From Kelly's Desk
MARCH EDITION
Hello again!
I’ve got a sexy little short spanky story for you to read in this newsletter and it’s exclusive to you right here, it’s not available anywhere else! Make sure you’re not reading this at work because it’s super spanky and I can almost guarantee it’s going to get you all hot and bothered :)
I love March because here in New Zealand it’s the start of Autumn which is my favourite season. I love the gorgeous colours as the leaves turn, the chilly mornings and beautiful sunshine-y days that are warm without being too hot, and the hint of snow on the mountain tops visible in the distance from the small town where I live.
Remember in last month’s newsletter I said Daddy Takes Over Christmas - the bonus Christmas story in the New Zealand Daddies series - would be going into KU? It’s there now! I had it available on all the retailers for ages, but because the other books in the series are all in KU, it makes sense for this one to be there too. It’s also available in paperback, if that’s how you prefer to read :)
Have you read my latest release In Daddy’s Custody yet? Like most of my books, this one is set (at least partly) in New Zealand. Auckland, specifically, with a bit in Dunedin. As many of you will know from bits I’ve shared previously with earlier books, I grew up in the countryside not far from Auckland, and when I left home, I worked and lived in Auckland City. When you’re young and flatting with friends, there’s no better place to be than the heart of the city with the shops and beaches right there. In the book, Jaxon suggests they go rollerblading along the waterfront, which is something I used to do almost daily. The road that meanders along the Auckland harbour has a fantastic wide footpath for cycling, walking, running, and rollerblading (or at least it did, 23 years ago - I presume it’s still much the same) and the view out to Rangitoto Island is pretty cool. Ships come into the port constantly too, so there’s always something to look at. Also in the book, Jaxon briefly mentions his time in the army, and the training base in Waiouru - in the Central North Island of New Zealand, under the shadow of the mountains. This is a nod to my father, who spent time in the army there as a young man and reckons it’s the coldest place he’s ever been. Jaxon’s name - Herewini - is also a nod to the Maori part of my extended family (I hope they don’t mind me borrowing their name). And finally - Jade’s claustrophobia in the aeroplane toilet is based on me - I’m intensely claustrophobic and do my very best to avoid the aeroplane loos at all costs. Small spaces freak me out.
What are reviewers saying?
Jade and Jaxon’s story is an insta love story with so much explosive heat and emotion.
Lots of spanking and other stuff to make this one of Ms. Dawson’s steamiest stories.
If you want to see for yourself, links are below! If you’ve already read it, I would love it so much if you would please leave a review - it doesn’t need to be detailed, a simple sentence is fine. If you have reviewed, thank you from the bottom of my heart!
I just beta-read this awesome book by Amelia Smarts - a sweet, spanky historical western - and I loved it! Want to love it too? Pre-order it RIGHT HERE!
And what’s on my kindle? This brand new release from another one of my favourite authors, Maggie Carpenter! Grab your copy here!
Plus - be in quick for this one - here’s a whole bunch of free spicy romance ebooks to fill your e-reader! Click here for free books
And now for what you’ve been waiting for: the exclusive short story! I suck at titles, so this story doesn’t have one. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Every morning, at precisely 8am, I’m required to bend over our bed with my bottom bared, ready for my daily maintenance spanking – a dozen swats with a wooden ruler. It doesn’t matter what I might be doing at the time – nothing is more important than my daily attitude check. I am not allowed to forget, and I’m not allowed to be late. Not even by a minute. Tardiness is punished, every single time. Usually with a stroke of the dreaded cane for every 30 seconds I’m late, but it can also vary, depending on how late I am.
This morning, I forgot to put on my watch. I guessed it to be around 7.45am and once I’d made my coffee, I was going to go into the bedroom, check the time, put on my watch, and prepare for my spanking if it was close to 8. So I filled the kettle up with water, flicked it on, spooned instant coffee into my favourite mug, added sugar. I was halfway to the fridge to get the milk when Daddy came into the kitchen and, without warning, tugged my yoga pants and knickers down to mid-thigh, baring me right there.
“What are you doing?” I shriek, aghast.
“What is the time?” he growls.
“I don’t know, I don’t have my watch on.”
He puts his wrist in front of my face, the digital numbers clearly showing I’m late. Very late. I gulp.
“What is the time?” he growls again.
“8.09 and 37 seconds, sir.”
I’ve never been more than 4 minutes late before, and I get the impression that by the time Daddy has finished with me this morning, I’ll never want to be late again.
“Right. Bend over.”
“Here?” Our kitchen faces the street. The venetian blinds are down, but open. We have a hedge and our house is extremely private, but I’m still paranoid that someone will see.
“Yes here. Right here.”
“But the window!”
He scoffs. “Nobody can see in the window. Not unless they come right up to the house. Even then they won’t be able to see much. They might be able to guess that there is a naughty young lady inside getting her bare bottom blistered, but they won’t know for sure.”
“But –“
“But nothing. You know the rules. You know that maintenance happens at 8am on the dot.”
“Can’t we do this in the bedroom?”
“No. Now bend over. Right where you are. Right here in the middle of the kitchen. Bend over, push your ass out, and keep it out. Don’t you move.”
I knew he wouldn’t let me out of it, but I had to try. Daddy is very strict and he never, ever, backs down from a punishment he thinks I deserve. I mean he probably would, if I strongly opposed it, but I never have done, mainly because I trust him to be fair. Although I have a safe word, I’ve never needed to use it. I like being spanked as much as he likes spanking me.
“Why? What are you doing?”
He goes to the drawer, rummages through. Pulls out a black plastic spoon. A big one that I usually use for serving food. Lasagne, especially.
I am still standing there, with my ass bare, not bent over, watching him.
“I told you to bend over,” he growls. “Do it now. Hands on the bench, bend over, push your ass out.”
Slowly, I obey him. I place my hands on the cold benchtop. I bend over slightly, step my feet apart and arch my back, pushing my butt out, just like he asked.
He wastes no time in smacking me, hard and fast. 20 times in less than 10 seconds. I dance and squirm and sink inwards.
“I told you to push your ass out,” he growls.
“I’m trying!”
“Not hard enough.”
He goes to the cupboard and gets a small jug which he fills with water at the tap. I crane my neck to watch.
“What are you doing?” I ask. But I needn’t have bothered. He’s back behind me now, jug of water in hand, and what he’s doing is obvious.
“Ass out,” he orders me. “I’m wetting your ass. I want it to sting more.”
“It does sting!” I assure him.
“Obviously not enough, seeing as you keep disobeying.”
“I am not disobeying!” I argue, which is probably not wise considering I’m bent over in my kitchen with my sore, naked ass on display.
“You aren’t holding still with your ass out,” Daddy snaps.
“I’m trying!” I protest. Doesn’t he have any idea how hard it is to hold still when your ass is getting smacked hard?
“Try harder.
Daddy holds the jug right at the top of the cleft of my bottom, tipping the water in a line across my bottom, letting it dribble down over my buttocks, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin and making me shiver.
“Ooooooh,” I whimper as the icy liquid trickles over my bottom and down my thighs. “That’s cold!”
“Ask me to spank you long and hard,” he instructs. “And stick your bottom out properly. Hold still.”
My knuckles are white as I grip the edge of the kitchen counter, stepping my feet as far apart as I can with my pants hobbling me, and I push my bottom out as far as it will go, lifting it up at the same time so my pussy is on full display for him.
“Please spank my wet bare bottom long and hard, Daddy,” I ask, my voice a low, sultry tone.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. Pressing one hand against the small of my back to help me stay in position, he pops my stinging, wet, bare ass over and over again with the black plastic spoon that I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to serve lasagne with again.
He’s right – the spoon stings a lot more on wet skin. I yelp in pain with each swat, and sink inwards, trying to avoid the awful burn. Instead of scolding me, Daddy transfers the hand that’s resting on my back, to reach underneath me and cups his hand against my pussy. His thumb presses on my clit and the pressure from his palm forces my pelvis outwards, my bottom upthrust for the spoon once more.
It’s so hot, having his hand right there. Every time the spoon hits my ass, my clit grinds against his thumb, nearly sending me into orbit with each smack. The sting, of course, is intense, but the impending orgasm takes my mind right away from the throbbing and when the spanking increases in both speed and force, his thumb rubs more, and my body explodes, flying apart into tiny little bits, as I ride the wave of ecstasy.
The spanking ends, and the now-retired lasagne spoon clatters into the sink.
“Now you can march that burning red bottom into the bedroom, little girl. You’ve got 19 strokes of the cane, and a maintenance spanking coming. Don’t pull up your pants, leave them as they are.”
I suck in a few deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart, still the trembling in my spine. Slowly, I float back down to earth.
“Yes Daddy,” I murmur, and I hasten to obey.
Did you enjoy my story? I’d love your feedback! And you never know - one day that story may end up as a scene in a novel! Maybe. Or maybe not.
Thanks for reading!