This is an excerpt from one of the very first F/F series I wrote over six years ago, so please forgive any early oddities of formatting, grammar or general putting together of words. The book was called ‘Rogue the Serpent’ and was a fantasy story which told the tale of a young woman named Rogue who possesses the power to become a serpent and is married off by her father to a fine lord. Rogue is not interested in the lord, and attempts to flee his custody, but soon finds herself not only captured but under the disciplinary care of a lady named Mari. This excerpt begins after her initial capture…

“I will not cage you Rogue, you are too precious for that.”

“Precious? How so?” I was confused.

“You are a lady of the Serpent. One in a million. Rogue, you are a rare creature and I will have you for my own, but I will not be unkind, nor cage you away unless you force me to do so.”

In spite of myself, I felt a little pleased at his words. Drexler was the first man to ever appreciate my talents rather than fear them.

I looked up under my eyelashes at him. “And what the soldiers were saying, of your treatment of women? Will you attempt such foolishness with me?”

He laughed again. He seemed amused by me. “I will treat you as you deserve to be treated,” he said. His hand descended upon my lower back and he ushered me into the road, where he pursed his lips and emitted a piercing whistle. In a moment or two, the sound of horse hooves could be heard as a black carriage slid up out of the night’s shadows.

“Now, my lady, will you come to your new home, or would you rather run about in the wilderness?” He said the words as if I had a choice, but I knew that I truly had no choice. He had come for me, he had never left my side. I climbed into the carriage without a word and curled up in a corner, watching him silently.
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I’ve been re-reading the first Lesbia book lately, Over Witch’s Knee. It’s been quite a while since it was published, which means reading it again is a bit like reading it for the first time in some respects. I’d forgotten just how non-fantasy so much of the dialog is for a fantasy book, and just how naughty the brats really were! I came across this scene between heroine Atrocious and the robber Rogette and of course, Ayla the Witch and Kira the warrior. I think you’ll enjoy becoming re-acquainted with them too, or this will be a pleasure if its your first time meeting these ladies 🙂

*****

“I’ve been laid a lot of times,” Atrocious scowled. “I have!” She exclaimed a second time when she realized that everyone was looking at her with expressions of amusement and pity. “I have… I have fucked a lot of ladies.”

“Oh stop it,” Ayla said. “You must stop being so petulant, you really must. Everybody is trying to help you, Atrocious.”

“Then leave,” Atrocious said, doing her best to hide welling tears of frustration and embarrassment. “If I’m so horrible, you can all just leave. I never asked you to help me.”

Ayla took a deep breath and looked skyward for patience. “It’s not about whether you asked or not, it’s about being grateful for the sacrifices people made for you. It’s about acting like something other than a spoiled brat.”

“I am grateful!” Atrocious protested.

“Are you? Have you even thanked Kira? Or have you been too busy alternately cowering away from her then abusing her?”

There was no defense to the charges Ayla was laying, so Atrocious remained silent under the continuing onslaught.

“Mark my words,” Ayla said, her eyes so narrow they were merely slits in her beautiful face. “If she had not found you in my care, you would no longer be in one piece. You don’t deserve to be.”

Atrocious responded with defensive nonsense. “What do you want? You want me to hack my arm off?”

“What I want,” Ayla said in a hiss. “Is for you to act like a useful member of this group and not like a self centered little monster.”
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As you seemed to enjoy Madame Angeline so very much, I thought I might extend her disciplinary adventures a little more…

Usually a good disciplinary session with a deserving lady would sate Madame Angeline’s appetites for a long while. Weeks, perhaps even months. However a mere three days after her visit to Penitent’s Lane, Philippa would not leave her thoughts.

Angeline decided to go shopping to take her mind off her fascination. She enjoyed dressing fashionably and a new dress was a good as a new home, she sometimes thought. Slipping into flattering fabric could change her mood immediately. So thinking, Angeline drove to her favorite boutique where she was welcomed warmly by the shop’s assistants, given a glass of champagne and liberally festooned with fine gowns.

Many times she twirled before the mirror, seeing herself in one light and then another while the assistants heaped praise upon her.

“How beautiful your figure is, Madame Angeline.”

“How long your legs are, Madame Angeline.”

“Your eyes are so beautiful in that color, Madame Angeline.”
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It’s been a long time since my last post here, so I’ve written a rather long short lesbian spanking story off the cuff this evening for you to enjoy, dear readers. It is the tale of a dominant lady named Angeline who visits a London establishment providing submissive ladies to those who wish to discipline them, and a little brat named Philippa who goads the fine lady into more than just a spanking… I wrote this in an hour or so, it starts somewhat in the middle, and it won’t win any literary prizes, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 😉

“Welcome to Penitent’s Lane,” Madame Madame, lady of the house said, her smile warm with greeting as she ushered the fine lady into her establishment. “How may I help you, Madame Angeline?”

“I’m looking for the biggest brat you have,” Angeline said without bothering to pause for niceties. “I’m in the mood to give a deserving bottom a good, long, hard spanking, and I need a real brat for that purpose.”

“Of course, Madame Angeline,” the lady of the house simpered as she ushered her illustrious guest into the elegant foyer. “We have gathered all available girls for you.”

Madame Angeline looked down the line of ladies presented in a row at the bottom of a grand staircase. There were a great many women ranging in age from their late teens to their late fifties. Some wore rings in their noses, some wore sneers on their lips, others seemed quite polite and well composed, but none caught her attention. It was most frustrating, for her palm was veritably itching with the need to spank a deserving female bottom red.

“What sort of punishment were you thinking of giving?” The lady of the house interjected by way of trying to make the process a little easier.

“An over the knee hand spanking,” Angeline replied. She was a handsome woman with graying streaks in her hair and the air of an old fashioned school marm caught in a modern age. Her hair was tied back in an elegant chignon, dark brows tapering over brilliant steel eyes. Her face was full of character, a pronounced chin and jutting nose which might have made her less appealing to those who look for softness in a lady, but Angeline had a different kind of beauty, the kind which made those attuned to such things quiver at the knees. Continue reading →

“When shall we speak?”

“Now, I think,” Ayla said, her eyes locked on Kira’s. “This conversation is a very long time overdue.”

Leaving Hope to guard Nive, and Mary to converse with a daffodil, Ayla and Kira disembarked from their carriage and made their way into the main fortress.

The witch’s stronghold was a place of wonders and riches, but Kira’s eyes were not interested in any of the treasures abundantly displayed. Instead they were drawn to the sway of Ayla’s hips, the roundness of her rear displayed charmingly in the soft silk which flowed from shoulders to the floor.

Click here to read this Lesbia update 🙂

Nive’s hips began to thrust, need for pleasure taking precedence over her desire for virginity. Hope smiled triumphantly, enjoying the princess’ wanton reactions. It had been quite some time since Hope had lain with a woman. Kira’s endless demands on her time and rigorous training schedule meant that every moment she wasn’t collapsing into bed exhausted she was occupied in some non erogenous activity.

It was perhaps unprofessional to be running her tongue over the rise of Nive’s breast, or to be teasing the princess’ flowering lips with the very tip of her finger, but Hope did not care. Nive was breathtakingly beautiful, and the more aroused she became the more beautiful she was, pale cheeks flushing with excitement, eyes sparkling.

“You are a rogue,” Nive gasped as Hope pressed light nipping kisses to the side of her neck. “You are taking advantage of me.”

Click here to catch up on Lesbia!

Giggling from inside the carriage bought a temporary halt to Ayla and Kira’s serious conversation.

“Is Hope equal to the task of guarding the princess?” Ayla mused aloud.

“As long as the carriage keeps moving at a decent speed, yes,” Kira replied. “I doubt the blonde will risk the jump.”

A fresh burst of laughter from the interior made Kira’s stern demeanor crack slightly. “I barely remember what it was like to be that young, that happy. One’s wounded, one’s been kidnapped and yet neither of them care. The young feel no sorrow.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Ayla said. “Besides, you are not as old as you think you are. You’re still a sapling my by reckoning.”

“Well nobody is as old as you,” Kira said, her lips twisting into a broader, teasing smile. Her dark eyes danced with amusement. “I’m not sure how you get around without a cane.”

“I use my cane for things besides walking,” Ayla said, her tone suggestive of trouble for the warrior if her teasing were to continue.

More!

A fun lesbian erotic short I felt like sharing… enjoy 😉

“No.”

“Yes.” Her voice is a purr, her eyes alight with intensity which overwhelms your senses and leaves you awestruck. She is smiling, and the word makes her teeth flash white just inches from your face. She is beautiful, she is powerful, and she is carrying a thick leather covered paddle with your name on it. Literally.

You could have avoided this moment. You could have made better choices. You could have cancelled this appointment. But you stepped into her domain with all the cocky arrogance of a submissive who is yet to submit.

She was waiting for you. Her curves described in leather, her dark hair loose about her shoulders, her makeup severe, crimson lips against alabaster skin. The previous meetings were nothing compared to this. Practically office work. A list of your likes, your dislikes, what you wanted to work on. She had her hair up then, thick glasses giving her an almost librarian aesthetic. You wondered once or twice if she would be capable of carrying out anything on that list.

“No.” You refuse again. It means nothing. No has lost its power. Your safeword is tucked away in your mind where you have no intention of accessing it.

Her hand twists in your hair, drawing you so close her lips almost brush yours.

“Yes,” she breathes as she uses her grip to press you slowly down, across the purpose built spanking bench, a piece of equipment exquisitely designed for a bottom such as yours to be displayed. It is built slightly on an incline, a padded bench covered in smooth vinyl, thicker at the end where your hips rise, buttocks bare and legs parting around the ‘V’ shaped base which makes closing them a practical impossibility.

You are on display now, your nudity a liability as she traces her fingernails lightly up the back of your left thigh, soft tingles zipping through your skin as they reach the curve of your buttock. She lays a light slap there and you feel the kiss of skin on skin.

The session is about to begin…