Spanking Tails III
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By: Maren Smith | Other books by Maren Smith Categories: Erotic Romance, BDSM, Short Stories, Word Count: 32,138 Heat Level: SWEET Published By: Newsite Web Services LLC
Devils and angels, good girls and bad--these eight short stories detail the lengths to which some women will go to get their naughty bare bottoms turned a rosy shade of pink. So curl up by the fireplace and let your favorite spanking fantasies run amok with Spanking Tails Volume III! These eight tales include: The Good Wife, Dragons and Dungeons, Charlie's Angel, The Price, Spankings All Around, Certifiable, Arctic Attitude, and The Dean's Office. BDSM category: spanking only NO EXPLICIT EROTIC SCENES but not suitable for under age 18 0 Ratings
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 Spanking Tails III
Available in: Adobe Acrobat, HTML, Text Price: $6.50978-1-60850-102-1 |
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Professional ReviewsExcerptThe day he met her, she was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a black short-sleeved t-shirt with the word 'Attitude' spelled out in red letters across the chest. In his lifetime, Mark guessed that he had probably dated at least a dozen or so women; Piper was the first, in his experience, to come with a warning label. In retrospect, it was probably a label that he should have taken a bit more seriously. Because five months, nine thousand miles and three continents later, when you're wintering in a crude hut on Anvers Island just off the Antarctic Peninsula, it was a bit too late to wake up and suddenly realize you might not be compatible with the woman you'd recently married. And, specifically, that kind of social oopsie did not bode well for a scientist who, one month prior to his hasty wedding, proclaimed to all and sundry that there was no such thing as love at first sight. That marriage was little more than a convenient way for a healthy guy in his sexual prime to be all but guaranteed a chance at 'getting some' at two in the morning should he wake up randy and with a pimple on the end of his nose. And then he saw Piper in that Attitude t-shirt of hers, and the rest, as they so often say in fairy tale novels, was history. Mark's insulated boots crunched over the rock and snow as he hiked to the top of the icy crest that separated their honeymoon hut, which lay behind him and, before him, the flock of Gentoo penguins that they'd been sent here to study, spread out along the shore like a thick, moving, squawking blanket of black and white tuxedos. Squas and albatrosses dotted the shoreline every few feet and flew in spiraling flocks overhead, searching for unguarded eggs. And just across the bay, the Weddell seals were calling to one another in a cacophony that echoed across the water and seemed to increase in volume as it bounced off the snow and rocks. It didn't take him long to spot Piper in her bright orange freezer suit, squatting down among the Gentoos and gathering eggs. Mark frowned. The customary hatch date for the Gentoos was well and truly past due. And not a single chick dotted the rocky banks of Arthur Harbor. Still, that wasn't what he was here for. Well, all right ... he was here for that, but it wasn't what he was here, this very exact moment in time for. Mark sighed, heavily. Then, squaring his shoulders and determined not to be sidetracked by work, he headed for Piper. She didn't so much as look up when the crunching and grinding of the rocks beneath his booted feet heralded his approach. "We need to talk," he said. "I've got nothing to say to you," she said stiffly, and turned her back to him. "Just once--just one time--I want to have a fight over something serious. Finances, or careers, nosy mother-in-laws, or who left the seat up." "Fine. You get me a seat, and I'll bitch at you for not leaving it down." "Piper.... "Frowning, Mark braced his hands on his well padded hips when she only gathered her notebook, water, ice and egg samples and started back to the station they shared. Chile hadn't sent any scientists this year, so they had the facilities, meager though they were, all to themselves. Piper's ribbon-pink mouth remained tightly clamped together. Ah, yes, the silent treatment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, very nearly laughing although the situation struck him as anything but funny. "We've got another four and a half months together," he reminded her as he fell into step behind her. "You can't ignore me for that long." She kept walking, her chin rising just a hair higher. "All right," he said grimly. "I'm not about to let you ignore me for that long." "I so hope you get eaten by polar bears," she said, and kept walking without looking at him. "We're on the wrong pole, and you're much too good of a scientist for comments like that." But at least she was talking to him. "Besides," he added. "I did warn you." "Yeah, but I didn't think you were really going to do it." He fell into step beside her again. "I told you I would." "It wouldn't be the first time you've said one thing and then done something else." He hung his head, shaking it ruefully, once more fighting the urge to laugh. "You were being a brat." "You were ignoring me." "We have been living together in a twenty by forty foot one room enclosure for the last six weeks. I have done anything but ignore you." "You were ignoring me," she said again, pointedly. "What the hell kind of honeymoon is this, anyway?" |
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