wealth of gossipy information, but he was no closer to identifying the Senator.
Monday, January 3, 2011
New Additions
I've added a few pages to my blog, most of them with links to groups of stories I've posted here. Because the majority of my posts ARE stories, I hope this will make my stories easier to find and follow. Of course, if you've read them already, I encourage you to comment on your favorites - as that might help entice me back to writing on a series I've abandoned.
Do tell me what you think of the layout - if it's helpful or what would make it more helpful. I'm still finding my way around this blogging thing.
I'll do my best to update the pages when I add new stories. Speaking of which, I must get back to Obadiah.
Do tell me what you think of the layout - if it's helpful or what would make it more helpful. I'm still finding my way around this blogging thing.
I'll do my best to update the pages when I add new stories. Speaking of which, I must get back to Obadiah.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Obadiah's Journey (chapter 2)
“You know, Obadiah, you’re really too much of a gadget freak to work security.”
“And you’re a Luddite, Bill. What’s your point?” Obadiah did not bother to look up from his laptop to answer the older security guard on duty with him tonight. A complicated array of cords, boxes, and connectors ran across the table between the monitors and Obadiah’s laptop.
“I just don’t see the point of all this. You can simply watch the screens.” Bill grumbled.
“You can watch the screens, Bill. I’m working on my final project for my computer science class,” Obadiah explained patiently, silently thinking that his project was far more interesting than one for any class.
Bill grunted, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Want anything from the snack machine?”
“No,” Obadiah paused before adding, “Thanks, though.” With everything connected, he settled back in his seat to watch the monitors. “Excellent timing,” he muttered to the empty room, “But the guts of this pair!”
He wasted only a moment shaking his head at the figures that appeared on the screen showing the interior of the capital dome. A few clicks and several keystrokes later, the monitor showed footage of the capital dome Obadiah had captured earlier in the week. The current scene was transferred instead to a video file on his laptop.
“And you’re a Luddite, Bill. What’s your point?” Obadiah did not bother to look up from his laptop to answer the older security guard on duty with him tonight. A complicated array of cords, boxes, and connectors ran across the table between the monitors and Obadiah’s laptop.
“I just don’t see the point of all this. You can simply watch the screens.” Bill grumbled.
“You can watch the screens, Bill. I’m working on my final project for my computer science class,” Obadiah explained patiently, silently thinking that his project was far more interesting than one for any class.
Bill grunted, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Want anything from the snack machine?”
“No,” Obadiah paused before adding, “Thanks, though.” With everything connected, he settled back in his seat to watch the monitors. “Excellent timing,” he muttered to the empty room, “But the guts of this pair!”
He wasted only a moment shaking his head at the figures that appeared on the screen showing the interior of the capital dome. A few clicks and several keystrokes later, the monitor showed footage of the capital dome Obadiah had captured earlier in the week. The current scene was transferred instead to a video file on his laptop.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Obadiah's Journey (chapter 1)
This story began as a very "innocent" scene between two nameless individuals. But when Jada gave me multiple suggestions for character names...well, you'll see how Obadiah hijacked my innocent storyline. And I hope you'll follow along to see where he takes us.
The door clicked shut behind Violet, blocking out the light from the stairwell and leaving her in darkness. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. She walked forward carefully, one hand gently tracing the bookshelf beside her.
At the end of the row, she turned and paused again. Here, a dim light filtered through sheer curtains that covered a rare floor-to-ceiling window. The pale light revealed rank upon rank of library shelving that she knew to be basic metal shelves capped with wood to add elegance. She reached for one, tracing the metal fixture with its paper inset describing the books stored in the row.
This side of the library was rarely visited. A researcher could find any of the millions of published cases far easier on Westlaw or Lexis. These books, each differently colored series representing a section of the country, were a memorial to a time long past. In daylight, she would think these books better stored, if at all, in the stacks, for all the floor-space they took up in the high ceilinged, formal library. But at night, they had a certain magic, each row filled with a uniform series in a slightly different color.
She walked forward, her pace still measured and slow. She passed another window, pausing only a moment to consider this new array of books before continuing on.
A flash of the gold-foil on the Atlantic Reporter caught her eye, revealed by the light from the window just ahead. Her step stuttered. He had promised to meet her here, where an internal column interrupted the shelving. For some inexplicable reason, the space had been filled with a round table and chairs on one side of the column and a stuffed chair on the other. No one used this little study spot, hidden away in never accessed books, even during the day.
The door clicked shut behind Violet, blocking out the light from the stairwell and leaving her in darkness. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust. She walked forward carefully, one hand gently tracing the bookshelf beside her.
At the end of the row, she turned and paused again. Here, a dim light filtered through sheer curtains that covered a rare floor-to-ceiling window. The pale light revealed rank upon rank of library shelving that she knew to be basic metal shelves capped with wood to add elegance. She reached for one, tracing the metal fixture with its paper inset describing the books stored in the row.
This side of the library was rarely visited. A researcher could find any of the millions of published cases far easier on Westlaw or Lexis. These books, each differently colored series representing a section of the country, were a memorial to a time long past. In daylight, she would think these books better stored, if at all, in the stacks, for all the floor-space they took up in the high ceilinged, formal library. But at night, they had a certain magic, each row filled with a uniform series in a slightly different color.
She walked forward, her pace still measured and slow. She passed another window, pausing only a moment to consider this new array of books before continuing on.
A flash of the gold-foil on the Atlantic Reporter caught her eye, revealed by the light from the window just ahead. Her step stuttered. He had promised to meet her here, where an internal column interrupted the shelving. For some inexplicable reason, the space had been filled with a round table and chairs on one side of the column and a stuffed chair on the other. No one used this little study spot, hidden away in never accessed books, even during the day.
Friday, November 19, 2010
HD - Tour (part 4)
If you haven’t read the other HoloDeck stories…you can start here. The HoloDeck series explores spanking, sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available. I find that sort of thing fun and titillating. Your mileage may vary. This is the final part of a four-part Macy/Colin story…you can find the first part here, the second part here, and the third part here.
“Oh no,” Colin said firmly, glaring at her. “I’ll hear a good bit more begging from you first. And your screams. Your sobs. None of this false bullshit.”
He shoved her backwards onto the table, her back flat on the fur rug, her bottom hanging off the edge. He pulled the picnic benches forward a bit and put a booted foot on either bench, spreading her very wide. A bit of rope secured her feet. He pulled her hands together, wrapped them with rope and stretched them far above her head before securing them.
He took his cane to these new targets – her thighs, her pussy, her breasts. He circled her, his blows precise and hard. She strained and writhed wordlessly on the table, occasional low moans punctuating his mutters of “Nice!”
He dropped the cane and scooped up more fresh snow. The first handful was pressed against her pussy. The next two held against her gorgeous breasts. She tossed her head back and forth, begging him with a nonsensical string of moans.
He swept the snow away and fell on her with his mouth. His hands squeezed her painfully. The suction of her mouth caused her to cry out. Her back arched, pressing her breasts harder into his mouth.
He forgot his desire to punish her, giving over to his desire to ravish her instead. He dropped his pants and thrust into her, but the remnants of cold snow served to remind him of his original purpose. Gritting his teeth, he pumped into her until she grew frantic for him. Then, growling, he withdrew.
A horrible rubber crop found its way into his hand. He struck her breasts, her pussy. It took only a few strokes to set her begging. He struck again, watching her tears fill her eyes. He hit her pussy twice more.
“How does my little slut want it?” He rubbed his cock teasingly against her clit, sliding down but not entering her.
“Please, Colin, just fuck me!” She raised her hips, opened her legs even further, begging with her body.
He gave into her pleas, taking everything she offered.
“Oh no,” Colin said firmly, glaring at her. “I’ll hear a good bit more begging from you first. And your screams. Your sobs. None of this false bullshit.”
He shoved her backwards onto the table, her back flat on the fur rug, her bottom hanging off the edge. He pulled the picnic benches forward a bit and put a booted foot on either bench, spreading her very wide. A bit of rope secured her feet. He pulled her hands together, wrapped them with rope and stretched them far above her head before securing them.
He took his cane to these new targets – her thighs, her pussy, her breasts. He circled her, his blows precise and hard. She strained and writhed wordlessly on the table, occasional low moans punctuating his mutters of “Nice!”
He dropped the cane and scooped up more fresh snow. The first handful was pressed against her pussy. The next two held against her gorgeous breasts. She tossed her head back and forth, begging him with a nonsensical string of moans.
He swept the snow away and fell on her with his mouth. His hands squeezed her painfully. The suction of her mouth caused her to cry out. Her back arched, pressing her breasts harder into his mouth.
He forgot his desire to punish her, giving over to his desire to ravish her instead. He dropped his pants and thrust into her, but the remnants of cold snow served to remind him of his original purpose. Gritting his teeth, he pumped into her until she grew frantic for him. Then, growling, he withdrew.
A horrible rubber crop found its way into his hand. He struck her breasts, her pussy. It took only a few strokes to set her begging. He struck again, watching her tears fill her eyes. He hit her pussy twice more.
“How does my little slut want it?” He rubbed his cock teasingly against her clit, sliding down but not entering her.
“Please, Colin, just fuck me!” She raised her hips, opened her legs even further, begging with her body.
He gave into her pleas, taking everything she offered.
Friday, November 12, 2010
HD - Tour (part 3)
If you haven’t read the other HoloDeck stories…you can start here. The HoloDeck series explores spanking, sex and BDSM in a fantasy world where nothing goes wrong, and if it does, they have sci-fi level medical care available. I find that sort of thing fun and titillating. Your mileage may vary. This is the third part of a four-part Macy/Colin story…you can find the first part here, and the second part here.
Cold air hit Macy’s bare skin like a thousand pinpricks of ice. Actual ice, in the form of snow, covered the ground and the bare branches of the surrounding trees. They stood in a clearing, a rustic wooden picnic table and benches explained the purpose of the spot. The air was thin, cool, but as Macy adjusted, no longer bitingly cold.
Colin turned to Macy, watching the tiny shiver race through her. Her nipples crinkled in the cold, tightening to hard nubs. He flicked one, drawing her attention from the scenery to him.
“It’s cold!” she complained.
“Still whining, are you?” Colin leaned towards her and kissed her nose, then each erect nipple. Macy moaned, arching her back in an attempt to press her breasts against him. He pulled back, teasing, “I’ll fix that soon enough, love.”
He strolled over to the picnic table. The bench on the far side held a number of items out of Macy’s sight. He picked up an enormous fur rug and flipped it out over the rough table.
“Come, pet. Lean over the end for me.”
Macy shuffled over somewhat reluctantly. The pain of the switching had faded quickly enough, but the memory had not. She slid her hand through the fur, slowly lowering herself onto the table. Colin roughly smacked her thighs until she opened her legs. “You know better than that, little one. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to punish you.”
Macy cast a skeptical glance over her shoulder at him but kept her peace. Not that it would matter either way, but occasionally Macy made the wiser choice. Colin ran his fingernails up her back, pressing hard enough to leave white lines in her flesh. His hands roamed, scratching and pinching. He cupped her buttocks in his hands, fingers digging into the muscle as he squeezed hard.
He smacked her bottom with his cupped hand, the loud sound echoing among the trees. He paused, pressing himself between her legs, running his arms up her back, laying himself over her. With a groan, he pulled himself away and took up a heavy flogger. He brushed her hair aside and settled into a steady rhythm. Macy grunted a little at the heavier blows, but otherwise seem to melt into the flogging.
“Warm enough, pet?” he asked softly.
“Mmmm hmmm,” she mumbled wordless agreement.
He switched to a carbon fiber cane, her back well prepared for these sharper blows. He moved to her bottom, the fullness of her cheeks receiving his attention for the first time. She clenched her hands into the fur blanket, moaning a bit.
“Oh dear,” he said mockingly, “Is someone getting turned on by this?” He slid a finger easily into her wet pussy. He fucked her hard for a moment, then withdrew and slid his wet finger into her ass. She squirmed harder, undeniably aroused by his actions. He knelt a bit to set aside the cane, his finger fucking her ass. His other hand scooped up a handful of pure white snow. Without warning, he cupped the snow around her pussy.
Macy screamed, pushing herself halfway up. Her back was arched, her elbows still on the table but drawn back to support her head and shoulders off the table. Colin withdrew his finger and dropped the snow. He took her roughly by the hair, holding her in this half raised position.
“Someone give you permission to get up, little one?”
“No,” Macy whimpered.
Colin pulled her roughly to her feet, glaring at her. He held her firmly, watching her tremble. She whimpered when he reached to touch her face, not quite shying away from what she thought would be a slap.
“If you can’t follow the rules, Macy, you don’t leave me any choice.” Colin pushed her back against the table, “You simply like it too much when I spank you, don’t you? Answer me!”
“Yes, Colin,” she stammered the words out, “I like it when you spank me.”
The fingers of his other hand, still bitterly cold from the snow, pinched a nipple, twisting it painfully, “And what about that? Do you like that too?”
“No,” Macy panted, but a rush of wetness between her legs betrayed her. Colin pushed his erection hard against her.
“Don’t lie to me. You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you? You like that too, don’t you?”
“Please…”
Colin simply pulled harder, “Please what?”
“Please fuck me,” Macy managed.
Cold air hit Macy’s bare skin like a thousand pinpricks of ice. Actual ice, in the form of snow, covered the ground and the bare branches of the surrounding trees. They stood in a clearing, a rustic wooden picnic table and benches explained the purpose of the spot. The air was thin, cool, but as Macy adjusted, no longer bitingly cold.
Colin turned to Macy, watching the tiny shiver race through her. Her nipples crinkled in the cold, tightening to hard nubs. He flicked one, drawing her attention from the scenery to him.
“It’s cold!” she complained.
“Still whining, are you?” Colin leaned towards her and kissed her nose, then each erect nipple. Macy moaned, arching her back in an attempt to press her breasts against him. He pulled back, teasing, “I’ll fix that soon enough, love.”
He strolled over to the picnic table. The bench on the far side held a number of items out of Macy’s sight. He picked up an enormous fur rug and flipped it out over the rough table.
“Come, pet. Lean over the end for me.”
Macy shuffled over somewhat reluctantly. The pain of the switching had faded quickly enough, but the memory had not. She slid her hand through the fur, slowly lowering herself onto the table. Colin roughly smacked her thighs until she opened her legs. “You know better than that, little one. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to punish you.”
Macy cast a skeptical glance over her shoulder at him but kept her peace. Not that it would matter either way, but occasionally Macy made the wiser choice. Colin ran his fingernails up her back, pressing hard enough to leave white lines in her flesh. His hands roamed, scratching and pinching. He cupped her buttocks in his hands, fingers digging into the muscle as he squeezed hard.
He smacked her bottom with his cupped hand, the loud sound echoing among the trees. He paused, pressing himself between her legs, running his arms up her back, laying himself over her. With a groan, he pulled himself away and took up a heavy flogger. He brushed her hair aside and settled into a steady rhythm. Macy grunted a little at the heavier blows, but otherwise seem to melt into the flogging.
“Warm enough, pet?” he asked softly.
“Mmmm hmmm,” she mumbled wordless agreement.
He switched to a carbon fiber cane, her back well prepared for these sharper blows. He moved to her bottom, the fullness of her cheeks receiving his attention for the first time. She clenched her hands into the fur blanket, moaning a bit.
“Oh dear,” he said mockingly, “Is someone getting turned on by this?” He slid a finger easily into her wet pussy. He fucked her hard for a moment, then withdrew and slid his wet finger into her ass. She squirmed harder, undeniably aroused by his actions. He knelt a bit to set aside the cane, his finger fucking her ass. His other hand scooped up a handful of pure white snow. Without warning, he cupped the snow around her pussy.
Macy screamed, pushing herself halfway up. Her back was arched, her elbows still on the table but drawn back to support her head and shoulders off the table. Colin withdrew his finger and dropped the snow. He took her roughly by the hair, holding her in this half raised position.
“Someone give you permission to get up, little one?”
“No,” Macy whimpered.
Colin pulled her roughly to her feet, glaring at her. He held her firmly, watching her tremble. She whimpered when he reached to touch her face, not quite shying away from what she thought would be a slap.
“If you can’t follow the rules, Macy, you don’t leave me any choice.” Colin pushed her back against the table, “You simply like it too much when I spank you, don’t you? Answer me!”
“Yes, Colin,” she stammered the words out, “I like it when you spank me.”
The fingers of his other hand, still bitterly cold from the snow, pinched a nipple, twisting it painfully, “And what about that? Do you like that too?”
“No,” Macy panted, but a rush of wetness between her legs betrayed her. Colin pushed his erection hard against her.
“Don’t lie to me. You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you? You like that too, don’t you?”
“Please…”
Colin simply pulled harder, “Please what?”
“Please fuck me,” Macy managed.
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