Category Archives: F/F spanking

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.

Wow. Such Story!

Heyas!

Two things. One, Lesbia has been updating, which you may not be aware of if you haven’t gone to http://sapphosbrats.com/lesbia and subscribed to the updates there.

Two, I’ve finally got a handle on how this SKF forum story is going to work. If you’re interested in being involved or seeing what’s going to happen, go and check out the SKF Forum , post title ‘Le Story’.

Cuffs @ #30 In Lesbian Romance!

Woo! Thanks so much to everyone who picked up Cuffs so far. The book is currently sitting at #60 #30 #22 for Lesbian Romance on Amazon.com, which is awesome. It’s also at #18 #15 in the ‘Hot New Lesbian Releases’ section.

UPDATE: Cuffs is now at #4 in the UK for Lesbian Romance, and #7 overall in the general Lesbian category!

UPDATE UPDATE: I realize posts like this look braggy as fuck, but that’s not the point of them. The reason I get so excited when these books do well is because they’re my favorite to write and the better they do, the more I get to write of them. So thank you all, again. ‘Cause your awesomeness makes this awesomeness possible.

It has been a really long time since I wrote an entirely new lesbian romance – the last entirely new lesbian romance story I wrote was actually Trinity in Trouble back in December 2011. Of course the Rigel and Lesbia series have been written since then, but this is the first stand-alone piece in two years.

And I love it.

I love all my books and characters of course, I wouldn’t write them if I didn’t, but I really enjoyed these two characters and their dynamic, which is highly erotically charged but also very emotionally engaged. The romance between Jerry and Lara really flowed and their contrasting natures were fun to write.

Thank you again, everyone, for your support. You all rock!

Cuffs (Lesbians Dangereux) Lesbian Romance

It’s here! It’s here! Really, it is!

cuffs lesbian romance

Jerry Schwartz is an undercover, plain clothes, and just plain trouble police officer. Part of the vice squad, she’s always been happy slumming it in the underworld – until a routine traffic stop puts her at odds with a beautiful woman who turns out to be her new boss.

Lara Ashcroft is a British expat with a talent for firm, but fair leadership. Brought in to whip the Belfort vice unit into shape, she expects resistance from much of the squad – but she doesn’t expect to fall in love with its most difficult member on her very first day.

Accustomed to running rings around an indifferent chain of command, Jerry has some adjusting to do when it comes to Lara’s strict new regime. And Lara? Well Lara might just have met her match.

Now on Amazon! Click here to buy or get a sample!

Hot Fries | Lesbian Romance Coming Soon :D

I’m getting very close to releasing the new ebook! It’s very contemporary, very romantic and very erotic. That’s three verys. Here’s another excerpt from the soon to be finished and soon to be titled book…

Drop made, Jerry felt more like her old self. Nothing like spending a little time rubbing shoulders with the raw edge of society to make her feel alive. On the way back to Belmont, she stopped at a drive-through and picked up some food. Chocolate thickshake, cheeseburger and fries. Thinking of Lara, she picked up an extra burger and fries and a diet soda. That trim figure of Lara’s didn’t come from full sugar sodas.
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Something New, Coming Soon!

Did you know that it has been six months since I released any new original F/F ebooks? (Not counting the Lesbia series, of course.) I think it is high time to fix that. I plan on having a new F/F spanking romance out before Christmas, featuring a couple of lovers you may have met recently in The Biting Brat.

Here’s an excerpt in which our lovers first meet. Because there’s nothing like a good ‘How I Met My Lover’ story, is there?

Stay tuned for this book, which will be available sometime in the next week or so. I may or may not have been working on it since my imagination was fired by these two ladies. 😉

***

Jerry remembered the day they met like it was yesterday. It was a hot enough to fry a bunny’s balls day in the middle of June. She’d been speeding along an arterial street when flashing lights in the rear view mirror put a kink in an otherwise decent drive.

After cursing for a bit, then pulling to a stop, she lowered the window, left her hands at ten and two and waited for the officer to approach. Sure enough, a female officer with shapely hips and a nice rack soon sauntered out of the cop car and made her way to Jerry’s window.

The first words out of her mouth were classic. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”

Jerry smirked up at the mirrored glasses. “Why, did you forget?”
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Happy Birthday, DD!

It’s DD’s birthday! And for her birthday I wrote her a little something with her favorite character from the Rigel series and she was generous enough to allow me to share it with everybody. So here you go, a little word cake for DD’s birthday!

***

Class with Tank

It was a late Novemberish morning and Tank was at the gym as usual. She’d worked at the gym for as long as she could remember and she’d used it for even longer than that. Every single one of those many days showed in her strong, toned, broad shouldered physique. Though there was undeniable bulk to her frame, Tank was pretty in her own way. Short blonde hair was cropped close to her head, framing kind blue eyes and a gentle smile. She did not wear an abundance of makeup and her clothes were simple. It was an attempt to be unassuming. It didn’t work. Even without typical feminine trappings, she was eye catching.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The repetitive slamming of the front counter bell drew Tank out of the office. The early gym goers had already settled into their workouts. She hoped it wasn’t one of them banging at the bell as if the place were on fire. If it was, stern words would have to be had.

As it turned out, it was not one of the regulars bashing away at the bell. It was a stranger, a smiling young lady batting at the little nubbin atop the bell with all the enthusiasm of a kitten.
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All My Books On Sapphic Kink

loki renard lesbian spanking books

pippin of Sapphic Kink has been more than kind and created a beautiful page which showcases all my F/F stories in one place. It’s super pretty, and contains every single F/F ebook I’ve written, including some of the very early works. Click on the cover picture to be taken to the information page for that book, and on the cover again to be taken to the purchasing link. Thank you, pippin!

Check out my page on Sapphic Kink 🙂

RIGEL: The Completely Collected Collection

rigel collection

A lesbian love story spanning two decades,’Rigel’ follows the fortunes of four unique women as they live, love, and drive one another mad with adventures in monogamy, attempts at polygamy and the pursuit of real romance (with a touch of much needed discipline on the side.)

If you’ve already read all the Rigel-ing books, this won’t be of much super interest to you, but if you haven’t, then this is a good opportunity to pick ’em up. The Rigel series is something of a fan favorite, featuring some wonderfully toppy tops, but a good dose of angst and romantic mistakery as well.

If you have read the series already and want to drop over to Amazon and say how awesome it all is, that would be super lovely too. Reviews make Ther Loki happy 😀

Get thee to the Amazon and sate thy spanky impulses!

Did Someone Say Magical Spanking Witch?

This source of magical spankings comes not from me, but from Devlin O’Neill, whose latest spanking fairy tale novella has just dropped, complete with a formidable female top in the form of Mother Hibbard. This book does contain both F/F and M/F spankings, but I had to mention it on account of how much I enjoyed the Sourceress (not a typo) Mother Hibbard.

sourcerers apprentice spanking book

Review:

The Sourcerer’s Apprentice represents another step into the world of Neverwasnia, a fantasy realm very much like our own, save for being inhabited by witches and pixies and werewolves and other mythical creatures that make themselves altogether a little too at home in what seems to be an otherwise mundane world.

This tale of magic and spanking from Devlin O’Neill not only distinguishes itself by merit of his fantastic modern fairy tale writing style and brilliant world building, but by containing one of the most interesting top figures in all spankydom in the form of Mother Hibbard – a sourceress to be reckoned with.

But that’s not all! There’s also a temperamental artist with a talent for capturing a girl’s bottom along with her soul, a dastardly doctor with a plan for bringing down Mother Hibbard and all her apprentices and Tabitha, dear, sweet, innocent apprentice Tabitha. What ever shall become of her and her little squirrel familiar?

Hot bottoms, warmed hearts and surprises aplenty lie in store for all those who dare peek inside to find out just what Mother Hibbard has in her cipboard, er, cupboard.

There’s no witches without itches, but this book scratches all of them.

And, a review from our very own DisneyDyke!

Mother is truly truly a most charismatic toppy yet laid-back lady and her girls are surely very loyal apprentices and friends. I also liked the secondary characters, such as the bratty and vain yet endearing model, the temperamental artist and even the detective and his doggie (really, I quite liked the role animals played in this tale). I can’t say I loved the baddie of this novella of course, but I surely loved to hate him and his gang and I loved that they got exactly what they deserved.

Read a sample chapter and get the book here!

Shiny New Kindle Edition of MotoBrat

ther renard

EDIT 8/11: Cheers and thanks to everyone who picked up a copy of MotoBrat, we’ve broken into the Top 100 Lesbian Fiction eBooks on Amazon!

Welcome to this shiny new covered kindle edition of MotoBrat, a first person tale of a rebellious biker brat and the dominant woman she manages to attract through a sustained campaign of very misguided brattery. The new edition is pretty much the same as the old edition with minor edits, so if you have the old edition, you’re still good. If you don’t have it, you might find that you want it.

This was written back in 2010, which is about a decade ago in writer years. As I was re-editing it, I found myself surprised by how emotionally raw this story is in parts, and how warm it is in others. It’s odd, of course, but all my stories inevitably are. If you’re hanging about these parts, I assume you can put up with a fair amount of oddity.

Also, as a side note, I was thinking I might take a break from Lesbia and write some all new, all original F/F stories. Lesbia wouldn’t go anywhere, it would still be there, all 120k-ish words of it, and I’d no doubt return to it at a later date. It just seems to me that there hasn’t been a whole lot of innovation happening around here lately. And we need innovation. It stops things from getting that musty smell.

Excerpt:

I love the sound of boots on linoleum. In my time as the checkout girl at Barbara’s Duck n’ Dive, I’d heard plenty of them. As was my wont when I heard a particularly alluring pair, I turned from my task, which happened on this occasion to be restocking the cigarette cartons and looked first at the boots, then at the woman who wore them.

The boots were well tended thick matte leather with a short heel – boots you could ride all day and night in. As my eyes ran up the length of their owner, I saw that she was also well tended in leathers over pressed dark jeans. Under her leather riding jacket she wore a checkered shirt that hung open just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. She was tall for a woman, with flaxen blonde hair that hung shaggily about her shoulders and a thousand mile stare that went right through me to the neatly lined up packets of cancer sticks behind.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” I smiled brightly, pushing my short dark hair out of my eyes.

“Pack of 20’s,” she stated in a slow drawl native to the southern states, not taking her eyes off the cigarettes for a moment as she tossed a twenty dollar note down on the counter.

I was mildly offended. Here I was, smiling obsequiously and waiting to serve her every whim, and she wasn’t even looking at me. I wasn’t a person to her. I was part of the scenery, a fleshy automaton and nothing more. I hated customers like that, people who seemed to think that I existed only to serve them, and that the slightest polite courtesy was too good for a mere minion like me.

Maybe it was because she was hopelessly addicted to the ‘baccy. Maybe she was preoccupied with something else. Maybe it was because she was probably an older professional woman with just enough time left to ride on the weekends and I was little more than a college drop out keeping a roof over her head and gas in her tank by slinging jerky and tobacco.

Whatever the reason, I decided that I was going to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget quickly.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, ma’am.”

Bam. The gaze was on me now. Seeing me for the first time. Her visage twisted in irritation. Yeah lady, that’s right. I exist. How you doin’?

“What do you mean?”

I kept my expression composed as I answered her, letting no sign of the deep mischief I was perpetrating show through in my face. “You’re supposed to be quitting, ain’t ya?” I wasn’t from the South, but I put a hefty dose of the accent in my reply.

Her expression of surprise was priceless. Her lips parted, but no words came out. I knew she was wondering how I could possibly know such a thing.

“How…”

“You promised you’d quit.” I smiled seraphically as her confusion grew more intense. After a moment or two more of open mouthed staring, she grew resolute.

“Just give me the cigarettes, kid.”

If I had been temped to give her the cigarettes, her casual use of the diminutive ruined all chance of that.

“Not possible, I’m afraid, ma’am.” A madness had gripped me. I’d played games like these before, but I’d never gone so far as to actually deny a customer what they wanted. Barbara certainly wouldn’t be pleased if she caught me at this game.

Now the woman’s eyes were narrowed on me. She looked like the sort of lady who usually got what she wanted, whether it was a girl for the night, or a pack of cigarettes to take on a ride. Being denied what she wanted wouldn’t just displease her. It would confuse her.

After taking my measure for a few moments longer, she surprised me by relaxing and actually gracing me with a smile of genuine humor that made the fine lines at the corner of her eyes crinkle with warmth. She placed both her palms on the counter and leaned in towards me. “Alright kid, you got me. Good trick. Now hand ’em over.”

Biker chicks usually smelled like grease and sour sweat. This woman smelled of leather conditioner and vanilla, a surprisingly heady mix. I was tempted to do what she asked, really I was. But I was committed to a course of action now, and to sell her cigarettes would be to undermine my entire point.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t know what you mean by trick.”

“You want to keep playing this little head game, huh?” Her expression had darkened again, but not with the same blank annoyance as before. Now she looked very much like she’d enjoy the game as much as I did if we kept on playing.

Get MotoBrat on Amazon!