Welcome To Michelle's Blog

If you are offended by spanking and explicit sexual situations, please go elsewhere. 18 and over, only please. If you're a fan of romantic spanking fiction, then this is the blog for you. I mainly write m/f spanking fiction involving loving couples. My men are all Alpha, my women are smart, sassy and very bad girls who learn that their errant ways can lead to some painful consequences. My work appears on the website Discipline and Desire. I also write fun erotica involving threesomes (also with lots of spanking!) and other spanky sexual adventures. If you want to buy my books, check out my website, www.michellecarlyle.com or go to disciplineanddesire.com.

Friday, April 29, 2011

Fast Ticket To A Spanking, Part One

Hey Spankos!!!

Michelle is…oh, hell, I’m always tired. But I’m REALLY tired now. Put all the finishing touches on my latest vanilla novel and it should be available for sale tomorrow. Although, everything takes longer than it’s supposed to. And I’m bloody tired. I had to go through a 500 page document…how many freakin’ times? My eyes are crossed. And I need sex. Hubby has been sick and we’ve both been working on this giant document/book of mine. Instead of fucking. HUGE oversight.

I thought about doing some cross-marketing and posting the title and cover of my vanilla novel here, but I’m still hinky about outing myself. As we all know, many people outside the spanking community don’t really look too fondly on us spankos. Thankfully, my romance writer friends don’t care, most of them write stuff that would make your hair stand on end. Spanking is almost vanilla to those people. But I’m still too chicken. Maybe later. Because I think you’d like my new book. Well, maybe. No spanking in it, some sex. But my normal crazy sense of humor and penchant for action are definitely in the book. Plus there are characters in my novel you have seen before if you subscribe to Discipline and Desire. And you will see here shortly. Because many of my stories come from my vanilla work. I create an alternate universe and explore the characters in new and different spanky ways. Although, the names have been changed in the spanking fiction to protect the guilty. Anyhoo, hopefully later, I’ll be more brave. But not now.

So, spanky friends, I have a new story for you. A Discipline and Desire fan favorite. Got lots of fan letters about this one. So here you are, A Fast Ticket To A Spanking, soon to be found in my upcoming release, Dangerous Behavior.

Hugs and love to you all!


Teresa walked out from her office building and up to her car parked directly out front. It really paid to come early to work. She found if she arrived before seven in the morning, she always got a good spot. Arriving early also meant she could leave early. She was the first one in the office and the first to leave and she never had to deal with the traffic. She loved flex-time!

She went to open her door when she noticed a piece of paper underneath her windshield wiper. Not another ticket! That was the only problem with parking out front, she nearly always forgot to feed the meter properly. She could park for free in the parking garage, but it was too far to walk considering her footwear of choice: anything cute with five-inch heels. They made her legs look great, but walking long distances was no fun. So she parked as closely as she could to her office, which was the street in front of the building.

But darn it, this was her fifth ticket this month. And it was only the tenth of the month. Normally, she tossed them in the garbage, but recently a friend of hers had suggested a different route. Just put the ticket on someone else’s windshield. That way you had the chance that the owner of the other car would pay it without really examining it closely. Heh-heh-heh.

With an evil grin on her face, Teresa removed the ticket, walked to the car behind her and slipped it underneath the windshield wiper. She tried to look purposeful so no one would notice. The car was an expensive car, she figured the owner could afford it.

She moved away from the car quickly and got into her own. Feeling very smug, she drove away and headed home.

Everyday that week, Teresa somehow forgot to put enough change in the meter, and everyday she came out to her car to find a ticket on the windshield. And everyday she withdrew the ticket and put it on the car behind her. On Friday, she finally noticed that she was putting the ticket on the same car. A late model black Porsche. Once she made the discovery, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Normally, she was a pretty moral person, but somehow the situation struck her funny. Some rich person certainly was having a string of bad luck.

As Teresa drove away, she thought about this rich person with the Porsche she had inadvertently targeted. It was obviously some corporate executive with a huge expense account and money to burn. Must be nice. Teresa barely made enough money to keep herself in nice shoes. She had a teeny apartment, a ten-year-old Toyota and hardly any savings. She liked her job at the venture capital business, but she hated working for rich people. She saw the payroll once when she’d delivered some papers to the accounting department and was chagrined to find out her bosses made thirty times more than she did. Thirty times! When she barely made more than the interns. She had a BA degree, but it was in sociology, and hadn’t really helped with her salary. She did client profiles and research. One of the more lowly jobs of the office. After she’d seen those spreadsheets, she almost quit, but Fillmore and paid more than the university job she’d had before.

She had loved her job at the university. Adored the people she worked with, loved being on campus around so many brilliant minds. Problem was, it was super expensive living in San Francisco. After her divorce, she found she wasn’t making ends meet and finally had to quit and find a higher paying job. She’d found her current position in the Financial District. It paid half again as much as she made at San Francisco State. But even with her pay raise, she was barely making it. Until she could figure out something else, she was stuck.

Which was why she didn’t feel bad about the parking ticket thing. That Porsche owner could afford those dumb tickets, but she sure as hell couldn’t. Serves the jerk right for making so much. Some fancy guy working in a fancy office making millions while she struggled to pay her rent. Life was not fair.

And she had to admit, it was fun getting away with something like that. Especially considering she was bothering some rich idiot. Too funny!

Chas Wilson couldn’t believe it. Another parking ticket! He was late as usual, so he grabbed the thing off his windshield and threw it into his briefcase. This was ridiculous, he was sure he’d put enough money in the meter. But he had no time to worry about it, he had a tennis date and couldn’t be late or he and his partner would lose their court time. He’d already been late the last time due to a client who would not shut up, this time he’d been on the phone with a banking officer trying to straighten out a financing snafu, upon which rode a huge, billion dollar deal. He glanced at his watch, he might just make it.

He drove as fast as he could, came around a corner and everything stopped. It was a traffic accident. He tried to back up, but it was too late, he was stuck. Damn it! After ten minutes of not moving, he finally had to give up. He called Harold and told him the bad news. Harold harangued him in a good-natured way and then told him he was lucky, another guy was looking for a quick game, so at least Harold would be able to play.

Chas hung up and swore to himself and punched the steering wheel. He’d really needed that game. This week had been so hectic, so many deals were teetering on the edge, he’d barely slept. He was so pent, so tired and feeling so crazy, only a good work out would settle him. He decided after he got out of traffic, he’d go to the club and work out in the weight room and hope there was an opening on the court. Tennis was the main way he blew off steam. Well, that and sex, but since Belinda left him six months before, he hadn’t been able to connect with anyone interesting. Certainly word had got out and he was being pursued actively by a hoard of single females on his floor, but he didn’t want any of them. While horny, he’d rather be alone than with someone he didn’t care for. And none of the women in his office or on the floor interested him. They were either too needy, too over-dressed, too self-centered or not fashionable enough.

He had to admit it, he liked a woman who dressed well. But one who didn’t need to call an inordinate attention to herself.

He’d loved Belinda. He’d even asked her to marry him. But she’d been far more interested in making money than making him happy. After he’d proposed, she told him that there was no way she’d ever live with him or cook for him or do anything for him. If he agreed to live in adjoining apartments, she’d consider his proposal. Well, that ended that. He’d been so disappointed. Perhaps that’s why he hadn’t dated since.

Chas looked around the intersection at all the stuck people who’d gotten out of their cars. Most were furious, some were resigned, many were curious about why they were stuck. But it didn’t look like any of them were going home anytime soon.

Sighing, Chas opened his briefcase and took out the ticket. Damn this. He’d paid the other four this week, he might as well make out a check while he was sitting there. He wrote out the amount and addressed the check to the proper city bureau. He was tearing the receipt from the ticket to put into the envelope when a number on the ticket caught his attention. It was where his license plate number was supposed to be written. But it wasn’t his license number. It was someone else’s.

No. He couldn’t have been so stupid as to pay someone else’s parking ticket. He couldn’t have. He reread the ticket. He couldn’t believe it. The ticket WAS someone else’s. It was for a ten-year-old Toyota with vanity plates that read “IM TRBLE”. Trouble indeed, this person was a total jerk. Oh, if he got his hands on the person. Damn it! All those tickets! He’d been so distracted, he hadn’t even checked the meter! It was probably still green and he hadn’t noticed. Nor had he read the ticket, he’d just paid it! What an idiot! Damn this!

©2011, Michelle Carlyle

Friday, April 22, 2011

Revenge, Inc. Part Fifteen and Conclusion

Spanky Friends!!!

I hope you had a spiffy and fantastic week! Oh. Wait. It was (insert music sting here) Tax Week. Stupid IRS. Thankfully, we got done in Feb and received our refund. Which is already spent. On the new bed and other various and sundry thingys.

I had a great week. Going through a personal transformation (psychologically, not physically) and I’m feeling much better about myself. Better than I have in years. Yay! I think I’m finally unfucking my head! Yay! I’ve come so far, I can’t believe it. I highly recommend therapy to anyone who can’t move forward in their lives or who are suffering from childhood trauma. Or any kind of trauma. But first you have to find the right therapist. The first two people I saw were MORONS. Thankfully, I hooked up with an amazing human being who has been the guiding light through this gnarly process. And thankfully, she is snarky and funny and irreverent. And extremely kind and insightful. Yay for my therapist!

And I honestly thought that therapy would take away my love of spanking and being spanked. Instead, it’s unclouded my head so I enjoy spanking MORE. WHOO-HOO! Spank me, baby!

Speaking of which (or spanking of which) Hubby is working at home today. Whoo-hoo! Field research!!! “Honey, I need some help writing this scene. What I want you to do is chase me all over the house, wrestle me across your lap, pull my pants off and whack me good! Then fuck me. Wait. I need to take notes.” HEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Oh, Happy Easter to those who celebrate. I went to See’s Candies yesterday and Hubby is very happy with the chocolate eggs I bought for him. He’s very grateful. I think I’ll go find out just how grateful he is. Muaahahahahaha!!!!

Today I’m giving you a double-dose of Michelle and posting the last part and conclusion of Revenge, Inc. Next week, a new story!!!!

Have a great one!


The next day around noon, Peter dropped Fay off at the airport. Thank God for airport screening and the fact he couldn’t follow her to the gate. She gave him a kiss and a wave and disappeared into the airport. After heading straight to the taxi stand, she was home fifteen minutes later. Still concerned he might be following her, she kept the front of her house dark. Thankfully, most of the tools for her jobs were in the garage.

At eleven that night, she and Mitzi waited in their darkened van for Michael Bascomb to emerge from his girlfriend’s house.

“This should be good,” Mitzi whispered, her high voice tinged with excitement. “You took off all the lug nuts, right?”

“Oh, yeah. His Porsche is going to be toast. This should be funny.”

Right then, Michael came out of the house, a spring in his step. A tall, dark-haired guy, he wasn’t bad looking. He started whistling.

Fay chuckled. “She must be good.”

“So along with his Porsche, what else did you do to him?” Mitzi asked.

“Got a load of gay porn in his name ‘accidentally’ delivered to some of his most powerful Mormon clients. This afternoon, I got into his office posing as a temp worker and sent off a bunch of emails to his client list and attached some pretty hardcore gay sex pics.”

Mitzi turned to her, mouth agape. “No! I thought you didn’t mess with the target’s businesses. I thought that was one of our basic tenets.”

Fay pursed her lips. “He slept with his wife’s sister, aunt and niece.”


“He crossed the line, so I crossed the line. Sleeping with nannies, I get. It’s not good, but I get it. But your wife’s family? That’s sick.”

“Agreed—he’s started driving…” Mitzi started up the van and followed.

The Porsche started wobbling, then one wheel came off, the car skidded, sparks flew from the underneath the vehicle and it came to a stop. Mitzi pulled over and stopped, too.

Fay frowned. “Bummer, I thought all wheels would come off at once and he’d be sitting there on his undercarriage.”

“No, only one did. Kind of disappointing, huh?”

“I’ll say.”

Michael threw open his car door and leapt out, screaming. “Goddamn this! Who did this to me?!” He kicked the car. Balling his fists, he stomped around the car, waving his arms and yelling. “What’s going on?”

He started closely examining the cars on the block.

“Oh, crap, duck!” Fay ordered.

Mitzi and she hit the floor of the van.

A few moments later, Fay peeked up to see where Michael was.

She found herself staring directly into his angry face.

Screaming, she hit the door lock, but too late. He ripped open the door.

“Who the hell are you?!” he demanded.

She kicked him in the solar plexus, sending him reeling back into the middle of the street. “Drive!” she yelled, leaning out to grab the door.

Mitzi started up the van and hit the gas. Just as Fay pulled on the door, Michael grabbed it. Man, he was quick. Running alongside the van, he reached in and took Fay by the collar, his face red and twisted with anger. She punched him, his head jerked back, but he didn’t let go.

Mitzi screamed, “Get rid of him!”

“I’m trying to! Get off me, you wacko! I’m calling the cops!”

“Why are you following me? Why did you wreck my car? I’ll make sure both of you go to jail and neither see the light of day again!” he yelled, keeping pace with Mitzi’s acceleration.

Her heart pumping, adrenaline racing through her veins, Fay flailed, trying to loosen Michael’s grip on her shirt. But he was strong.

“I didn’t hurt your car, you crazy mofo!”

“Bull!” he yelled.

“Hurry!” Mitzi yelled.

Frantic, Fay bit down on Michael’s hand, he screamed and let go. She kicked him hard, he tripped and fell to the pavement. She grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

“Get us out of here!”

Mitzi hit the gas.

Fay’s heart beat so fast, she was worried she was having a heart attack. “We have to change out the plates on the van. Drive to my house, I have the extras in my garage.”

“God, that was close.”

“Too close.”

Mitzi pulled up into Fay’s driveway. Fay leapt out, opened the garage door and allowed Mitzi to pull in.

She shut the garage door and raced for her assortment of license plates. She grabbed the ones that belonged to the van and tore through her tool box. After retrieving a screwdriver, she hurried to the front of the van and began unscrewing the bolts.

“Don’t like those plates?” came a deep voice from behind her.

Fay and Mitzi screamed. There stood Peter in the doorway to the house, his face hard as granite. She nearly passed out.

“I’m late.” Mitzi dashed for the side door and was gone in under two seconds flat.

“Coward!” Fay called after her.

Peter leaned against the door jamb and crossed his ropy arms across his broad chest. “Looks like someone has decided she wants to experience the paddle.”

Fay put her hands up in a defensive posture. “Wait. Now before we get ahead of ourselves, we should discuss this. I know this looks bad, but I have a logical explanation.”

“Which you are currently trying hard to fabricate. Come on, missy, I have some points I need to make with you.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Peter, no. Wait. Look, I tried to get on the plane but it was delayed and—”

“Are you digging your grave even deeper here?”

She sighed, her shoulders drooped. “Probably.”

“Inside, now.”

“But… but…”

“Yes, that’s exactly where my focus is right now. On taming that pretty little ass of yours. No more arguing, inside, I want you in the living room.”

Shuffling towards him, her head bowed, she felt like she was going to her execution. Her legs shook, her heart raced, sweat beaded on her brow.

He moved out of the way and allowed her to pass. She considered running.

“Don’t,” he said. “I saw that thought go through your head. Making me any angrier would be a really, really bad idea.”

Though fear had her limbs nearly paralyzed, she somehow managed to get to the living room. He gave her a gentle push towards a chair standing in the middle of the room. She walked over and a long, wooden plank-like thing laying on the sofa caught her attention. She did a double-take. Her heart stopped.

He’d mentioned a paddling, but somehow she’d interpreted that as a heavy spanking. Not a paddling with an actual paddle.

His instrument of pain was a two-foot long fraternity paddle, but in her mind’s eye it appeared six feet long. Like a diving board.

He moved in front of her, a slight disapproving scowl on his face. If she wasn’t mistaken, his eye were twinkling with excitement.

This is why he wasn’t breaking up with her and storming off, he liked this game. Which was both good and bad. Good because he wouldn’t leave her; bad because he got off on inflicting a deserving punishment. And by his earlier demonstration with his hand, the man probably had a lot of practice with a paddle. Not good.

He hardened his gaze, reached down and unbuttoned her pants. Pushing them over her hips, he hesitated at her sex. He shook his head. “That’s for later.” With a mighty shove, her jeans were at her ankles.

“Step out of them.”

He held onto her while she kicked off her sneakers and the pants. He stood, now towering over her. “The shirt.”

She pulled the shirt over her head. Before she’d even got it all the way off, he unhooked it, releasing her breasts.

Her sex swelled with want. While she was terrified, this was such a turn-on. She’d never been so afraid, nor so horny in her life.

A slight smile played on his lips. “You take this like a good girl and I’ll reward you. But if you try to get away from me, you’ll have to take much, much more before I let you come.”

He nodded at the chair. “Bend over, hands flat on the seat.”

Her lower lip quivered. But she obeyed.

She leaned over and placed her hands on the hard wooden seat. He positioned her, raising her ass higher in the air and parting her legs slightly. He ran a hand over her bare buns, sending tendrils of delight through her sex, igniting her clit. She felt so deliciously vulnerable.

He stood behind her, she couldn’t see what he was doing. He ran something cold and hard over her ass and thighs. The paddle. Her heart pounded in her chest.

“This will hurt,” he said simply. “I’m starting with ten. And you’ll count for me. And you won’t let go of the seat. If you do, I’ll start all over again. No protesting, no begging. You will submit to this and whatever else I want to do you. You forfeited all rights when you lied to me. I own you. I own your ass, your pussy, your will. You are mine.”

She nearly fainted with lust. Her sex was slick with wetness.

Pain seared her ass, the impact was so great, she was thrust forward in the chair. Like fifty thousand bees attacked her ass at once. The agony lingering far past the strike; her whole body tensed. She realized she’d stopped breathing and took in a huge gulp of air. Wow, that was the worst of the worst.

Finally, at the last second, she cried, “One!”

“Good girl. I thought you’d forgotten. Which would have been a shame. My, my, my, look at that color. Nice rectangle there.” He rubbed her ass where he’d hit it. “Damn, that is so pretty,” he voice rough with lust.

Whack! She yelped. “Owwww! Two!” Her legs shook from the pain, it took all her focus to keep from dancing in place. This was terrible!

The weapon cracked against her sit spots, she felt branded. “Three!”

“Four!” Excruciating!

Smack! “Five!” she screamed and then broke into sobs.

Her entire body was on fire. She had no idea the human body could withstand this kind of pain and not bleed.

Peter rapid fire blasted into her butt with the last series of five. She could barely yell out the number before he smacked her with the next. Harrowing.


He stopped, but the pain continued. Her whole body shaking, she gripped the seat for dear life. Tears spilled onto the chair and the floor, she cried softly.

The paddle clattered to the floor, startling her. The sound of a zipper; clothes hitting the floor.

Peter grabbed her hips, kicked her feet apart and entered her.

As he hit her g-spot, the lingering pain from her ass fueled her lust and suddenly, she was on the verge of coming.

What the hell?

“Bad girl,” he growled as he thrust into her, hard. “Such a bad, bad girl. Needs a lesson in who’s boss,” he rasped, his voice strained with lust. “You obey me or you pay the price.”

Screaming, she came, her head swirling with rapture. Pushing back against him, she tried to take him further inside. He moaned and jackhammered into her.

He thrust into her harder and harder, faster and faster. Again and again, she came, her mind so full of his steely cock, his dominance, his strength, she’d never been this turned on in her life.

Peter rode her, slamming against her g-spot, not once missing his target. One after another, she exploded into a succession of violent orgasms. Pounding the seat of the chair with her fist, she howled and wailed with ecstasy.

His legs jerked against the backs of hers, his hands bit into the flesh on her hips, he cried out and rammed into her so hard, it took all her strength to stop them from both toppling over the chair.

She delighted in his powerful thrusts, reveled in the feel of his hard cock inside her. Finally he slowed. When he withdrew, her knees gave way, she crumpled.

All at once, she was in the air, in his arms and he was kissing her. When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with joy. “I love you, baby.”

She jerked her head back, her eyes flew open. “Did you just… did you just say the ‘L’ word?

He stopped and made a face like he was thinking. “Ummm.” He dropped his gaze to hers and burst into a huge smile. “Yes. I did. I love you, you horrible little brat.”

She burst into tears. “I love you, too, Peter!”

“There’s my girl,” he said and kissed her.

©2011, Michelle Carlyle

Friday, April 15, 2011

Revenge, Inc. Part Fourteen

Hey Out There In Cyberspace!

How are you guys? I had a tough week and am going to make this short.

I hope you all have an awesome weekend and that good things are on the horizon for you. That you are growing and making your life better. And that you are surrounded by people who are gentle and kind to you. Because you deserve it.

Hugs and love to you all,

Fay put on her best contrite face. “I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Mitzi had a mortgage payment.”

“I’ll pay her damn mortgage payment. How much do you owe her for the rest of the jobs you had planned?”

“Peter, I’m uncomfortable with your—”

“You’re going to be much more uncomfortable if you don’t obey me.”

“Point taken. I owe her about six grand.”

“Easy. Done.”

“I don’t like this. I pay my own way.”

“I have no issues with that. When you get respectable work—work that won’t put you at risk—you can pay whatever you want. Until then? You obey me and I pay for Mitzi and your expenses until you get work. Got it?” With that, he pulled away, swung his legs off the bed and walked into her bathroom.

She laid back on the bed and bit her lip. Guy took control way too fast. But damn it, he was the first decent man she’d dated in years. Such a dilemma! Fulfill her contractual obligations and get paddled and perhaps lose Peter. Or cancel them, return the money and look like an idiot to her clients. More importantly, two creeps wouldn’t get their comeuppance. The next two on the list were real slimebags.

Harold Stickler had launched a campaign of online harassment against his ex, posting naked pictures of her, which got her fired from her teaching job. Michael Bascomb was a serial cheater who’d slept with his ex wife’s sister, aunt and niece.

Problem was, Peter knew both of the creeps. He’d worked with Harold Stickler for ten years. Granted, Peter made it plain he didn’t care for the man, they still ran in the same circles. Same with Bascomb. Peter wasn’t close to him, but all three attended some of the same yearly functions. They were still in the same social group and belonged to the same men’s club.

Still, if she modified what she did to her targets and created good alibis, Peter wouldn’t find out. She just had to stay one step ahead of him. He’d given her the information that he was watching her, she’d be sure to be more careful.

When he emerged from the bathroom, the sight made her toes curl. The man had a body to die for. Those long powerful thighs, his massive shoulders, his jaw, his captivating blue gaze. Wow. She couldn’t believe he was hers.

He grinned at her reaction and joined her. Taking her in his arms, he kissed her deeply. When he pulled away, he brushed some hair off her brow. “You’re listening to me from now on, right?”

“You bet.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I don’t believe you for a minute.”

She opened her mouth to protest and he shut her up with a kiss. When he finished, he said, “That was to stop any more lies from leaking out of that beautiful mouth of yours. I understand you feel an obligation to your clients, but you still need to quit. You can explain to them what happened. You were found out and had to stop before someone hurt you. You’ve been taking on some pretty powerful men, you know.”

“I know.”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t think you do. I gave Larry Hines my word I’d get you to stop. He was going to sue you into oblivion.”

“For what?”

“For slander, libel and damages to his house. He’s one of the best lawyers in the country. He could get you convicted whether you’d committed a crime or not. You have no idea how much trouble you’ve gotten yourself into here. I know your reasoning, the men have it coming to them. Listen to me. Let their own bad judgment come back on them. You don’t have to quicken the pace. They’ll be their own undoing, believe me. You’re right, they’re all… less than ethical. You don’t need to hasten their demise. They’ll screw up their lives all by themselves.”


“Look, I want to take you away for a week to Hawaii or—”

Her pulse jumped, joy erupted from within her. “Really? I haven’t been to Hawaii for fifteen years! This is so exciting! Really?! Can we?”

He laughed and gave her a squeeze. “Yes, you cute little thing. God, you’re fun. Yeah, I want to screw you from one end of the islands to the other.”

She crushed him in a hug. “How cool!”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

Destroying Michael Bascomb and Harold Stickler. “I have to go see my parents,” she responded quickly. “How about next weekend?”

“Your parents? Where do they live? I’d love to meet them.”

Damn it! “Nebraska.”

“You’re flying to Nebraska?”


He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. You want to see the ticket? Oh, wait. It’s an eticket. You want to see my receipt?” She sat up and made a move towards her computer. “I’ll go get my—“ Just as she’d hoped, Peter grabbed her and brought her close to him. “No, I believe you. When will you be back? You want some company?”

“I’d love it if you went, but I have to talk to them about some important stuff. Their retirement plans and some concerns about their health. Conversations they won’t be happy about.”

“Reluctant to admit they’re aging, huh?”


Peter nodded. “Had that problem. Basically, if they’re stubborn, you have to wait until a life event scares them into reason.”

“Yeah, well, I have to set the foundation so when the event happens, they’ll be more receptive to the idea of moving into a retirement home.”

“You’re a good daughter,” he said, hugging her tightly.

“I try,” she said, feeling rotten.

Her parents already were in a retirement home and very happy there. Oh, well. Once this weekend was over, her jobs would be done. Then she’d never have to lie to Peter again.

©2011, Michelle Carlyle

Friday, April 8, 2011

Revenge, Inc. Part Thirteen

Happy Friday To My Favorite Spankos!

How are you lovely people? I’m doing GREAT!!!!! I won’t discuss how many times I came last night or go into any sordid details about my sex life, just know that Michelle is HAPPY this morning. I only wish Hubby could stay home today from work so I could work him. I still can’t believe we’re working on our 24th year together and our sex life has never diminished in intensity. Yay! Oh. I wasn’t going to discuss that. Oops.

Okie-dokie, so here is a fantastic chapter thingy for you. After this, we’ve only got three more before we move onto another story.

Have a great weekend and I will see you here next Friday!


Fay kicked and screeched and begged Peter to stop, but he ignored her and wailed on her poor, bare ass. Each strike caused her nerves to jump. Pain radiated from her ass, sending tendrils of agony throughout her body. Man, was he mad!

Sure she’d lied to him, but damn it, she had to fulfill her obligations to her clients. Besides, she’d already spent their money. Besides, Jerry Neighbor deserved what he got.

Of course, Peter didn’t care about that. All he cared about was taming her. That was clear.

“Peter, stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorr-eeeee!”

“What did I tell you? What did you promise me? Was that all smoke? Is this your idea of telling the truth?”

“No! Owww!”

He strafed her butt with fearsome swats, around and around and around. He spanked the top of her ass, all the way down to her sit spots. After performing a percussion solo on her most sensitive spots, he slapped her upper thighs, then started all over again.

Her butt blazed with sharp stinging pain. Sweat poured off her body, her throat was hoarse from yelling, but nothing she did seem to slow him. She’d never felt the likes of this kind of torment in her life.

All at once, he stopped. He stood, taking her with him, spun her around and laid a liplock on her.

Pain mixed with lust for a potent effect. Fay’s mind went from processing agony to processing a deluge of sexual thoughts.

How could this be? How could she be this turned on after he blistered her ass?

He pulled away, his gaze dark and hungry. He picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and carried her to her bedroom.

In one move, she was on the bed on her back, her panties gone and he was inside her. A fierce expression on his handsome carved face, he ploughed into her. She screamed with delight. Her sex spasmed around his steely cock, she dug her fingers into his broad shoulders, her mouth open wide in cries of ecstasy.

Grunting, he increased his pace. Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them above her head. “I am the boss of you. Me. You do what I say,” he growled, his thrusting into her hard. “Say it, say you’ll obey me!”

“I’ll obey you! I’ll obey you—aaaahhhhh!” she yelled, coming so hard, white lights streaked her vision.

She could barely get air in her lungs before she screamed again. Dizzy, reeling, she transported to a semi-conscious world of pure rapture. Lost in one long, amazing orgasm, she exulted in the feel of his rock-hard tool inside her.

His body jerked, he let out a bellow that shook the windows and came inside her, propelling her into another thunderous climax. She howled like a wild animal, her body shuddering and shaking with the final throes. Awe-inspiring sex. Stupendous sex. There weren’t enough adjectives to describe the splendor.

She lay there, the room spinning, he slipped out of her and lay down beside her. Taking her into his sweaty arms, he kissed her cheek and nuzzled her neck.

She gave a short chuckle. All she could manage. “I’m undone. You undid me. Wow. That was great.”

“Yes…” he said in a tone that made her skin prickle.

He still wasn’t done reprimanding her. Damn it. She’d hoped with that wonderful sex, he’d forget all about her transgression.

She angled a glance at him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth twisted in disapproval. “You’re still in trouble.” His tone was a low purr, but laced with warning.

A thrill went through her loins, sparking them back to life. He was such a turn-on! She loved this whole Dom thing he had going on.

However, it still didn’t change her mind. She had contractual obligations no amount of spanking could get her to cancel.

First she had to discover how he’d found out she’d lied.

“I’m sure. So what tipped you off?”

“Followed you. I was going to surprise you with a dinner out, but when I saw you leave here in this skimpy, little cocktail—speaking of which—” He sat up, bringing her with him. “I want this off of you. And you aren’t to wear it for anyone but me. Is that understood?” he ordered, turning her around to unzip her.

No. “Yes, Peter.”

She helped him push the dress off. He wadded it into a ball and tossed it into a corner of her bedroom. She wanted to protest this unceremonious disposal, but he took her in his arms and hugged her to him, dropping a hand between her legs. A few strokes and her train of thought went off its rails.

He laughed, deep in his throat. “You are so fun.”

Nibbling along her neck, he increased his pace with his fingers. Without warning, she came, yelling out, grabbing his hand and pressing it tightly to her sex. Fully relishing the feel of his strong hand, the scent of his cologne mixed with his heady maleness, she threw herself into the ecstasy. She’d never had this much fun with a lover before. Peter was amazing.

Once she calmed, he ripped off the rest of his clothes, climbed on top and rode her into prolonged bliss. No man had ever felt like this, made love like this to her. He was made for her. They fit together perfectly.

Except for those pesky morals of his. Oh, well, if she kept him this happy in the sack, that would have some affect on his brain. How could it not?

Afterwards, he held her in his arms. “New rules. You lie to me, disobey me, I paddle you. If that doesn’t work, it’s the cane.”

Fay pushed away to check his face for seriousness. He was serious, all right. His square jaw tight, his ice-blue eyes hard, his sensual lips firm, the man had on his I-Mean-Business face.

Hmph! She’d seen this expression before on her men. Peter would figure it out eventually. He had no real control over her. She just had to get better at the game. As hot as he was, she wasn’t rolling over and playing dead for him.

©2011, Michelle Carlyle

Friday, April 1, 2011

I'm Quitting Blogging For A New Business Venture

Dear Fans and Friends,

After a long and painful reflection of the last two and a half years of blogging, I have come to a very hard decision. I am giving up writing spanking fiction and I will be embarking on a totally new career: developing vegetable hybrids of cucumbers and zucchini to make them more closely resemble the human penis.

My Veg-A-Dildos® will be sold online and in sex shops. Included with my Veg-A-Dildos will be a Veg-A-Dildo® After Sex Cookbook featuring many recipes for after lovemaking snacking. Just think! You can use your Veg-A-Dildo to tantalize your lover, then chop up the Veg-A-Dildo, cook and serve it to them for a spectacular apres sex meal! The possibilities are endless.

If you'd like to get in on the ground floor of this new exciting financial venture, please send cucumber and zucchini seeds, plus one hundred dollars via Paypal to my email address. Get in on the fun! Make some money! Add some spice to your sex life!

Veg-A-Dildos®!!!! The product for the future!

Michelle Carlyle, President of Veg-A-Dildos®

Revenge, Inc. Part Twelve

Hey Spankos!

I hope you had a great week! I have to run, I have lots to do today! So I hope you enjoy this installment of Revenge, Inc., and I’ll see you next week!


Later, Fay drove home, a check for twenty grand in her purse, a song in her heart. She shifted on her seat, a bit sore from her afternoon of unexpected, yet amazing fun.

While she felt weird about taking his money, she never wanted to do anything to disappoint Peter again. She’d never fallen in love this fast before. She didn’t tell him because he didn’t mention the “l” word, but she’d fallen hard for the man. She wasn’t too worried about him not saying it, he’d spoken so much about their future together.

He was so hot! So tall, his lips, his jaw, his teeth, his cock, she wanted it all. All of him.

And damn, what was up with that spanking? She’d actually come from it. Of course, his wonderful touch on her clit hadn’t hurt. But that was so fun!

She’d only tried spanking once with one boyfriend, but he was so wimpy, she hadn’t gotten into it. But Peter was a natural born Dom. And wow, had that lit her fire! So unexpected. But so fun.

She squirmed. He mentioned about using all kinds of things on her. Playing all sorts of games, doing unimaginable things to her. Her head swam with lust. Were all her secret fantasies going to come true?

Apparently. Only one caveat. Peter was a kind of a hardass. If she didn’t play by his rules, there would be consequences. A whole new world for her. She wasn’t used to consequences. She’d always ruled the relationship. Always controlled her men. What would it be like to not have that kind of control?

In one word: exciting. Very exciting. Would make all the time between the sheets fifty times more fun than with the other guys. Finally, a guy she’d look forward to screwing. She always enjoyed sex, but after a few years (and after she got total control over her men), she lost interest.

Somehow she didn’t think that would be a problem with Peter. Her only problem would be keeping her last few jobs from him. She had to take the money from him to make him think she was quitting. Before they got that close, she’d finish up her jobs, then retire. By then, Mitzi and she would have time to get better jobs.

Besides, she’d been looking forward to her next job. Jerry Neighbor. Skirt-chasing jerk. Humiliated his wife when he left her for their nanny. Who was just twenty-one and he was fifty-one. Plus he’d gotten the house and the kids. Nancy Neighbor was devastated. Fay had to help her. Peter didn’t have to know.

Besides, now that she was with Peter, she could keep a better eye on him. Finish the jobs and be done with it. Then they could live happily ever after.

Even though she still had her fears. How could he go from hating her to wanting her in his life? Still, he didn’t seem like a liar. Even if he had said hurtful things about her to his friend. She wondered what that friend would think about her now. Hopefully, his friends wouldn’t try to talk him out of being with her.

Of course, she’d messed over most of them. That wasn’t very promising for their future. Her stomach roiled. Was she heading for the worst heartache of her life?

Maybe so, but at this point, there was no way to stop it.

Fay laughed until her sides ached.

Mitzi was cracking up so hard, tears formed in her eyes. “Did you see the look on his face? Oh, my God, I thought I would die!”

“I’m so glad you could be there. You’ve missed half these guys’ reactions.”

“That was too funny. Oh, God, his date! Man, I’m surprised his face didn’t melt off from that glare of hers.”

Fay nodded. “Oh, God, that was a good one. Damn it, I left my clothes back at home. I’m stuck in this stupid cocktail outfit. And man is it squishing my boobs.”

Mitzi gave her the once over. “Looks great on you, though. A little too Playboy Bunny, but hot.”

“Yeah, I gotta get home and get changed. Peter’s coming over later.”

“One more job and you never have to lie to him again.”

“Thank God. I didn’t feel good about it, but hey.”

“That jerk deserved it. Okay, here you are. Call me tomorrow and we’ll figure out our plan of attack for the last idiot.”

“Cool.” Fay opened the door to Mitzi’s van. “See ya!”

“Tomorrow,” Mitzi said.

Fay let herself in and threw the keys in the ashtray near the door. Flicking on the lights, she tossed her purse on the couch.

Movement caught her attention from the corner of her living room.

She gasped and leapt for the door. Then she realized it was Peter, sitting in her favorite recliner.

He stood, his handsome face granite. “Jerry Neighbor?”

Panic constricted her throat. Sweat broke out on her forehead. “Uh…”

“You lied to me.”

“No, I twisted the truth.”

He blinked, his face reddened, his brow went into a deep V. “Are you trying to get out of this?”

“Um. Look, I—”

In two large strides, Peter was towering over her. He latched onto her wrist with an iron grip and yanked her over to the living room couch.


She attempted to pull away, but he had an inexorable hold on her. He sat, dragging her down across his lap.

She thrashed, trying to get away, but he pinned her fast. He tugged her panties down to mid-thigh. Her extremely short dress didn’t even need to be moved out of the way, it was already up around her back.

Pain seared her ass. His amazingly huge and strong hand felt like a plank of hard wood as it impacted her poor buns. Her body jarred with each strike. Agony flooded her system. She kicked and protested and promised him she’d never lie to him again, but nothing worked. The man was making an example out of her.

And such an example it was. He incinerated her ass. While she assumed she’d survive the spanking, would their relationship survive her lies?

She burst into tears, worry mixed with pain. Had she blown it? Would he leave her?

©2011, Michelle Carlyle