Tag Archives: lesbian spanking

Caught In Kitties | B.R.A.T. Excerpt

Running to escape the slaps, Sakura hurtled into their quarters, her hands covering her backside. “I get to go out,” she crowed. “And you can’t stop me!” She jumped up on the bed, beaming broadly. “I get to go ouuuutt, and you can’t stooop me,” she sung, dancing back and forth, clothy kitty heads bouncing in time with her excited motion. Continue reading

Retro Lesbia Spank

The very first time Ayla spanked Atrocious… from the book Over Witch’s Knee, and the ongoing Lesbia Chronicles series.

“Are you always in the habit of spying on people?”

“Sometimes?” Atrocious answered the question with a question as her eyes darted around the room. She was looking for a way out, but Ayla was blocking her way fairly effectively. Sure she could have maybe pushed past her or applied a little more physical force if necessary but Atrocious was not given to outright aggression in most instances, and certainly not against beautiful ladies she’d recently seen in compromising situations. There was also the magic to consider, oh, and the fact that Ayla was bigger than she was. None of those things would help if worst came to worst.

“Someone should teach you a lesson,” Ayla purred, reaching out towards Atrocious with her fingers splayed. “A lesson in when to look and when not to look.”

“Listen, I…” Atrocious began to apologize, but before she could finish the sentence her vision went black. She uttered a shriek of fear, afraid that Ayla might have killed her and that she was looking into the void of her own non-existence, but a hand on her knee and a voice that was quickly becoming familiar spoke.

“Calm down.”

“Calm down?” Atrocious pawed at her eyes, trying to pry away whatever was preventing her from seeing. “I can’t see! I’m blind!”

An amused chuckle floated to her as the hand patted her knee. “It’s just a spell. It will wear off after a time.”

Atrocious could hear a smile in the woman’s voice. It did not make her feel any better about her situation. She took a deep breath. She was clearly dealing with a mad witch of one description or another. She was just going to have to play along until she got her sight back, then run like hell.

“Now, what shall we do to teach you a lesson?” Ayla asked. “You’re filthy you know. What have you been up to?” It was a rhetorical question hardly requiring an answer and the mud didn’t seem to dissuade Ayla as she slowly slid her hand up from Atrocious’s knee to her inner thigh.

Atrocious gulped. The outcome of this little interlude appeared to be all too clear as her body instinctively responded to Ayla’s touch. The pulsing arousal between her legs returned with a vengeance, reliance on her other senses heightened by her inability to see. She parted her legs slightly and moaned happily when Ayla slid her fingers all the way up and pressed her fingertips gently against Atrocious’ core for a moment.

Unfortunately the pleasant sensation was short lived. The fingers withdrew and the next thing Atrocious felt was a quick slap across her face. It was not hard enough to be truly aggressive, more like the swatting motion of a cat toying with its prey. Caught between desire and fear, Atrocious growled in response.

“Naughty,” Ayla noted in the darkness. “Very naughty.”

Before Atrocious could curse, the fingers returned between her legs. Ayla stroked through her britches, petting her pussy with a massaging motion that elicited soft moans. It was hard for Atrocious to stay angry when she felt so good, it was hard to be afraid when her hips were lifting off the chair and her mind was consumed with the desire to remove her pants.

Boldly, Atrocious reached down and shoved at the waistband of her britches, forcing them down over her behind. She was forced to clamp her thighs together a motion that ejected Ayla’s fingers, but it was the work of a moment to kick her muddied pants off and when she was done she spread her legs hopefully once more.

A delighted burst of laughter met the action. “A miscreant that takes her own pants down, fancy that.” Atrocious felt Ayla come closer, her breath soft on her ear. “I’d love to take you my dear, but first…” Atrocious cringed, expecting pain and recrimination. Maybe she was about to be beaten, or perhaps forced into hard labor. What Ayla actually said was worse. “You need a bath.”

Guided up from the chair still in a pronounced state of blindness, Atrocious was forced to listen to Ayla chide her over and over about all her sins.

“Such a filthy little wretch,” Ayla said, tugging Atrocious’ pants the rest of the way down her legs. “I can’t imagine how you got into such a state. You were up to no good, I’ll wager.

Atrocious kept her mouth shut, ignoring Ayla’s wagers. She was being undressed piece by piece, her defenses stripped away. Before long she was entirely naked before Ayla, who took casual advantage of the situation, running her hands over Atrocious’ body, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples. When Atrocious made a sound of complaint, Ayla responded with a quick slap to her bottom.

“Don’t whine, dear,” she said, squeezing Atrocious’s cheeks.

Atrocious blushed, she was being betrayed by her arousal, that’s what was going on. Ordinarily she would have never stood for being treated in such a casual, sexual way. Atrocious had long ago decided that she was the master of her own destiny and all attempts to dominate her since then had failed. But being blind and inordinately aroused was leaving her completely vulnerable to Ayla’s will in a way that made her feel prickly and uncomfortable. There was no way of even beginning to pretend that she was in control of the situation.

“You need a nice hot bath,” Ayla said. “But first I think you need a nice hot bottom.”

Atrocious had no idea what Ayla was talking about. There was the sound of a chair scraping back, then she felt herself being guided over Ayla’s skirts. Quite befuddled, she lay there naked as the day she was born and still streaked with mud, feeling the soft fabric of Ayla’s apron under her belly.

“So naughty,” Ayla said, patting her bottom. “You’ve not been spanked enough.”

“What?” Atrocious turned her heat towards Ayla even though the movement was useless to her. “No!”

But it was too late. Ayla had her where she wanted her and Atricious found herself pinned in place quite neatly indeed by Ayla’s strong arm. The spanking began gently with Ayla slapping Atrocious’s bare cheeks lightly, stinging her bottom but not really hurting her.

Atrocious squirmed in place over Ayla’s lap. She had expected a cruel beating, not this caressing warmth that tickled and stung and made her lower belly fizz with excitement and need. She found herself spreading her legs and Ayla immediately took advantage, tickling Atrocious’ pussy with the tips of her fingers in between slaps. Atrocious lifted her hips up to the sensation and before long, a searching finger was penetrating her, rubbing between her lips and slipping deep inside.

“This is a nice little cunt you have,” Ayla said. “It’s a pity you’re such a naughty little wench who needs a sore behind.”

With those words, Ayla began spanking a great deal harder. The sounds of her palm meeting Atrocious’ bare bottom echoed off the walls of the little cottage and Atrocious herself was forced to grab onto the leg of the chair and hang on for dear life as every hard slap threatened to send her sliding forward over Ayla’s lap. She was no longer enjoying herself in any way, it hurt, it really hurt and Ayla seemed to be enjoying that fact.

“You won’t peep in more windows, will you?” Alya lectured, vigorously laying her palm against Atrocious’ vulnerable bare bottom with punitive gusto.

Atrocious did not reply at first, she was far too busy yelping and squealing to form words. The only bright spot on the horizon was the fact that as the spanking went on, her sight slowly began to return. First the dark fog lifted a little, then, as her bottom pulsed with the thudding slaps, she began to make out objects in the room. She could see again! She could see!

The Ladies From B.R.A.T

So, I’ve been doing a few things lately aside from taking pictures of kitties – though that has been one of my main pastimes. One is I started a series on SKF called The Ladies from B.R.A.T.

It begins thuserly:

“It’s worse than we expected.” Lieutenant May Livingstone bit her fingernail right down to the quick, then wished she hadn’t.

Colonel Jane West, a robust woman with an auburn bouffant and a penchant for red lipstick, nodded in agreement. It was indeed worse than they had expected. It was also better than they had expected. That was because they had not expected anything at all. The discovery of something where nothing was supposed to be made things simultaneously better and / or worse, depending on how you looked at it. In space, perspective was everything.

Both women wore the simple navy blue uniforms of the Coalition, heavy blue coats buttoned diagonally from left to right across their chests. Colonel West wore the badge of the gold carnation, indicating her rank. Lieutenant Livingstone had two silver daisies pinned to the lengthy lapel under her chin, indicating her relative lack of rank.

Locked firmly in orbit, those aboard the coalition ship Archimedes had an excellent view of the surface of planet Sub-Beta-69. It was supposed to be an uninhabited, albeit potentially life bearing planet suitable for carbon based life forms. It was supposed to be the next port of call in a chain of galaxy wide rest-stops. Once the coalition work teams got down there, there’d be a few convenience stores, a couple of space toilets, some place to recharge the reactors, that sort of thing. Maybe a mall.

But the great stone pyramids clearly visible through the Archimedes’ long range cameras were currently putting paid to that idea. Sitting in the middle of a verdant grassy plane otherwise inhabited by ungulates, three large triangular monoliths rose into the clear sky.

“Patricia,” Colonel West said. “Give me an analysis of those rocks.”

“Calcium oxide. Silicone. Aluminum. Limestone. In other words, concrete. Not rocks.”

The ship’s computer spoke with a bland tone that still managed to be snippy. Patricia, short for PAT, short for Personal Android Thinking Machine, had been designed by the late, great Martha Stalwart. Somehow, no matter how many times PAT was calibrated, she retained a certain snotty quality. Some said PAT was haunted by the spirit of Martha Stalwart herself. Certainly PAT had more opinions on lace doilies than the average ship’s computer, and suggested using pine cones as centerpieces at every single meal time in defiance of the fact that the nearest pine tree was a good four human generations away.

“Concrete,” Colonel West said, tapping long, manicured fingernails against the console. “What does that tell you?”

“An advanced civilization,” May said. “But where are they?”

“Extinct, perhaps.”

“Not extinct,” Patricia cut in.

“Are you reading signs of humanoid life?”

“Negative.”

“What, then?”

“The lawns have been mown recently.”

PAT zoomed in on the strips of grass around the pyramids. Sure enough, there were the tell-tale signs of a well mowed lawn. Sixteen light years away from planet Earth, someone was landscaping.