Hi, Lovely Spankazoids. Welcome to the Saturday Spankings Blog Hop. I hope you are enjoying all the warm tushies and tingly anticipation. This is my first blog hop and I am sharing an excerpt from the second novella in my Sorority Pledge Saga, Bad Girl on the Rise. (Not published yet.)
In Book 1, A Devil in Disguise, a D/s connection sparks between two inexperienced college students, Addison and Logan, on Halloween night when she is captured after chucking eggs at a mansion at the demand of her Sorority sisters, and he offers her a trip over his knee for her punishment. The sub in her recognizes the Dom in him and by the time he’s set her cheeks ablaze and made her underwear useless, she knows she has to have him.
There’s just one problem: even though Logan got swept up in the delicious power exchange and tumultuous squall of passion in equal measure, he has no intention of jumping into a lifestyle. The darkness he knows lurks within is untested, feral and raw. But he can’t resist her or the call of her warm flesh when she’s so eager and willing to please him and determined to turn them into a THIS. She keeps slipping raunchy notes into his backpack, wearing short shirts to shake her stuff in his face and doing very, very bad things that she knows he doesn't approve of.
In this scene, Addison has sought out Logan for restitution for her misdeeds and naughty behavior, but after receiving her three punishment whacks, he told her any remaining ones would be her call until she feels guilt-free and absolved, but she can't seem to let go and forgive herself.
When he hit me again on the other side, I squirmed and cried out a sobby, “Owww, oww.” The third and last punishment whack I took more gracefully, steeling myself to not move at all. I didn’t even shout out, I just gritted my teeth and let out a grunt.
Stinging slaps kept crashing into my dripping flesh, multiplying the lingering pain tenfold at every strike. I was shaking so hard, folded in half before him, I thought my knees would give way, but I tightened my grip on the bath bar, determined to not say “lilacs” until consciousness was close to falling away.
After seven whacks with the bath brush, no doubt, straight from Satan’s coffers, my ass felt on fire and ripped apart.
He lent me an exit pass again with an insistent, “Say lilacs, Addison,” as I twisted to relieve some of the sting, but I got back into position and begged for another.
When the next blast swooped into my cheeks with a deafening splat, I could no longer contain the ugly wail clawing up my throat, but so deserving of this spanking, this agony, this hell, every bit of it for of my betrayal and disobedience, I cracked out a brittle, “More.”
Have fun collecting your Saturday Spankings!