by Piper Stone
Jeep hugged her to him again. “It will be a grand adventure.”
“Like a John Wayne movie.” That phrase rang a bell in Jenny’s mind, even as she said it.
“One of the old ones,” Jeep added.
“Yes, like that.” Jenny drew the words out, extending each sound in her intense concentration.
“I know that tone,” Jeep told her. “You’re getting ideas, aren’t you?”
“I am. Do you remember? Just a few days ago, we were talking about old John Wayne movies. And cooking for large crowds, like in a B & B… or a dude ranch.”
Jeep looked down at her, with one of his ‘convince me’ looks. “We already determined we can’t have crowds.”
“We could if it was a club.”
“A club dude ranch?”
Jenny nodded, her excitement growing. “With a theme – John Wayne movies. Maybe nobody at all would come, but our friends would, to visit us, or convalesce after an injury maybe. A few weekends a year, we could go all out. Dress, eat, and even work like those old movies. We would make people apply for club membership so we could screen them, but there are folks out there who like to do re-enactments.”
“For us guys, it wouldn’t be that big a deal. I mean, jeans are jeans. But for you ladies…”
“I know I’d love it. Floating around a lovely old farmhouse in one of those beautiful dresses. We could have dances and barbeques and go on trail rides and have all kinds of fun.”
“If we did it, we’d have to do some pretty creative building. I mean, I’m all for old-fashioned living, but not old-fashioned suffering. I draw the line at outdoor privies.”
“I’m in complete agreement, Jeep. Discreetly hidden modern amenities would have to be included. I never meant to pretend to live as a nineteenth century pauper. The well-to-do had lots of comfort even back then.
“That they did. I’m beginning to see possibilities. We could hide air conditioning vents behind wardrobes and chests. Laundry facilities could be located out of the way behind locked doors.”
“We could dig a huge cellar and hide all the modern equipment we needed in there. That way if anyone got hurt, we could have the telephone and even an ATV to get help quickly.”
“I just don’t want you getting your hopes up that we’ll have people lining up to be members of this club. It might be just us most of the time we were out there.”
“Sounds fine to me. We aren’t going to live there full time, right? In and out, no set schedule, here and there, staying near the kids and seeing all the places we’ve wanted to visit but never had time.” She wondered if he would catch her going overboard to make her point. Whether he knew she was doing it on purpose or not, the effect on him was the same.
“Let’s not get carried away here. I intend to have you all to myself a lot of the time. Somewhere out in the country, just you and me, living like a movie…”
“I’m glad you’re getting into the spirit of the thing,” Jenny said, suddenly wary.
Had Jeep smelled a rat after all? He was wearing his ‘something up his sleeve’ smirk. “Oh, definitely.”
“Is there some particular point that has just occurred to you? You sound like you just found the hiding place for the cookies when nobody is around to stop you eating them all.
“I was just remembering that in some of those movies, the hero isn’t shy about taking his wayward young lady over his knee for a good old-fashioned spanking. If this is going to be a themed club, I think that would need to be one of the rules. You were saying only the other day how you wished there was a place where everybody was… on the same footing, so to speak, when it came to marriage and discipline.”
Jenny had to concede. “Yes, I was. And I think it might be a good thing. If we did have several ladies in one big house, trying to get along, it might help matters if they all knew what would happen if they made trouble.”
“I think I’d insist on it.”
“Of course, I know this is all years away. We’ll have to find the land and build the house, but that will be fun too.”
“It will be fun. A grand adventure, a ranch of our own. I’ve always thought I’d make a good cowboy.”
“I’m sure you will. You’re good at whatever you do,” Jenny sighed.
“I’m good at picking a wife anyway. Look at the treasure I got.” Jeep turned her and kissed her then, showing her in the most intimate way possible how much he cherished her.
Later, much later, when they sat up in bed to watch the sunset in the steel grey sky, Jenny put a hand on Jeep’s chest. “What a Christmas present you’re giving me, Jeep. A whole new life with so much more time together. Are you sure you’ll be satisfied without the security work?”
“I’m not saying I’ll refuse to take Tob’s calls if he wants to consult with me on something. I’ll never forget the skills I’ve honed over the years, but this vacation made me realize that I’m tired of viewing the world through security lenses. There’s more to life than protection. I want to see it. But to do that, I’ll have to get away from that office and the city. This Barty threat just brought to a head the feelings that had been festering for a while. I can’t think of any way I’d rather start a new chapter in my life than to build a new life from the ground up with you by my side.”
“A new start.” Jenny grinned mischievously up at him. “I can handle it. Of course, I don’t know much about designing a house, or supervising contractors, but I can learn.”
“You?”
“All that planning and construction sounds like it will take up a lot of time and energy. I bet you’ll be running back to Hathville begging Tobin to put you back to work for him in a month, but that’s okay. I’ll be ready to take over and run things.”
“Wanna Bet?”
The End.
Chula Stone
Chula Stone has been writing romance fiction with Domestic Discipline themes since 2004. The day she won that first short-story contest is one of her favorite memories. "The best thing about writing," Chula says, "is when the characters take over the story and make it their own. All I have to do is listen in and write down what I see and hear."
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12 Naughty Days of Christmas 2017
Carolyn Faulkner
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Carolyn Faulkner
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Christmas Captivity
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter 1
“Are you sure that this is the right place?”
Tira Franklin didn’t even bat an eyelash at the slightly impatient, raised eyebrow look her man gave her. “For the gazillionth time, yes.”
“Because the GPS said—”
She loved making him growl, even if they weren’t in bed.
“I know what the GPS said, my darling. Need I remind you of the time it tried to kill us by sending us down through the middle of Ogunquit in the midst of tourist season because it was supposedly the most efficient route to get to a restaurant? Google does not always know what it’s talking about.”
Her chauffeur-slash-lover-slash so much more than that, Baz Doyle, brought the big four-wheel drive SUV to a halt in front of a cabin she could barely see. “This is an awful lot of snow, and more’s coming down every minute. I know I wanted a white Christmas, but this is overkill. How is anyone else going to get up here? Dan has a Miata, for crying out loud, and Lake’s got that ridiculous mini Cooper!”
“Hopefully, they’ll rent SUVs, although I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they decided to bag it entirely in the face of this storm. You go inside, love, and I’ll play pack mule. I don’t want you slipping and falling in this stuff. It wouldn’t take much to lose you in a snow bank. I should make you wear a blaze orange hat or something so I could spot you easily.”
“A what?”
“You know, hunter orange? Then I could reach right in and pluck you out.”
He had already come around to her side of the car, offering a hand to help her out into the snow, which only came up to mid-calf on him, but was almost past her knees. Sometimes she envied him his height. “You okay to make it in on your own?” he asked, eyeing her closely as she tried to balance precariously with each step.
His protective instincts were always on overdrive with her, so he gave into them and caught her up in his arms, carrying her to the door. “It’s supposed to be open,” she informed him helpfully.
“And so it is,” he said, pushing against it to stand with her in the middle of the big, open room. Then he crossed to the light switches next to the door, flicking them up and down several times. “Well, I’m not all that surprised we don’t have power. You stay right here. I’ll be back with the stuff, then I’ll start a fire in the fireplace.”
Although he could be strict – as she had come to experience quite personally – she didn’t stay exactly where he put her, but instead grabbed the snow shovel she’d seen by the door, using it to clear a path for him, so that it would be easier for him to transport stuff into the cabin.
He gave her the eye, of course – because he was contractually obligated to as her Dom, she supposed – but when she met him a third of the way from the house, he didn’t say anything.
Yet.
But she also knew that what she was doing wasn’t going to go unremarked upon.
The man saw fucking everything. It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head, for fuck’s sake.
They hadn’t had an easy start of it, despite the undeniable attraction each of them had felt when they met. She had gone against her personal moratorium of not sleeping with someone on the first date – and he continued to tease her mercilessly about it. It had been an impulsive weekend-long consummation of the undeniable, unstoppable, feelings they had for each other. But there had followed a long, torturous six-month gap with no attempt at contact by either of them.
And then there had been another, shorter, sharper but no less passionate reconnection this past Thanksgiving, when he had asked for, and received, her forgiveness for having been MIA for so long, due, in some part, to circumstances beyond his control.
That was an excuse that she couldn’t claim, even though she was just as guilty of it as he was. Perhaps more so, since he had told her to call him when he’d left at the end of that mind-blowing weekend, and she had deliberately decided not to.
For which she had already been made to pay, and dearly.
But they had been together ever since then, more so than she could have imagined at first. From the time he had taken her home – sneaking her out of her best friend’s holiday festivities on the pretense of her not feeling well – he had really only allowed her out of sight because one or the other of them had to go to work.
Other than that, they pretty much lived in each other’s pockets – to the point that he had already moved her into his place, not having given her much of a choice in the situation.
“You need someone to watch over you all the time, and I can’t do that properly if you’re miles away from me. There’s no telling what kind of mischief you’ll get up to when I’m not there to stop you with a firm hand on your naughty little behind,” he had declared, and the next day, when Baz had picked her up from work, he’d taken her to his place, where all of her things already resided, albeit most of them still in boxes.
It was on the tip of her tongue to take him to task for being high handed, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t talked to her about it. He had, and he’d made his position very clear. He’d also listened carefully to her concerns, too, which was something she loved about him.
They’d always had that very precious and rare true Dom/sub click, practically from the time they were introduced. And, as he did nearly everything perfectly, it was the deepest and most fulfilling connection she’d ever had with anyone. He was very much a Dom, but a thinking one, and most importantly, a caring one. Baz always encouraged her to speak her mind to him – sans the swearing she was distinctly prone to – and he always listened to her concerns or complaints about the decisions he made in regards to her or them. And, in some cases, he’d even changed his mind about something because of what she’d said. He wasn’t afraid to do that, nor to admit when he was wrong, and he’d already proven that to her by apologizing to her when he asked her to take him back after his long absence.
But she quickly decided that this moving in with him situation was one of those “choose your battles carefully” cases. She didn’t really care where she lived, and he obviously wanted her with him. Her lease was up, and although she was saving to buy her own house, it was slow going and she certainly would have re-upped and stayed put if he hadn’t been in her life.
Besides, his house was gorgeous, had all of the amenities, and it certainly wasn’t going to be a hardship for her to live with him.
Well, not a hardship, exactly.
She’d been a bit concerned about them perhaps getting sick of each other being around each other that much. But what she really should have been thinking about was that being that close to him, pretty much twenty-four/seven, meant that the passion that they shared for one another was going to be just that much more intensified, as was the frequency and severity of her discipline right along with it.
And large parts of her wanted to say that she really, really hated the increase in punishments, and it wouldn’t necessarily have been a lie.
But other, even larger, louder parts of her were in heaven. It was a wonder she wasn’t constantly dehydrated, considering that she was always, literally, dripping wet, even when she was away from him at work.
Even now, when the rest of her was pretty frigid from the door she’d been keeping open for him, her body was still throbbing from this morning, when he’d awoken her early – as he’d threatened to. He’d slid into her from behind, his big hand splayed on her lower belly to hold her in place for him while his fingers worried nipples that were equally as tender from the night before.
Baz did his best not to wake her jarringly, loving the moment when he felt her come to consciousness with a long, low gasp. C
apturing her hands when she stretched slowly, he easily kept them both above her head in one of his, knowing how much she enjoyed being restrained while he fucked her. His other hand traveled slowly down over her chest and tummy, to tuck two fingers between swollen lips that he was gratified to see were perpetually slick.
Tira automatically struggled against his hold, but he held her firm.
“Baz, let go!” she moaned.
“No, baby,” he rasped against her shoulder before nibbling on it and making her shiver.
What was it about how that man said that simple word to her that drove her utterly crazy? It had so much power, coming from him. Perhaps that was it. She would never, ever admit it to him, but Tira adored it when he said “no” to her, when he put his foot down. Even in the stupidest of ways, in the most unexpected of situations, that word uttered from his lips to remind her to curb her behavior could make her lady parts spasm and swell in need, as it did now.
She continued to fight him for a little after he said that, but more out of feeling that she should, than because she wanted to. She felt strangely secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t going to allow her to escape no matter what she tried to do.
But then his determined fingertips found her clit and she lost the will to defy him, preferring instead to try to rock her hips away from him and into the hand that was giving her so much bliss.
Baz controlled her in that though, too, easily holding her still for the repeated invasion of his thick, hard self. Deliberately only teasing that forcibly exposed little bean with butterfly light brushes until he was very close, he then dedicated himself more carefully to her pleasure, which enhanced his own a thousand fold as she came wholly undone in his arms. He had her crying out in the throes of the agonizing ecstasy that he brought to her, held tight, surging with him, arching her bottom back against him so that he could reach even further into her, until he had spattered himself uncontrollably onto her inner walls.
