Wednesday, December 11, 2013

.We're in the home stretch of Naughty List Week. Today, Patty Devlin (who I am sure has never been on any naughty lists. har har) is my guest sharing from her story, Christmas Joy, which is part of the fabulous boxed set, The Naughty List ---Five Christmas Themed Spanking Novellas, which is currently half price. Each book is also available separately. How many different options can you get? 









Blurb for Christmas Joy by Patty Devlin

Joy hitches a ride headed to the Double R ranch, looking for a job. She is desperate to find a place to stay before the snow flies, however, she isn’t prepared for the feelings the large, sexy and entirely dominant man, who finds her, stirs up deep inside her.
Living on the road has been hard and with her past she should stay and beg for the job. But running is easier than dealing with her fears and these new feelings, isn’t it?
Nick is used to being in charge, after all he has been the one taking care of his brothers for years. So, he knows just what Joy needs—and he’s more than willing to put her over his knee and give it to her.
Nick’s also used to people leaving. He’s not used to having a chance to change it. Can he find her, convince her to trust him, and bring her back?
Will Nick be able to bring Joy into his home, his heart, and keep her there—for good, not just for Christmas?
Buy it Now! Blushing Books or Amazon 


Excerpt:
“Joy, stop the theatrics. How many times have I asked you not to say stuff about yourself like that?” In a singular motion he sat on the side of his bed and slid her down from his shoulder to his lap.
“You can’t just spank me every time I say something you don’t like!” She wiggled and bucked across his lap and he had to get a better grip on her before she slipped away. He tugged her closer under his left arm, and threw his right leg over her legs. Oh God! She was bucking right against his—
                “Stop your wiggling.” He emphasized his command with a flurry of slaps to the fullest part of her cute little bottom. “I’m tired of telling you to stop thinking for me. I can promise you, I’m not going to not want you, and I’m not going to listen to your negative views of yourself. Nothing about me is anything like being with anyone else. I promise I’m going to make you forget all that. Do you understand me?”
                “Everybody in the house understands you!”
                He wanted to laugh at her spunk, but he couldn’t give into it. He would have to find a different way to get her to zero in on him.
                “What are you doing?” she squealed. “No, stop… please…”
                He proceeded to pull her fleece pajama pants all the way down her legs and off her feet, untangling her hands when they got in the way.  “Stop kicking, Joy. I obviously needed a better way to get your attention.”
                “I’ll listen—don’t please… I’m cold…”
                “Oh, I’m going to warm you up, don’t worry. What are these?” Nick chuckled and ran his finger under the band of her red and green striped panties. They had gold lettering that said ‘Joy to the World’. “Cute. Very cute.”
                “Nick! Oh my gosh.”
                He smacked the bare skin on her cheek, just below the underwear line. After she was done squealing and he caught her small hands togetherinto one of his, he asked, “Now are you ready to listen?”
                “I’m listening, it’s you who isn’t listening to me,” she panted into his duvet.
                What did she mean? Had she said something he didn’t hear? He was staring mindlessly at that gold lettering. He wanted to trace it with his fingertips. He wanted to—
                “It’s a simple thing, get it over with already, screw me and see if you still want to marry me afterward.” Her voice was raw and broken. He almost hadn’t heard it.
                He shifted her so she was lying on the bed on her tummy instead of his lap. He held her there when she tried to get up. She looked over her shoulder at him, her blue eyes widened in fear.
                He reached for her foot and lifted it to his mouth, with his eyes still locked on hers, he kissed each of her toes, whisper soft, before moving to the pads of her feet and speaking the whole way. “I most certainly will not screw you and get it over with.” He was shaking, trying to bottle up the rage he was feeling, not toward her but the men that had made her believe that was all it was. “When we make love, it is going to be slow...”  He dragged out the last word intentionally, teasing her with soft deliberate kisses as he began to sensually tempt her body toward arousal. “I’m going to start at your feet, at your toes, and kiss every single inch of your beautiful little body.”
                He moved to her delicate ankles. Her shapely calves, his tongue couldn’t stay contained. He had to lick his way to the back of her knees. “I can’t leave this hidden place out, can I? No, every single inch.”                
He moved from her knee up the inside of her thigh to stop at her panty-line for a moment. “When I make love to you, Joy, you won’t be able to hide any part of yourself from me. These—” He slid his finger under the band of her panties before continuing, “will not be here.”
Then skimmed past her pinkened panty-clad bottom to kiss her lower back which was exposed, temptingly peeking out from under the hem of her shirt. He moved up over her back to nuzzle her neck beneath her hair. “When I make love to you, Joy, I’m going to make you sing my name, make you beg me for more, make you forget your own name, let alone those before me.”
He grabbed her elbow and flipped her over on his bed. He landed on top of her, using his elbows to brace himself so he wouldn’t crush her. Her legs opened to welcome him between them. Oh god. He crushed his mouth to hers, using his hand in her hair to hold her. Oh God. He wanted to have her, right now. One hand left her hair to find her bottom and gripped her tight to his aching—she jerked her lips from his and hissed. Oh damn it, he had to stop this… she was rocking her hips, thrusting against him.
“Take me right now, Nick. I want you.”
                “No… I… we have to stop this.” He pulled back. “I won’t do this until we are married.” He lifted his body from her and stood just as a loud knock rapped against the door.
                “Nick, I thought you were making pancakes?” Tony called.
                “Just a minute,” he croaked, then turned back to her lying there on his bed.
                What the hell was he doing? How had he gotten so carried away? “Come here, baby.” He reached for her hand and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this right now.” He looked down to find her hiding her face in his shirt. “Joy.” He tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “I want you so much right now, but I will not take you cheaply. When I have you, it will be as my wife, and it will be soon. But, make no mistake about it—I want you very much.”

A Christmas Memory From Patty: 

A funny Christmas memory? Dang, if only I had a memory...  Well, lemme see. Our first Christmas after our daughter was born, my husband and I went out with my parents and brother to get a real tree- just like my family always did. I'm sure it was beautiful. You have to find the best tree! Only the best will do... In fact we would find our tree much like the scene in my book, Christmas Joy. 

Anyway, after a couple days of having our most beautiful, wonderful, amazing (you get the picture) real Christmas tree our six month old baby girl's eyes started to swell. She'd been getting really congested and her eyes had started to drain and get crusty. It clearly wasn't a normal cold and at the same time we were beginning to think she might be having an allergic reaction, my mother-in-law told Dev it was probably the tree. It seems he was allergic to Christmas trees as a baby too. 

So out went the tree and lo and behold she did clear up pretty fast. Now that isn't the funny story. What is funny is that my redneck husband didn't want to go through buying an artificial tree, (it was only a couple days until Christmas). So while I was gone one day, he shaped the strands of Christmas lights into the shape of a tree on the wall and hung the ornaments from it. We still have the picture of it, too. It was pretty funny looking, but he was rather proud of it. Sigh.

Now, for the first time since then- we've decided to try a real tree again, and so far so good. We shall see.. 


That Dev, he sure is creative. Thanks, Patty! 



Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Naughty List Week: A Father for Nicholas by Dinah McLeod

In case you haven't heard, perhaps as the result of excessive eggnog consumption, there's a new boxed set out with a whopping five Christmas themed stories from five of my favorite spanking authors. The Naughty List is 430 spankalicious pages all in one place. And for a limited time, the boxed set is half price. No coupon necessary. 

This week I am featuring all five stories so be sure to scroll down to see if you've missed anything and come back tomorrow and the next day for more. 

I've also asked each author to share a favorite Christmas memory, so you get a little sneak peak into who is really on The Naughty List. 

Today's featured story (which can also be bought on its own) is A Father For Nicholas by Dinah Mcleod. 

Blurb:
Clara Jones no longer looks forward to Christmas with the same wide-eyed wonder of a child. A busy social worker, she sees more than her fair share of troubles every day. To her, December is a month full of bleak, depressing episodes. She is overworked and overwhelmed, and to top it off, her once delightful little boy has turned into a sullen thirteen-year-old, suspended from school for some mischief that went sour. Then along comes Adam, the too-handsome EMT who seems to have a special rapport with her son. Can he and his domestic discipline give her what she desperately needs?

Excerpt

She’d been late getting off work, late picking up her son from school. Not that he wasn’t used to it, this was the third time this week. Clara couldn’t remember when she’d been so tired, so utterly drained, and she still had to go home and cook dinner.
            “How was your day?” she asked her son, Nicholas. She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw him roll his eyes.
            “It was swell, Mom. How was your day?”
            “I don’t need attitude from you right now,” she sighed, hitting the brakes as she approached a stop sign. “It’s just a question.”
            “Yeah, whatever.”
            “There was a math test today, right?”
            “Mom.” He couldn’t have sounded more annoyed if he tried, and he was trying.
            “I am supposed to take an interest in you, Nick. You may hate it, and you know what? So do I sometimes. Still, I’m your mom, and I’m asking you how your test went.”
            He sighed heavily, as though he couldn’t see how someone so cool could be related to him. “I bombed it, OK? Happy now?”
            She glanced sharply over her shoulder. “No, I am not happy now. I thought you said you were ready. What happened?”
            “Look, it’ll be what it’ll be, OK? There’ll be other tests, trust me.”
            “That’s not the point. What if—”
            “Hey, Mom, is that your phone?” he asked with another loud sigh. His third since he’d gotten into the car.
            “Yes,” she replied, tight-lipped and annoyed at the distraction. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard it ringing, same as he had.
            “Are you gonna get it?”
            Glancing in the rearview mirror again, she saw his long, sandy bangs falling over his dark eyes that looked so much like his father’s that it hurt her every time she saw them. Thirteen. Everyone had told her it would be a bitch, and they weren’t lyin’. She reached down and picked up the ringing phone. She hit “reject” and set it down again without so much as a word. She knew who’d be on the other end: another bill collector, another snotty-nosed man judging her when she admitted that she couldn’t pay. But he was probably balding and being cheated on by his wife, so it all worked out. At least, that’s what she told herself.
She knew Nicholas thought himself a man—didn’t all teenage boys? Especially those without fathers, like her son. His dad had been out of the picture—she usually claimed he was dead, because it stopped conversation flat and didn’t garner the curious stares and awkward questions that had followed them for three years now. Everyone told her she should start dating, get back out there again. They thought all she needed was a handsome, authoritative man to come into her life and set things right. The thought of having to meet someone and gain their interest was exhausting. She’d much rather go home and have a nice, hot bath and pretend to be someone else.

Buy link for A Father For Nicholas: Amazon

Dinah's Christmas Memory:

                When I was growing up more often than not we spent Christmas is Louisiana with my grandparents. “We” consisted of myself, my sister, and four cousins. There was only one boy in the whole lot, and we girls shared a room. Now, normally all five of us piled up in bed together on Christmas Eve. One of us would wake up to signal to the others and we’d creep down the hall, past the closed bedroom doors and go have a look at our gifts. (Our parents left a lot of them unwrapped so you could see most of your toys if you got up in the middle of the night!)
                The Christmas I was eight it was business as usual. I don’t remember what happened, but somehow I ended up sleeping with my mom. I’m certain it must have been a punishment for something—and I’m equally as certain that I was wrongly convicted! I was very cute at eight, y’all!
                Anyway, somehow I managed to forget the change of bed routine and ended up shaking my mom awake in the middle of the night. “C’mon!” I whispered. “Let’s go see our presents!”
                “What?” she asked sleepily, and hearing her voice, my heart jumped into my throat as I realized my mistake.
                “I had a nightmare,” I replied, still in a whisper.

                Somehow, my mother never did remember that conversation and it’s a Christmas memory that I’ve never forgotten. I can’t remember what I got that year, but I will probably never forget almost outing myself to my mom for the snooper I was! She still has no idea…what do you think, should I tell her?

That was some quick thinking, Dinah! 

Monday, December 9, 2013

Naughty List Week Continues with Something Has To Give by Maren Smith

Hohoho! Today Maren Smith is here to share an excerpt from Something Has To Give which can be purchased on it's own or as part of The Naughty List which is a collection of Five Christmas Spanking Stories which I am featuring every day this week. Each author is also sharing a fun Christmas memory. 
Blurb: Freshly divorced and newly-discharged from the military, Quint Rydecker comes home for the first time since his wife left him, expecting to find his house empty and quiet.
Elsie Redding thinks she’s found a place to call her own–an old abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the Utah desert–where she might finally evade the debts and hard times haunting her.

Now, like soldiers on opposing fields, Quint and Elsie wage war with that old farmhouse as the only prize. Both are determined to get rid of the other before winter closes in. But no matter how much she tries, Elsie can’t seem to harden herself against the guilt of taking Quint's home; no matter how much he tries, Quint can't resist the lovely, kissable and all-too spankable Elsie’s charms.

Something will have to give, and it might just be their hearts. 

Excerpt:

“I mean when I get out.” His faint, smirking smile thinned. “Because I will get out, and when I do, I’m going to put you back over my knee. Before I’m through with you, you’re going to wish you’d been born without a bottom. And that’s only if you untie the rope right now and let me out. Because if you don’t…well—” That faint smile of his thinned even more. “—guess what I found in the linen closet.”

He reached up into the sink and pulled a wooden-backed brush into view. The handle seemed a little short for a bath brush, but also a little too long for a hairbrush. Exactly what it was didn’t really matter, she supposed. When he tapped it against his palm and fixed that deadly serious look on her through the reflection of the compact again, the skin across her bottom positively crawled.

Snatching the compact out from under the door so she couldn’t see the way he was looking at her helped, but not a lot. She shoved the two lids under the door. “I hope you choke,” she hissed, backing anxiously away from the door. She wasn’t rubbing her bottom, she told herself fiercely. She was just wiping the sensation of being anywhere near him off her hands.

“What,” he called through the door. “No water?”

“Drink from the tap, you…you animal!” she spat and fled for the stairs.

She could hear him laughing, a hard and bitter sound, all the way back to the kitchen. God, her heart was beating a mile a minute. She bellied up to the sink, falling down to rest her elbows on the thin ledge of counter between the old porcelain and the laminate edge. Covering her scalding hot face with both hands, she tried to think. This was awful, this was impossible. How was she expected to co-exist—even for just a short amount of time—with someone who dealt with women by spanking them? This was the twentieth century, damn it! Who did that anymore?

Well, there was no way she was going to let him out when he was still in that abusive frame of mind. No way at all. Maybe after he’d spent a night or two trying to bed down in the tub he’d be more amenable.

A shadow crossed the window, startling her upright. Her jaw gaped and she stared as two bare feet dropped down from the second floor to become the naked calves (very manly, but naked calves), and then the knees and thighs (hard, thick, muscular thighs that bulged as his feet scrambled to find something to brace against) followed by hips that were clad in nothing but a pair of white briefs (holy Hannah, that bulge). The wooden-backed brush was slung gun-slinger-style in the waist of his underwear, with the bristled head poking up and the tip of that long handle protruding from under the elastic of his right leg. Feet finally finding something other than the glass of the kitchen window to push against, he gave a hop and dropped the rest of the way to the ground.

Eyes huge and mouth hanging open, Elsie stared as Rydecker stood up. He was just tall enough for his head and the top of his naked shoulders to peek up above the windowsill. His dark eyes narrowed. His breath steamed the air, looking for all the world like a dragon seething smoke.

“Oh…shit…” Elsie said.

Moving very slowly, Rydecker took the hairbrush out of his underwear and pointed at her with it through the glass. “You,” he growled. “Your ass is mine.”

Christmas Memory:

When we first moved to Kansas we were pretty darn broke. DH (Dear Hubby, not Dickhead) had found a job after almost two years and we were starting to pull things together, but that Christmas was tight. There were no presents that year, which was okay because we don't have kids so we don't celebrate that way. But what we usually did and which we couldn't that year was pick names off the Salvation Army's Wish Tree. We usually picked a senior, a disabled person, and a child and those were who we usually buy presents for at the holidays. But we weren't able to that first year, and that hurt. What's worse, there was no Christmas tree.

Now, one thing you should know about me is, I love Christmas lights. I go out every weekend in December, pick a direction and drive easily 50+ miles just to look at the houses all decked out in lights. I'll take light nets and hang them up on my bedroom walls, so I can go to sleep all month long surrounded by sparkling, pretty lights. But that first year here, we couldn't do any of that. We couldn't even afford a tree. So, one afternoon about a week from Christmas, in a blue funk, my sister and I decorated the filing cabinet instead. Draping it in every net light we had, we hung ornaments on the wires, put the treetop star on the center cabinet, and when DH came home from work, we told him it was the Christmas Filing Cabinet. Everyone laughed. It was an instant pick-me-up for all of us. We turned on Christmas music, turned off the lights, and sat drinking Wassail around these three old, beat up, gray-metal, decorated in dinosaur stickers filing cabinets. It was the best Christmas.

For the next three years, we purposefully decorated the Christmas Filing Cabinet over a tree. We made it a postcard one year and sent it to the relations along with my traditional Christmas letter. This year is the first year we've decided to actually buy a tree since we moved to Kansas, but the Christmas Filing Cabinet is a tradition now and I'll keep it up for as long as I have a cabinet to decorate.
 

Sunday, December 8, 2013

It's Naughty List Week! Everything Christmas by Maddie Taylor

Woohoo. I have wrangled all five of the fabulous authors of The Naughty List to be my guests this week. The Naughty List is an anthology of 5 Christmas Themed Spanking Novels. Each novel is available for sale separately but bargain hunters will want to buy the boxed set which includes all five stories and is half the price of buying the books separately. 
I've also asked each author to share a fun Christmas memory. Should be interesting. Be sure to stop by every day this week for a new post and excerpt. 

We start the week off with Maddie Taylor and her story. 

The Naughty List is a collection of holiday stories from some of your favorite romance and spanking authors like Patty Devlin, Dinah McLeod, Renee Rose, Maren Smith and of course, yours truly Maddie Taylor.  We have teamed up to bring you five brand spanking new novellas, all filled with sexy hunks, sassy heroines and plenty of holiday spankings and cheer.  A word of caution, I've seen a lot of boxed sets this year, but they seem to be repackaged old releases from Christmas past.  Ours are brand spanking new, pun intended.   I hope you'll enjoy them all.  Here's a little sneak peak from my contribution.

Buy link for The Naughty List box set:   Amazon 
                                                                    Amazon UK


The blurb for "Everything Christmas" 

New in town, Merry has been so busy with opening her new store, that she hasn't really had time to unpack! She always seems to be in a rush and accidents seem to follow her around like sleigh bells at Christmas. Her new neighbor, the hunky tall guy in a cop's uniform, is definitely drool-worthy, but he always seems to be cross with her about something, and  he even issued her three tickets!  All in the same day!  So no one is more surprised than Merry when he rushes to rescue her from what could have been a nasty situation.

Reese has had his heart broken before, and he's not eager to go through that again, so he intentionally dates a string of women that are definitely NOT his type.  Unfortunately, the cute little red-head across the street is exactly what he would look for in a woman - if he were looking.  He tries to keep her at arm's length by being intentionally rude, but if ever a woman needed a protector more, he'd yet to meet her.  Seriously, he wondered how she'd made it this far already!

The excerpt:
As she sat in a fog, completely depleted of energy, she debated whether to get up and go, or just pass out. She'd just opted in favor of passing out, when a movement in the window caught her attention.  Across the street was a man dressed only in running shorts and shoes.  He was stretching his legs against a tree.  She figured he'd just finished a run because his sweat drenched body was glistening in the late evening sun.  Her eyes traveled over his tight, toned muscular body with pleasure.  When he bent down to pick up a water bottle, his shorts pulled snugly against his tight rear and her breath caught in her throat. The man had the body of a Greek God.    
            He began stretching his back muscles, twisting at the waist until he was looking directly at her condo. Their eyes met from across the street and she suddenly realized that she was pressed against her front window gawking at him.   He smiled and gave her a quick nod before walking up the drive and entering the house directly across the street.  Holy Moly!  The Adonis was her neighbor. 
            A hand rose to her chin, checking for drool.  Thankfully finding none, she swallowed her mortification before rushing to the kitchen to grab her purse.  How could she have gotten off the couch and walked across her carton littered floor without knowing it?  What had kept her from tripping over something in the moving day mess?  It must be low blood sugar she decided, that had her completely embarrassing herself in front of the man.  She needed food, stat!

Buy Link for Everything Christmas:  Amazon
                                                             Amazon UK

Christmas memory:
Like Reese and Merry, I also have a romantic scene of making love beneath the Christmas tree.  It was my first Christmas with my husband, the lights were off except for the glow from the 400 twinkling lights on our first Christmas tree.  Just as we were getting busy, the tree began to shake.  All the glass bulbs were tinkling and a few fell off and rolled away.  What on earth???  All of a sudden, this furry creature lept onto the tree, climbing higher and higher toward the glimmering star atop the 6 ft tall Douglas fir.  WTF my husband said as the tree swayed back and forth and finally toppled over as we both tried to catch it, both butt naked standing in front of our picture window.

No, it wasn't as in Chevy Chase's Christmas Vacation.  It was my darling puss, Bandit.  Evidently, it was his first Christmas tree, too.  He never did get that star on top.  I guess when you're only 10 pounds of fluff, falling from a 6 ft high tree can put you off your game.  However, by the end of the season, all of my bulbs and other ornaments were at the top of the tree and my bottom half was butt naked.  <teehee> 

Love the story, Maddie! Thanks for sharing. 

Friday, December 6, 2013

Get Ready for The Naughty List Week

Hi Everyone! Are you wondering where my Saturday Spankings post is? I'm going out of town for a few days and won't have a chance to visit the other Saturday Spankers so I decided not to participate this week. I know it's not a requirement that I visit any of the other blogs (and I might just do it for brownie points if I have time) but I'm rushing to get ready for a trip and a Saturday Spankings Post just didn't happen this week.

But, never fear. I've got lots of great spanks coming your way. Sunday is the first day of The Naughty List Week here on my blog.

The Naughty List is an anthology of five Christmas themed spanking novellas. Each day one of the authors will be here with an excerpt and a Christmas memory of their own to share. So get rested up, it's going to be a big week.

And while I'm gone, be sure to get your spank on with all these Saturday Spankers.

Spanking Stories Book Club--- Meet Millie

Hi Everyone! For December we are going to do some different things for Spanking Stories Book Club because 1. I want to. 2. I hope it's fun. and 3. I have a feeling few of us will have time to read a book a week.

Today I am sharing a short story I wrote about a year ago. It's rather different from my usual and I'm not sure it has any commercial value, but I thought I'd share it and see what you all think. This is mostly unedited so please don't be too picky about those things.

Millie Rules the World
Ass-sertiveness Training
It was another sun shiny perfect morning in the neighborhood. Millie picked up the pace of her morning walk, alternating a single hand weight and the leash of her dog, Chocolate Chip, from hand to hand in order to get an even workout for both arms.
When she rounded the corner of Blissful Lane she pulled up short. Poor Chocolate Chip yelped when his collar didn’t keep up with his jaunty pace. The dog looked back at Millie, his doggy brows wrinkled in confusion. Everyone, canine, feline and human, knew that once Millie was in motion, whether walking, cooking, talking or any of her other activities, she never stopped until the task was accomplished.
Something wasn’t right. Julia Swanson, who usually dressed impeccably in classic suits and dresses, walked to her car wearing a pair of baggy pants, an untucked blouse, and flat shoes that could have been slippers. Her hair, which usually lay smoothly against her shoulders, was pulled back into a tight, headache inducing bun.
Millie, not wanting to upset Julia, continued her walk giving the younger woman a jaunty wave and wishing her a good day.
But Millie, who many believed had some sort of sixth sense about the people and happenings in Shangri La Estates, knew all was not well with Julia.
She continued her walk, completing the two mile loop that took her down every street of Shangri La Estates, and finished up back at her own house.
“Looks like we’re going to need some snicker doodles today, Chipper” she said to the little dog when she hung up his leash on the hook for that purpose.
Millie liked order and her house reflected that passion in every detail. A series of hooks near the back door held Chocolate Chip’s leash, Millie’s jacket, her purse, a stack of reusable shopping bags, and an empty hook where her husband would hang his coat when he returned from work later that day.
She retrieved a homemade treat for Chocolate Chip from a bone shaped cookie jar on the counter and tossed it to the eager dog. She washed her hands and pulled out a well worn cookbook.
Chocolate Chip scampered after the treat, pulled it out from under the kitchen table where it had bounced, then ran to his white dog bed in the corner of the room where he devoured the goody and curled up for a nap.
“Easy for you,” Millie said to the dog when it stretched and yawned, “I think one of my girls is in trouble and I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
‘Get to the bottom of this’ she said to herself and snickered a tiny bit.
She busied herself around the kitchen gathering the ingredients for the cookies she knew she needed to make. Out of habit more than necessity, she opened the cookbook to the snicker doodle recipe and ran her finger down the nearly brittle page.
The cookbook was really an old bound ledger book. The recipes were all handwritten in a spidery scrawl by Millie’s great grandmother. She’d never met the woman for whom she was named, but through the ritual of baking Millie felt connected to the women of her past and hoped the results of her baking would help her connect with Julia, who although she wasn’t a relative was still very much a part of what Millie referred to as her ‘family.’
The wooden spoon beat against the sides of the mixing bowl with particular vehemence as Millie considered what she’d observed that morning while creaming together butter and sugar.
To the untrained eye, it might not have seemed like much, but to Millie, Julia’s dramatic change in work attire seemed out of place and signaled a bigger problem. Millie considered the possibilities. A broken washing machine? A last minute spill? Maybe she was pregnant and didn’t want to let anyone know just yet.
             Millie sighed. There was no point in wondering. She’d find out soon enough. 
             She rolled the dough into little balls and tossed them in a cinnamon and sugar mixture before carefully placing them on a cookie sheet and sliding them into the oven.
Later that afternoon Millie placed a flowered linen napkin on a dessert plate, arranged her snicker doodles in a gravity defying heap and headed over to Julia’s house.
******
Julia dropped her brief case in a chair by the front door and headed for the kitchen to start dinner. She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror and stopped to look.
Was this her new persona? Dumpy and sloppy?
She thought about her closet filled with tasteful tailored clothing and sadness gripped her heart. Was it time to donate it all? Maybe she could call one of those groups that help women re-entering the work force. Surely they’d have plenty of women who could benefit from the professional wardrobe that she’d been building for the last ten years.
Resentment and anger replaced sadness. Why was it up to her to look horrible in order to avoid a situation that wasn’t her fault in the first place?
The unfairness of it all filled her with rage and she stomped to the kitchen and chopped vegetables with a vengeance.
By the time she finished taking out her frustration on the rutabagas her blood pressure had returned to normal. When the doorbell rang she put down the knife and headed for the front door. Out of habit, she checked her reflection in the hallway mirror and turned away in annoyance before looking through the window by the door to see Millie carrying a plate of cookies.
Uh oh.
*****
Millie followed Julia into the kitchen and surveyed her outfit from behind. It was even worse than she’d suspected. Julia’s nicely rounded bottom was buried in an avalanche of fabric that seemed to move separately from the rest of her body.
Julia fussed over the cookies and told Millie that she shouldn’t have. Millie told her it was no problem at all and that she was glad to have a reason to make a batch for someone who would enjoy them. After they dispensed with the niceties, Millie got down to business.
“Julia, something seems different about you. Is everything okay?” She smiled across the kitchen table at the younger woman.
Julia looked away and answered “Oh, everything is fine.”
Millie got up from the table, poured a glass of milk for each of them and resumed her seat. “I like chatting over milk and cookies, don’t you?” She smiled at Julia, but the other woman didn’t smile back.
The lack of response spurred Millie forward. “Julia, you know I care about all the women here in Shangri La as though they were my daughters.” Julia focused on dunking a cookie in her glass of milk, but she nodded in response to Millie’s statement. “That’s why I was so concerned when I saw you this morning. You never dress this way. I hope it’s just because it was office moving day or maybe your washer is on the fritz, but I wonder if there’s something else going on.”
Julia perked up. “That’s it. The washer has been acting up. I’m sure Dave will have it fixed soon and then everything will be back to normal.” Julia stood up as though to end the little tete a tete.
“I’m glad that’s all it is.” Millie stood as well. “But, maybe I can help. I know how busy Dave is and I’m pretty handy with most major appliances. Why don’t you let me take a look?”
Millie saw the look of panic in Julia’s eyes which confirmed her suspicion that the young woman had been lying to her. Millie did not take to lying well, but she maintained a calm countenance. No point in spooking Julia just yet.
“Oh no!” Julia’s voice was a screech. “I’m sure Dave will get to it tonight. Besides, I’m sure you need to get home and start your own dinner.”
Millie smiled. “It’s no problem at all,” she said and walked from the kitchen to the adjoining laundry room. “Besides, I’ve got a chicken stew in the crockpot so dinner at my house is all taken care of. Now let me take a look at that temperamental washer of yours.”
****
Julia felt panic well up from her stomach, along with a cinnamon taste from the snicker doodles. She’d heard tales from the other women in the neighborhood about Millie’s visits.
Millie was the head of the homeowners’ association and she took her duties very seriously. To be fair, all of the women who had whispered to her of the punishments Millie was prone to meting out told her that Millie’s intervention had been just the thing they needed, even if it hadn’t seemed that way at the time.
Now Julia had the problem which resulted in a major wardrobe shift plus the fact that she was about to be caught in a lie by Millie. It was hard to imagine that she’d be grateful for it, ever.
She pushed past her guest and got to the washer first, twisting and turning the knobs in an impressive display of nothing.
“Dear, let me give it a try.” Millie’s hand on Julia’s wrist was firm and brooked no opposition. For a small woman, Millie was surprisingly strong and she wedged herself between Julia and the washer and pushed the younger woman back with her butt so that Julia’s arms could no longer reach the knobs she’d been turning for dramatic effect.
With the flick of her wrist, Millie had water running into the washing machine. She turned the appliance off, then faced Julia.
“Wow, thank you so much. I can’t believe you fixed that so easily.” Julia hoped her enthusiasm would distract Millie, but this was not Millie’s first time in a laundry room.
“Now,” Julia felt Millie’s eyes piercing hers, “why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
“Nothing. Really. Now that you’ve fixed the washer, and I’m sooo grateful to you for that, I’ll be able to have clean clothes for tomorrow and I won’t have to wear these baggy pants.”
To Julia’s shock, Millie seemed satisfied. “Good,” she smiled. “Why don’t you just lean over and look behind the washer to make sure all the hoses are still connected properly so I’m sure it’s still working before I leave?”
Happy to oblige, Julia leaned over the washer and peered behind the machine. She reached down to feign adjusting the hoses, but before her hand reached the back of the machine, she felt a hard swat on her hind end. Startled, she raised up, but a firm hand on the small of her back held her in place.
Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m getting to the bottom of this,” Millie said, her voice surprisingly pleasant considering the pain she was inflicting. “First I’m going to give you a few swats for lying to me. How can I help you with your problems if you lie to me? It hurts to know my girls don’t trust me.”
That’s not the only thing that hurts, Julia thought as a few more swats landed on her butt. Even through all the extra material of her baggy pants, Millie was landing some serious spanks and a burn was spreading across her cheeks.  
“I’m sorry, Millie. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
Millie moved from smacking Julia’s buttocks to swatting the tops of her thighs. “No, you shouldn’t have. Makes me think you’ve got more that you need to tell me.”
“Oh Millie, I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone. It’s too embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than being laid over your washing machine and spanked?” Millie punctuated each word with a hard swat in the center of Julia’s butt. Tears started to form in Julia’s eyes, though she wasn’t sure if they were from the pain, which was considerable, or her own frustration and sadness.
It would be nice to tell someone.
But she just couldn’t. What would Dave say if he found out?
She buried her face in the baggy sleeves of her blouse and wept. She knew she should be concerned about getting make up on the blouse, but it was so ugly she didn’t care. Ugly clothes. That’s what the future held for her, especially if she didn’t tell anyone.
Julia felt herself lifted from the cold washing machine and gathered into Millie’s arms. Her face was pressed into a shoulder that smelled of cinnamon and sugar. Hands that had just warmed her bottom stroked her back in soothing circles. “There, there. Let it out. You can tell me.”
****
Seated back in the kitchen, Julia seemed to have gathered herself and Millie listened as she explained the situation which lead to her wearing feed-sack-like clothing.
“There’s a man at work, Carl, who keeps making sexual comments to me. I’ve asked him to stop but he won’t. I’ve told my supervisor, but he won’t do anything. When I finally told Dave about it, he said that it was probably because I was flirting with the guy and I should not wear such sexy clothes.” Julia’s lip quivered and a fresh stream of tears slid silently down her cheeks. Millie waited patiently for her to compose herself and continue.
“I-I wanted Dave to do something. To take my side. At least rant and rave about the guy being an asshole, but instead he just told me to wear less flattering clothes so now I have to wear these baggy clothes instead of the nice clothes that I love.” She took a deep steadying breath and broke off a piece of snicker doodle to nibble.
“Maybe Dave is right. Maybe it is my fault.”
Anger pulsed in Millie’s veins. She couldn’t decide which was worse, Julia’s situation at work or at home. But, given that her husband was supposed to love, honor and cherish her, it certainly seemed that his actions were the biggest affront to Julia’s dignity and pride.
“Do you think that the clothes you wore invited this man’s comments?” Millie’s spoke softly, as though talking to a frightened child.
Julia finished her cookie and thought for a moment. “No. And even if they did, it still wasn’t right for him to talk to me that way.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Millie reached across the table and squeezed her young friend’s hand. “So, what are we going to do about it?”
****
After a dinner of Millie’s crockpot chicken stew with snicker doodles for dessert, Julia and Dave had a quiet evening at home.
With Millie’s dinner already prepared, Julia had time to make a mad dash to the mall for the supplies needed to enact the plan she and Millie had concocted that afternoon.
Dave was already in bed watching TV when Julia joined him under the covers. He reached for her without taking his eyes off the screen then suddenly turned in alarm.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He had a handful of flannel in his hand.
During her drive to and from the mall Julia had practiced what she’d say so she could keep a straight face and also so she wouldn’t crumble under her husband’s questioning.
“It’s a new nightgown. Do you like it?”
“Nightgown? It’s like something Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother would wear.” He reached out to touch her head. “You’re not wearing one of those frilly caps too, are you?”
Darn. Wish I’d thought of that. Julia stifled a giggle.
Dave threw back the covers and looked at his wife, covered from chin to ankle in flannel with her feet stuffed into fuzzy socks.
“Is this a joke?”
“No, it’s not a joke at all.” Julia was proud that her voice hadn’t wavered. “You told me I needed to wear more baggy clothes, so I’m just following your instructions.”
Dave sat up, the television forgotten, “that was just at work, not at home.”
“Well,” Julia was all sweetness, “if you’re concerned about me inviting unwanted attention at work, I figured you’d want to make sure I didn’t do the same thing at home. You know there are lots of good looking men in the neighborhood. I’d hate to tempt or be tempted.” Julia smiled at her husband and reached for the bedcovers.
“I don’t want you to dress this way for me. I’m your husband.”
“Well, if you’re my husband, then act like it. If you want to make sure other men stay away, why don’t you make sure they know I’m your wife instead of just making me go around in ugly clothes? What the hell is wrong with you? What happened to the fierce, protective man I married?”
With that, she pulled the bed clothes up to her chin, rolled over and went to sleep.
*****
The TV was still on and Dave tried to make himself interested in the show , but while his wife slept blissfully by his side, her words echoed through his head.
Damn. She was right. When had he become such a wimpy yes man?
He remembered a time when they were first married and Julia had attended an office party with him. His own supervisor had flirted blatantly with Julia. Dave, unconcerned for his professional aspirations, had socked the man in the eye. Fortunately for Dave, the owner of the company was a woman of good sense who admonished him for his use of violence but secretly praised him for watching out for his wife.
Now the same thing was happening at Julia’s job and not only was he not there to protect her, he’d basically blamed her.
What had happened to him? Where had Dave gone?
*****
Julia woke up the next morning surprised at how well she’d slept. Maybe there was something to this flannel nightgown after all.
Dave wasn’t on his side of the bed, but he often got up before she did to go running, so she didn’t give it much thought. She showered and returned to her room to dress. When she reached for the clothes she’d laid out the night before, a denim jumper two sizes too large that could double as a maternity dress and a long sleeved blouse, they were missing. In their place she found a favorite black dress.
Although she’d never believed in clothing elves, she wondered if they might be responsible for this change of plans. Regardless, she donned the dress and her spirits soared.
******
Despite wearing a flattering dress, Julia’s confidence withered away on the drive to work. What if Carl, the guy who’d been saying all those icky things, made another comment? What would she say?
Was she over-reacting? Maybe he was just being nice.
Her gut told her otherwise. That creepy feeling she got whenever he was around wasn’t wrong.
Still, her tummy fluttered as she pulled into the parking lot at work. The fact that Dave hadn’t come back from his run before she left also made her uneasy. They hadn’t exactly followed that old adage about not going to bed mad.
Why did men have to be such pinheads?
If I had an answer to that I wouldn’t have to work here every day. 
She grabbed her briefcase and strode toward the front door.
Movement next to the building caught her eye and a silhouette caught her attention. She’d recognize that stance anywhere. Dave.
Stepping cautiously into the alley next to her building she moved toward Dave who waved her closer. Muffled sounds drew her attention to the left and shock and horror coursed through her.
A man was kneeling over a bench. Was that a bare butt? It sure wasn’t attractive, just sort of white and pasty. She felt a little bit of her breakfast moving up her throat.
“Dave, what the hell is going on here?”
Dave prodded the bare assed man with his toe. “Carl, say good morning to Julia.”
Carl turned to look at Julia over his shoulder. His eyes were wild and his usual bravado was long gone. “Julia, help me. He’s crazy.”
Julia looked back down the alley toward the parking lot. What if someone saw them? Maybe Dave had snapped.
                “You were right when you told me I’d turned into a wimpy yes man so I decided to do something about it.”
“And you thought that forcing a man to go around bare assed in an alley was the way to do it?”
“No, that wasn’t my first thought. My first thought was to strangle him and bury the body parts in various fields around town, but then I decided that I should share the fun with you.”
“You want me to help you spread the body parts around?” Maybe he had snapped.
Dave gave her an exasperated look. “No, I just thought that since you were the one who was wronged by this douche bag, you ought to be the one to inflict the punishment.” He handed her a paddle with a long wooden handle. “Your target is that large doughy white blob over there.”
“Dave! I can’t do that. He’ll have us arrested.”
“Don’t worry honey, Carl and I already talked about it and he’s agreed that this is a much better way to handle things. Besides, if he has us arrested, his wife will find out why we had to take such drastic measures and you don’t want that, do you Carl?”
Carl, who had been silent since using the C word to describe Dave, shook his head. “No, please don’t tell my wife.”
Was that a quiver in his voice?
“Come on Julia,” Dave touched her elbow and gently moved her into place. You know you want to. Just think about all the horrible things this man has said to you. How that made you feel.”
It was so tempting. The weight of the paddle felt good in her hands. But no. She couldn’t.
“Carl,” Dave called out to the now whimpering man across the bench, “remember what we talked about.”
Carl took a deep breath then said “Please spank me Julia. It’s what I deserve for being such a pig to you.”
Dave gestured with his head toward Carl and his pale behind. “You heard what he said.”
Julia reared back with the paddle and let the weight of it fall downward and make contact with Carl’s ass. It wasn’t a hard swat, but the man yelped in surprise.
“I don’t think he really thought you’d do it, Julia.” She could hear the pride in Dave’s voice. “Carl, did you know that Julia was the district champ in tennis when she was in high school?”
“N-nooo.”
“I bet you don’t really know anything about Julia except the fact that she’s an attractive woman, do you?”
“Sure, I do.” Carl’s voice sounded unsure but desperate.
“Well, I’m a fair minded man,” Dave said walking around the bench so that Carl could see him. “If you can tell me three personal things about Julia that have nothing to do with her appearance, you can pull your pants up and get the hell out of here. But if not, my little tennis player is going to go all Martina Navratilova on your big bare ass. What do you think of that?”
“O-okay,” Carl sounded hopeful. “She’s an only child.”
“Wrong!” Dave’s voice sounded like a buzzer from a television quiz show. He pointed at Julia and gave a nod and she swung the paddle and connected with a ‘thwack’ that echoed through the empty alley.
“Care to try again?”
“Uh, she, she was a tennis player in high school!” Carl’s voice sounded triumphant.
Dave shook his head, chagrined. “Carl, Carl, Carl. I just told you that.”
He signaled his wife and this time she swatted with even more enthusiasm. That bastard had worked down the hall from her for three years and didn’t know one damn thing about her. She gave him an extra swat just because she felt like it.
By now, Carl was whimpering and his butt was turning a rosy shade of red.
“Last chance Carl,” Dave said. “I bet you can’t even name one thing about Julia.”
“She’s married to a crazy man.”
This time Julia didn’t wait for Dave’s signal. She let fly with the wooden paddle. “Nope, Carl. He’s not a crazy man. We’re just a couple of crazy kids in love and we’re not going to put up with crap from you.”
She punctuated her words with steady swats. The wooden handle felt good in her hands and with each swat she reminded Carl of the demeaning statements he’d made to her.
“Maybe the next time you call someone ‘sweet cheeks’ you’ll think about this instead.” She landed a wallop that went across both cheeks of his ass.
“And the next time you think about peeking down a woman’s blouse, I want you to remember this.” Another smack across the ass. This time the sound of Carl’s sniffling echoed through the alley.
“Reaching across me at the conference table and brushing your arm against my breasts.” Smack.
“Sending emails to everyone in the office with your ignorant sexist jokes.” Kerwump.
“Leering at the interns.” Crack.
Julia had no idea how many times she landed the paddle on Carl’s rear end, though eventually she was exhausted, but exhilarated.

Dave had stood up for her and she had stood up for herself. 


The End. 

I wrote this in response to a situation a friend of mine had and my frustration over her husband's behavior. Sadly, my friend's husband never stood up for her (it wasn't a sexual harassmment thing but something else where he was a total wimp and didn't come to his wife's defense). 

  • How often do things in your personal life inspire a story? 

  • I have ideas for other Millie stories where she goes around spanking people for bad behavior, mostly all the things that annoy me. Would you be interested in reading more? If so, would you be willing to pay to read more? Seriously, you won't hurt my feelings. I'm curious. 

  • Should Julia have given Dave a few swats too? 

  • What's your favorite cookie? 

  • Any other thoughts on this story? I'd really like to know what you think. 


Thanks!