Burr…it’s old outside, a spanking is in order and the spanker has cold, cold hands. Sure your bottom will be hot, but what about the rest of you? How do you stay warm during your cold-handed, bare bottomed spanking? Here are my ideas. Share yours and you’ll be entered into a random drawing to win a copy of Terran, the second book in the Breeder series when it is published this year (probably this spring). Please see the detail below about this prize.*
- Wear socks. Warm tootsies can warm your tushie.
- Don mittens. Your hands can be warm even if the spanker’s aren’t.
- Fur-lined handcuffs. Keeps your hands from getting the way and keeps you toasty.
- Get your buns roasted in front of an open fire. Receive your spanking in front of the fireplace.
- Drape the spanker’s lap with fuzzy afghan.
- Begin with a massage.
- Precede the spanking with a hot bath.
- Add some heat with a finger of ginger.
- End your spanking with a cuddle and some hot sex.
Now what are your ideas? Be as silly or serious in your suggestions as you want.
Click on the Winter Spanks graphic above to visit the other authors and enter to win some great prizes!
To secure his legacy, Commander Dak, a ruling Alpha of planet Parseon, purchases Omra, a breeder slave. He intends to impregnate her, produce a son, and hand her off to his anointed beta partner. As Dak and Omra discover a sexual bliss banned by law, he begins to question the traditions and ways of his people, causing him to jeopardize his command and endanger the life of the woman he has come to love.
If not for the sneeze, Dak would have exited the musty, dank corridor. But the muffled sound caught his attention. When he squinted into the darkened cell, he spotted a female crouched on a straw mat in the corner. He hadn’t noticed her on his way into the Breeder Containment Facility; the habitation unit had appeared empty.
Dak turned to the BCF director and sighed. “What about her?”
The beta’s already crooked mouth drooped farther in distaste. “My apologies, Commander. You don’t want that one.”
Sival’s disparagement piqued Dak’s interest. The director’s opinion had proven worthless; none of the breeders he’d preselected for inspection had rated close to satisfactory.
“I would like to see her,” Dak insisted.
“Very well, Commander.” Sival saluted and opened the habitation cell with a master entry card. Dak stepped into the small enclosure. The director followed, and the metal gate clanked shut.
The naked female drew into a tighter ball and tucked her face deeper into the crook of her arm. Other breeders had preened as soon as they’d noticed him and his chest-insignia identification. He wasn’t just an alpha. He was the Alpha.
This breeder’s lack of respect and failure to adhere to Protocol by acknowledging his presence struck him as odd. Dak frowned. “Is she mentally deficient?”
Sival tightened his lips. “No, stubborn, ill behaved. She would not befit an Alpha Commander.” He nudged the female’s hip with the toe of his boot. “Rise to your feet.” She did not respond, and he moved to prod her again. Dak forestalled him with a wave and grasped the female’s arm.
“You will stand.” He hauled her upright. She averted her face, so he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Tangled hair the color of black heating stones fell back from an oval face to reveal eyes like the Parseon moon. The glimmer of intelligence that sparked within the violet depths aroused his interest more than anything else he’d seen so far. Nature had bestowed the Parseon people with an exceptionally strong immune system so that they rarely required medical intervention, but breeders by nature were weak, and so many of the ones he’d seen had seemed dull or ill or both. This one’s skin, when unsmudged by grime and dirt, probably glowed like the pale sands of the Ospian Sea. He supposed, as breeders went, she wasn’t unattractive, although the stench emanating from her was. His beta would throw a fit if he dragged such a creature into their domicile.
“Why is she so filthy?” he asked.
“She refuses to bathe.”
As Dak scrutinized her facial features for shape and symmetry, he noted little imperfection or dysgenics other than her lack of hygiene and her gender. When cleaned up, she would please the eye, but to bear his sons, it mattered more that she be healthy and strong.
He released her face, stepped back, and assessed her from head to toe. He exceeded the height of most males, alphas included, while she stood smaller than the average female. The top of her head failed to even meet his shoulder. She was thinner than other breeders too, although her chest bore an abundance of fatty breast tissue. In the chill of the cell, her nipples had puckered to hard points. Despite the coolness, he was experiencing a rise in temperature. A dormant lust chose that moment to kindle, causing heat to coil in his abdomen and groin. He could not remember the last time he’d experienced such a spontaneous reaction—if he ever had. With the pads of his fingers, he probed the sides of her neck for swollen areas. The way she trembled under his touch aroused a sliver of sympathy. Breeders lacked courage, and uncertainty frightened them. Not all alphas and their betas treated breeders well. If he chose her, she would be adequately fed and housed. His command consumed his time and energy, which left his beta alone for long stretches. A breeder would relieve Corren of household chores and provide him with a physical outlet as well.
“What is she called?” Dak asked.
“Her sire named her Omra.”
Peace, it meant.
He parted Omra’s lips with his fingers and slipped a digit into her mouth, running it along her upper gum line to check the solidness of her teeth. At a flash in her eyes, he jerked his hand away a centisecond before she snapped her jaws together, so that her incisor only grazed the tip of his finger.
Sival’s face reddened. “Commander, I apologize. I will have her flogged.”
“Unnecessary. I will take care of it.” He unclipped the sudon from his belt.
♥ ♥ ♥
* The winner of Terran will be announced Monday, Jan. 6, 2014, but the prize will not be awarded until later this year, possibly as late as June 2014. I am currently preparing Breeder 2: Terran for submission to Loose Id, my publisher. In the unlikely event that is not published, the winner of this contest will receive a $10 Amazon gift certificate. If you win and you do not wish to wait for the publication of Terran and want your prize immediately, you may accept the Amazon certificate in lieu of a copy of Terran. For either prize, you must leave a valid email address either in the body of your comment or in the sign-in comment form.