Monday, January 02, 2017

The Curiosity Shop: a spanking with every purchase

Conrad Black is the proprietor of The Curiosity Shop... and what a shop this is - a sparkling Aladdin's cave filled with beautiful and desirable things. Whoever goes into this shop finds something they want, but the price to be paid is not exclusively monetary, because Conrad Black seemingly knows all about each one of his customers; he knows their past, their wants and desires, their failures and misdemeanours. Armed with this knowledge, the mysterious proprietor ensures they receive exactly what they need - an aspect of corporal punishment.

This book contains a number of vignettes all featuring some form of supernatural happening linked to purchases from the Curiosity Shop. The patrons can be greedy, selfish, petty thieves, or irresponsible spenders, but ultimately they all have one thing in common: a spanked bottom!

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The Curiosity Shop is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:


Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Free F/M Story: The Wrestler

Here's a fun little treat for men who love being disciplined by a stern and beautiful woman ...

The Wrestler

The atmosphere in the crowded hall was electric, and the buzz of excited voices resonated to raucous cheers as the music blared from powerful speakers and the spotlight fixed on the towering figure that thrust through the curtain and stepped onto the walkway. He swaggered forward and paused as the drums rolled, posing for the crowd, playing to his supporters. Muscles flexed and torso rippling, he stood, hands on hips, legs splayed like two mighty tree trunks. His butt was honed and toned, and the clingy red and gold fabric of his tight fitting trunks shimmered, accentuating his hard and prominent buttocks. Glorifying in the adulation, he raised both arms, his hands balled into tight fists.

The crowd went mad. Their cheers echoed wildly around the arena. This was Dynamite Dick. The chant began. Dick! Dick! Dick! Dick! DY-NA-MITE!! Men in the crowd shouted and stomped, and many of the females went hysterical at the glorious vision of towering, pulsing, male testosterone. Hundreds of Dynamite Dick banners were simultaneously waved, their bearers yelling and screeching to welcome their hero.

Dynamite Dick was built like a rock. Weighing 245 pounds, he stood over 6ft 4 tall, his sun-tanned skin gleaming beneath the bright lights. He wore his dark brown hair long and free. The look suited him, complementing his chiseled jaw and strong features. Dynamite Dick was a hunk. He had presence and charisma. He was also one of the best wrestlers on the circuit and had a huge fan base. According to local rumour, his dick was equally huge.

The shouts gave way to boos as the opponent stepped into view. Nikolai Bolokoff strutted through the aperture wearing a black cloak lined with silver and trimmed with fur. He wore big heavy fur-trimmed boots and a fur hat. Bol-o-koff! Bol-o-koff! chanted the crowd in unison. Bolokoff gave them his traditional greeting - a mouthful of abuse and the finger sign.

The crowds roared, clapped, cheered and boo'd as the Russian threw off his hat, revealing a smooth shaven bullet head. At 32, he was two years younger than Dynamite Dick, and a little shorter, lighter, and faster than his adversary. He tossed aside his cloak and strutted along the walkway. He had a powerful physique, with muscles bulging. He too played the crowd expertly, growling and snarling and shaking his fists.

He would periodically give the ladies a thrill by thrusting his hips lewdly. Secretly, he was an exponent of enhancing pouch underwear technology - it's not generally known that this type of unique underwear works via a lift and hold mechanism. So instead of letting the genitals hang down, it instead lifts them up and holds them out to create that so desired big bulge effect that makes you look like a super stud. Thus, whenever Bolokoff thrusted, he appeared to be flaunting a well-packed jumbo sausage rather than a weedy little chipolata. The ladies loved it. Plenty of men did too.

"Ya all DOGS BOLLOCKS!" yelled Bolokoff to the crowd.

The crowd surged as one at the insult, hissing and yelling and stamping their feet on the wooden floor boards. The voluptuous woman on the front row smiled, revealing crimsoned lips and a row of perfect white teeth. Her green eyes glittered with excitement. She jumped to her feet, her hourglass figure swaying as she waved wildly, shouting for Dynamite Dick.

He turned in the ring and met her glance, and grinned confidently. The wrestling match began with Dynamite Dick performing a neat sidestepping move that foiled Bolokoff's offensive attack, and led the latter to a suspected groin injury as he crashed to the ground, and thrashed about wildly. Then Dynamite Dick leapt on top of him and began lifting Bolokoff's head and banging it down again hard. The crowd roared its approval. The woman in the front row jumped up and down, her plentiful breasts bobbing.

But what was this? Bolokoff broke free of the hold and bounded to his feet, and suddenly launched into a missile dropkick which toppled Dynamite Dick, slamming him to the ground. The two men grappled and grunted, egged on by the crowd. Back on his feet again, Dynamite Dick, using the middle rope as leverage, delivered a signature kick to Bolokoff's belly. The Russian bellowed, his face red with anger. Then he stomped round the ring, brandishing his fists, before getting revenge on Dynamite by flooring him and getting him with a leg hook camel clutch.

The Dynamite Dick supporters screamed with unrestrained pleasure as Dynamite Dick broke free of the hold. Then tragedy struck, as Bolokoff gave Dynamite an unexpected head butt that knocked him out cold. The crowd roared and wailed in disbelief. How could this happen? Dynamite should have won, and here he was, laid like a beached whale.

After being doused with a bucket of cold water, Dynamite Dick limped off the stage with his tail between his legs. His bruised body ached all over and his head pounded. He sat in his dressing room feeling morose, and dismissed the attendants.

The door burst open and she walked in. He knew it was her, by the sharp click of her heels and the sensual aroma of her French perfume.

"You lost," she said.

"Yeah. I did."

'"You shall be punished. I lost my bet thanks to your inept stupidity," she snapped.

"Sorry."

"Don't mumble. And look at me when you're speaking!" Her eyes glittered ominously.

Dynamite Dick raised his head. "Sorry, Mistress," he said, clearly.

"You will be. Hand me the paddle."

Dynamite Dick groaned. He couldn't face the paddle right now. He had a headache. "Do I have to?" he began, in a pleading tone.

"Get it this minute, or suffer the consequences!"

He complied at once. He knew through painful experience what those consequences might be.

"Right," she said briskly as he handed her a hefty looking wooden paddle. "Trunks off, and go and bend over the chair."

She watched him intently as he peeled off his trunks and strode dutifully towards the chair. He had a wonderful body. She never tired of looking at it. Nor did she baulk at the prospect of tanning that gloriously sculpted bottom. She licked her lips in anticipation as he got into position over the chair, legs apart, bottom thrust out prominently.

There was no warm up. She launched straight in with a succession of hard blows across his buttocks. The wooden paddle was a bastard. She used it expertly, hammering out the blows. His backside quickly turned from pink to red, and still she continued, pounding away, giving his rump a thorough roasting. Both his buttocks were crimsoned and sore, his flesh burning hot. His eyes watered as the pain pierced like red hot needles. His rump felt raw and battered.

When she started paddling the top of his thighs, it took all his resolve not to cry out in pain. The pain was intense. It suffused his whole body. He felt every nerve ending shriek as blow after blow was delivered. Still, he needed it. He deserved it. It had been six weeks since he last lost a match.

The things a guy had to do to get a good spanking.

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If you enjoyed that, do look out for some of my other femdom titles, all available on Amazon.

The Bad Boy Story Book 3 Click Here

The Bad Boy Story Book 2 Click Here

The Bad Boy Story Book 1 Click Here

Disciplined by His Landlady Click Here

The Disciplined Husband Click Here

The Postmistress and the Gardener Click Here



I must confess I love the cover for the Postmistress and the Gardener. Don't you agree? It's Goddess Sophia, and here website is here.

Happy New Year to you all! Lucy x

Monday, December 26, 2016

Spanked By Her Music Teacher

Spanked by Her Music Teacher is Now Available.

The things a girl will do to get the attention of the man she has the hots for ... Look out for Spanked by Her Music Teacher, due for publication around the 26th December.

At almost eighteen, Katie has the hots for Steve Kennedy, a music teacher who lives nearby. Persuading her mother to pay for flute lessons, she duly turns up at Mr Kennedy's house with one thing on her mind: seduction. But although Mr Kennedy is far from oblivious to Katie's charms, he focuses on teaching her to play the flute. Katie's behaviour, however, leaves much to be desired, and when she breaks his antique mirror during a bratty temper tantrum she gets his full attention, though not quite in the way she expects. He spanks her bare bottom, and continues to do so for the last ten minutes of each lesson. But Katie doesn't give up easily, and does all she can to get him to take her to bed. It isn't until nine years later that her dreams come to fruition - and the reality is even better than the fantasy, and most definitely worth the wait!

This book also includes the following M/F stories: Rigorous and Disciplined Training; Fat Bottomed Girl; Are You a Good Girl?; The Au Pair; British Justice; A Caning to Remember; The Heavy Hand of the Law; Incriminating Photographs; A Mother and Daughter Spanked by the Babysitter; Mrs Harbottle's Bottom; Naughty Emily; and Psychometrica Electronica.

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Spanked by Her Music Teacher is available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Spanked by Her Music Teacher

The things a girl will do to get the attention of the man she has the hots for ... Look out for Spanked by Her Music Teacher, due for publication around the 26th December.

At almost eighteen, Katie has the hots for Steve Kennedy, a music teacher who lives nearby. Persuading her mother to pay for flute lessons, she duly turns up at Mr Kennedy's house with one thing on her mind: seduction. But although Mr Kennedy is far from oblivious to Katie's charms, he focuses on teaching her to play the flute. Katie's behaviour, however, leaves much to be desired, and when she breaks his antique mirror during a bratty temper tantrum she gets his full attention, though not quite in the way she expects. He spanks her bare bottom, and continues to do so for the last ten minutes of each lesson. But Katie doesn't give up easily, and does all she can to get him to take her to bed. It isn't until nine years later that her dreams come to fruition - and the reality is even better than the fantasy, and most definitely worth the wait!

This book also includes the following M/F stories: Rigorous and Disciplined Training; Fat Bottomed Girl; Are You a Good Girl?; The Au Pair; British Justice; A Caning to Remember; The Heavy Hand of the Law; Incriminating Photographs; A Mother and Daughter Spanked by the Babysitter; Mrs Harbottle's Bottom; Naughty Emily; and Psychometrica Electronica.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Free F/M Story - The Cherry Cake Incident

Here's a free story for you featuring a very dominant woman giving a deserving male exactly what's required!

The Cherry Cake Incident © Lucy Appleby

Gilbert Bryce considered himself a fortunate man, for he had just obtained a position as second footman at Grantham Hall. Though the hours were long and some of his many duties unpleasant, such as emptying the chamber pots of all the male servants and washing them with a vinegar-soaked rag, (washing the chamber pots that is, not the servants) he applied himself conscientiously to each and every task. By the end of his first week at Grantham Hall, he had gained an in-depth understanding of the way things worked and knew his place within the hierarchy of servants. Below stairs, the Butler Mr Jarvis, and the Housekeeper, Miss Williams were the respected figureheads of authority; there was just one area in which they passed autonomy onto another - and that was the discipline of the household staff.

Discipline was Cook's domain. She was good at it ... very good indeed; she had a certain talent combined with an incessant enthusiasm for doling out punishment on deserving bare bottoms, and she took an even greater pleasure in meting out discipline to the undeserving, particularly when she manipulated situations to her own advantage. No one dared challenge her. She ruled the kitchen with a rod of iron, her face often set in a scowl as she inspected the work of her underlings and found them sadly lacking. Soggy pastry was the most heinous crime - Betty got two dozen with the wooden spoon for her soggy-bottomed lemon tart. Beatrice got six of the best with the slim rattan after her suet dumplings were found to be so heavy they sank (with a little covert help from Cook) to the bottom of the iron stew-pot. Mary was treated to a dose of brine-soaked birch rods for failing to clean the baking trays to Cook's exacting standards, and Lizzy the scullery maid got six stingers with the strap for spilling the ash pan all over Cook's clean kitchen floor, even though Cook herself was responsible for the mishap.

Gilbert quietly absorbed all this and quickly got the measure of Cook. It didn't matter that she was the most unpopular member of staff in the entire household - he adored her. He admired her physical strength, her assertiveness and tenacity, and though her face was plain as a pikestaff, he found himself lusting after her and did his utmost to attract her attention. Yet however hard he tried, he remained firmly below her radar ... until the cherry cake incident.

Cook was most particular about her cakes and kept a vigilant eye on the kitchen and scullery maids to ensure that not one crumb intended for the Master and Mistress of the house found itself into the greedy belly of a servant below stairs. One afternoon, she made a particularly impressive-looking cherry cake and set it on the cake stand to be taken upstairs at tea time, but to her horror the next time she glanced at it, there was a big slice missing. Cook went ballistic! She ranted and raved and gnashed her teeth. She brandished her rolling pin and cursed and threatened. She lined up all the female staff in a long row, and bent them bare-bottomed over her scrubbed pine kitchen table.

Surveying the row of bared posteriors, their owners shaking at the thought of their imminent chastisement, Cook's gimlet eyes narrowed. Since the culprit would not confess, she would punish the lot of them, and it would be a punishment they would not forget in a hurry! Cook smiled thinly and rolled up her sleeves. She retrieved her favourite thick, heavy strap from the nail behind the larder door. It would soon leave some beautiful markings on the pale moons awaiting chastisement. She positioned herself behind the first unfortunate miscreant and raised her arm.

"Wait!!" Gilbert Bryce stepped forward. "I have a confession to make. It was I who stole the cake. Therefore it is I who should be punished."

There came a collective gasp of relief from the owners of the bare bottoms. Cook stared long and hard at Gilbert Bryce. "Prove it," she snapped.

"But - I can't! I've eaten the evidence!" declared Gilbert.

"How very foolish of you," said Cook slyly.

"Well ... I - I am the thief! So punish me and let these innocents go!"

"Not on your nelly," snapped Cook. She elbowed the fat-bottomed Dolly at the end of the row. "Move up girl. Make room for ...?" She looked questioningly at Gilbert.

"Gilbert Bryce, Ma'am."

"Very well, Gilbert Bryce. Bare your bottom and bend over the table. Jump to it. I haven't got all day."

With trembling fingers and a building sense of excitement, Gilbert began unbuttoning his livery. This was it - his dream come true - he was to be disciplined by Cook! This was a day he would cherish forever! He dropped his breeches and bent over the table.

"Stick that rump right out, boy!" Cook swatted it with the palm of her hand. Gilbert almost swooned with pleasure.

But the others gathered around the table in the same undignified pose were not so pleased. They thought it most unfair that they were to be punished for something that Gilbert was responsible for, and they all glared at him, darting looks of contempt and unspoken promises of retribution. Gilbert was oblivious. He arched his back and thrust out his backside, enjoying the feel of the cool air on his naked buttocks. What a shameful spectacle he must make! The thought of such exhibitionism made his cock twitch and pulse. He fervently hoped Cook couldn't see it.

But she had. She reached down and grabbed it in her left hand, giving it a yank. "Despicable creature! What is the meaning of this engorged manhood?"

"Oooo!" squealed Gilbert, shocked to find his fine appendage so cruelly pulled.

In spite of their imminent punishment, the kitchen girls began to giggle and snort with laughter.

"Silence!" bellowed Cook. "Cease that infernal snorting. I will not tolerate it!" As quiet descended like a heavy blanket, Cook reached for her strap. "I shall start with you, Mr Bryce. And I shall finish with you also - you will have a double dose for your thievery. What say you to that?"

"As it pleases you, Cook." Gilbert screwed up his face and held his breath, waiting in an agony of expectation for that first slash of the strap. When it came, his eyes bulged, and his mouth opened wide in shock. He wanted to yell, but he couldn't ... the pain was so intense his vocal chords were paralysed. Down came the strap - again and again, landing heavily with a hearty crack on Gilbert's firm buttocks. At last, a noise erupted from his throat. "Yaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeee!!" he screeched. "Oh! Ow! OW! OWW!"

"Hah!" said Cook. "I see I'm having some effect. Let's give you a few stingers a little lower, shall we?"

"No!" shouted Gilbert. "I'd really rather you didn't. I - Arrrrgh!" He squealed again as the strap bit the under-curve of his buttocks, getting him right in the crease. He shook his haunches in a comical fashion, trying to deflect the pain. He bounced up and down, yelling and wriggling. His poor bottom burned and throbbed. And that wasn't all - Cook still had hold of his cock! She kept tugging at it, using it as a handle to guide him back into position.

Those who were brave enough to lift their heads to observe the proceedings saw a rare thing - Cook with a smile on her face. Oh yes. She was having such fun! She would be sure to give this young man plenty of attention in the future. He was most deserving. Giving him two more cracks with the strap, she then went round the table, meting out six strokes on each of the bare bottoms presented. The kitchen was soon filled with gasps and yelps and hollers. Her mission with the female staff accomplished, Cook bade them cover their strapped bottoms and get on with their work while she finished disciplining Gilbert. Hanging the strap back up, she instead reached for the sturdy rattan and swished it joyously through the air.

Gilbert swallowed. His backside was sore and striped - and now he had to endure the cane! But one look at the wonderfully stern face of his tormentor and he became putty in her hands, anxious to please by sticking his bottom out just as far as it could possibly go. Lines of fire burned into his skin and he wailed out his pain.

"Haha! Not so stoical now, are we boy?" said Cook. "Here - have another one." Down slashed the cane, directly across Gilbert's tortured buttocks.

He hated it. He loved it. It was terrifying. It was wonderful. It was the beginning of a very unique relationship between Gilbert and Cook. However, as stiff and sore as he was after she had done with him, there was to be no respite. Because when Cook popped out to the village on an errand, the kitchen staff turned on Gilbert with vengeance etched over their faces.

"Thief!"

"Steal the cake, huh, and get US punished!"

"Punished for something we didn't do!"

"Take off your clothes."

"All of them!"

"Now you'll find out what a real spanking feels like, Gilbert Bryce."

He did too - and he didn't even like cherry cake!



This story is available within the e-book, Bad Boy Story Book 3, available for Kindle from Amazon and in a variety of formats from LSF Publications:

Sunday, December 04, 2016

Strict Lady with Cane

It's a fact that submissive men go for strict women. I found this pic on the net. I've no idea who she is, but boy, does she look strict!



I imagine she's quite adept with that cane, striking fear into the hearts of her willing (and maybe not so willing) victims!

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Cornflakes and Kink

In the late nineteenth century Mr John Harvey Kellogg created Cornflakes, the breakfast cereal many of us have grown up with. But a little digging around reveals that Mr Kellog invented the humble cornflake to prevent masturbation and repress sexual desire, his intent being to present cornflakes as a ‘healthy, ready-to-eat anti-masturbatory morning meal.'

Hmmmn, seems that Mr Kellogg, a physician, believed that sex was not only unhealthy, it was an abomination.

He also had an obsession with bowels, and was an advocate of yogurt enemas. You can read more about him at the Museum of Quackery http://www.museumofquackery.com/amquacks/kellogg.htm

Well that all sounds like pants to me! What a fruit loop. Now if Mr Kellog had had a dominant wife, he just might have been made to see sense following the application of a damn good spanking.

I'm off to have breakfast now ... a nice slice of TOAST.