Monthly Maintenance: Selected Stories from Blushing Books Authors

by Blushing Books

  "But, Ricky," she pleaded with the most adorable pout. "What about Rosie's party? And we were going to Rottnest and the movies and we had so much planned for the holidays."

  "I know. It would be a terrible waste if we have to miss out, but it's your choice," he told her again, quietly but firmly. "Just be a good girl and take your spanking now and we can still do all the things we planned."

  "But, you're not my Dad," she said, looking a little bewildered. "Why would you spank me?"

  Rick took her in his arms. "No," he murmured gently "I'm not your father and I'm really glad about that. I certainly don't want to be your father, but I care about you and I want to protect and look after you, in some ways like a father might, but in a lot of other ways as well, totally not like a father. I want you to know where the boundaries are and if you stay within them I'll look after you in every way I can. But if you step over them, I'll spank you to remind you to be more careful in future." Sensing she was finding it difficult to tell him what she wanted, he drew her to the bed and sat down, then gently tugged her hand.

  "Come on, Babe. I think we both need this." He had no idea where that last had come from, but he somehow understood that this first spanking would redefine their relationship in a way nothing else could, that it would put them both where they would always find the most joy and contentment.

  He tugged again and this time she went across his knee and he felt a tingle of excitement as he saw her instinctively clasp her hands in front of her. As much as he desired her, he'd deliberately refrained from introducing sex into their relationship, although they had indulged in heavy sessions which had included almost everything but the final possession. Still, he hadn't yet made love to her properly and this was the first time he'd spanked her, so he resisted the temptation to bare her bottom.

  He did, however, lift up her skirt and her thin high-cut panties afforded her cheeks scant protection. He raised his hand and brought it down crisply. It landed with a loud thwack! creating an instant pink handprint on the part of her flesh not covered by white lace. A heady feeling of power tempered with deep emotion surged through him. He was hooked, both on the lovely girl across his knee and this new and unexpected way of dealing with her.

  Locking his arm around her waist, he spanked her without worrying about what was the right way to do it. It just came naturally, and he smiled with recognition as she began to kick and wriggle beneath him as the steady drumming of his hand on her bottom created a growing sting.

  At last she cried out. "No, Rick. Please. I won't do it again. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

  The words tumbled out on top of each other as the burning heat in her bottom became less and less bearable.

  "Please . . " He could hear the crack in her voice and discovered the double-edged sword of providing loving discipline. His head told him he was doing the right thing and it was not quite time to stop, but his heart couldn't bear to hear the pain and sadness in her voice as she pleaded with him to end her torment.

  "Shh, Baby," he whispered, rubbing her back as he'd seen her father do. "Be brave now. It's almost over." And steeling himself against his desire to stop the punishment and take her in his arms, he forced himself to finish with a flurry of hard fast blows which made her cry out again and again.

  That night he made love to her for the first time, and that night, also for the first time, he told her he loved her above and beyond anything. For the next year, there was plenty of spanking and plenty of loving, but then things began to change.

  "What happened?" Across the hotel dining table, Mary regarded him with soft compassion. When Rick had finally returned to the Merlin the previous evening, after endless hours of aimless driving, wondering, thinking and remembering, he'd headed straight to bed, glad he was able to simply disappear into sleep for innumerable hours whenever he was truly miserable. Mary had rung in the middle of the next morning and he'd simply said he thought he'd have a quiet day in his room but would meet her for dinner that evening, the last before they flew north again the next day, Saturday, the day Briony was to wed David.

  And so now here they were, and Mary, who'd appointed herself a kind of surrogate mother to him when he'd arrived on the Burrup as a greenhorn, was gently waiting for his answer.

  "It sounds like you loved each other a lot," she prompted him again, having just heard a brief version (minus the spanking) of his relationship with Briony.

  "We did and everything was perfect for a while, but she was so young then. She didn't really know what she wanted. She dropped out of uni and took a job with her friend, Rosie, at the Hamburger Grove. I was working on my doctorate and I guess I just seemed very boring to a young girl who just wanted to have a good time. And then she met David."

  "Ah," Mary nodded wisely. "And so she called off her relationship with you."

  "No," Rick surprised her by saying. "Not in so many words. But he was everything I wasn't: sophisticated, working, he had money and a fancy car and plenty of time to take her places."

  "Were these things important to Briony?"

  "I hoped they weren't," he growled, unable to conceal a touch of bitterness. "I mean, she was always telling me not to be jealous. That she and David were just friends and they only went out as a threesome with Rosie. In fact, she suggested I went along a few times, but I was always busy and besides, it wasn't really my scene at all. So I just told her go ahead. It didn't seem fair to stand in her way when I was being so boring with my work and all."

  "Is it possible she may have been flattered by a small show of jealousy on your part?" Mary asked.

  Rick looked at her in complete surprise. The thought had obviously not occurred to him before, but after considering it for a moment, he shook his head.

  "Nah, I doubt it," he said finally. "I never saw much evidence she was missing my company."

  "So you just drifted apart?"

  "Sort of," Rick answered grimly. "For a while. But the final straw came after I got the job up north. I decided to take a gamble and ask her to marry me. She wasn't expecting me - obviously - because when I got there I found her with David. She didn't even see me, but I saw her kissing him. I just went home, packed and the next day was in Karratha. I told Mum not to tell her where I was, just that I'd be in touch, but I didn't contact her again, not until today. And that turned out to be a bloody huge mistake, didn't it. There she was, wearing the dress she's going to wear when she marries David tomorrow. Thank God we're getting out of here in the morning. I don't exactly want to be around to kiss the bride."

  But if Rick thought he was going to be able to sneak away without having to come face to face with his nightmare, fate had other ideas.

  The early light the next morning found him already dressed and packing. The terrible weight of the day's impending event was heavy on his mind, and he was longing to put as much distance between himself and Briony as he could. But it was not to be. Shattering his reverie and destined to shatter his plans, the phone suddenly jangled in his ear.

  Immediately he'd replaced the receiver, he slammed down the lid on his suitcase and swore out loud. Then he picked the phone back up and barked "room 210" at the startled operator.

  "Hello," came Mary's voice seconds later.

  "Mary," Rick's voice was tightly controlled. "Rick. Will just called. We've gotta leave early. He wants me to pick up some plans on the way to the airport."

  "Oh, okay. I'm ready anyway. Rick," she added gently "are you okay?"

  "Yeah, just great," he answered with heavy irony. "Apparently the office I have to pick them up from is on Beaufort Street, so if we go down Walcott Street we'll go right past the church Briony's getting married at. Probably be just in time to see the happy couple emerge as man and wife."

  And he hung up quickly before Mary could speak again. He just couldn't bear the thought of any more pity.

  At 10.50am they were in the taxi and on their way. Try as he might, Rick could think of nothing else other than that in ten minutes time Briony would belong t
o another man forever. There was a vague sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and a painful tightness in his chest as the taxi pulled up outside the address where the plans were waiting. After satisfying himself that everything Will needed was there, Rick returned to the taxi, suggesting to the driver that it might be quicker if they turned off Beaufort Street there and headed down to Lord Street rather than risk getting stuck at the Walcott Street lights.

  The driver looked bemused, but having decided years ago that there was no point arguing with his customers, he turned off where Rick was pointing, and came out two blocks down at a park where he was forced to turn left. Too late Rick realized his mistake. The taxi was already pulling up at the stop sign directly outside the church and judging by the people milling around its entrance, the newly-wed couple were indeed emerging, just as Rick had foretold. Keeping his eyes averted, he cursed the line of cars in front and the seemingly never ending stream preventing them from turning out onto the busy major road.

  Mary, however, was unable to resist and as the couple came into sight she exclaimed "Well, you were right, Rick. She really is a beautiful bride."

  Unable to stop himself, Rick turned to look. Mary heard him draw in his breath sharply. "No she isn't!" he cried.

  "What?" cried Mary, surprised by his vehemence. "Rick, what is it?"

  "It's not her," Rick exclaimed joyfully. "It's Rosie. Mary, Briony's not the bride - she's the bridesmaid!"

  Suddenly Rick recognized the look that had been on her lovely face as he'd left the house in such a hurry two days earlier, the look that had so baffled him at the time - it rose up before him now and he knew without a doubt that it was love.

  "Wait here please, driver," Rick called as he leapt from the taxi and ran towards her. In an instant, Briony had seen him too and rushed to meet him.

  Mary's eyes filled with tears as she saw the lovers look deeply into each others eyes, wordlessly, hungrily, until Rick's arms went out and snatched her to him. For a moment, Briony just lay against him unable to move; not wanting to break the spell, but eventually she turned to look up at him.

  "Mary?" she asked tremulously.

  "That's Mary in the taxi," Rick grinned. "She's a wonderful, wonderful person and I do love her - but only as a friend."

  Briony looked at the grey-haired woman watching them delightedly from the taxi.

  "Could you really have thought I could ever love anyone but you, Briony?"

  "Then why did you leave me? Without even a word."

  "I thought you were in love with David," Rick told her. "Things weren't going so great between us, remember. Not for quite a while. And then I came around to . to . to see you, and you were in his arms."

  "What?!" Briony looked aghast. "You might have seen me hug him, but that's all it would have been. He and Rosie were already becoming a couple. If you'd ever come out with us like I asked, you'd have seen that for yourself. Although, it's true, I did try and make you jealous because you seemed so stuck on your work and I thought you were relieved to have me off your hands."

  "I should spank you for that," he growled, pulling her tighter. "All this wasted time. And then when I saw you wearing the dress when I came round the other day I thought it was you who was getting married."

  "Oh, no!" Briony was obviously shocked. "I was just helping Mum adjust the length. Oh Rick, I was so sad when you went. There's never been anyone else but you."

  "Well, I can't say I felt that was the case back then," Rick said, remembering those awful days of doubt and despair.

  "I know." Briony kissed him gently. "I wasn't really being very nice. I was behaving a bit like a vain and shallow child, but I never thought it would mean I'd lose you. Maybe it was for the best now, though. I've grown up since you went, Rick. I'm not that same thoughtless person now."

  "I think maybe I will spank you anyway - for then," he whispered with a grin, loving the way it made her blush and wriggle. "And maybe not just once, maybe every day for the rest of my life. What do you say?"

  "How about just when I'm naughty?" she smiled back.

  "Well, maybe. I'll think about it, okay?"

  "Hmm, okay, then. I guess it'll have to do."

  "So you will marry me, then?" he asked, serious now. "Even though I mean it about spanking you whenever I say so, and that will be often."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way," she assured him with a kiss.

  "Hey, Briony." A shout from the church steps brought them back to the present. "Come on. Rosie and David are leaving."

  "Quick," Rick cried, grabbing her hand and led her to the taxi. "Mary," he called as they reached the window. "This is Briony."

  "Hello, dear," Mary smiled at the radiant couple, so obviously in love.

  "Would you mind getting those plans to Will for me?" Rick asked. "I think I'll stay a couple more days. I've got some important business to attend to."

  "Of course I will," Mary promised. "But what about your case?"

  "Put it in Dad's car," Briony suggested. It's just there in the car park."

  Moments later, the luggage transferred and Mary farewelled, they made their way hand in hand back to where the guests were congratulating the bride and groom as they too prepared to depart. Just before she climbed into the waiting limousine, Rosie turned and threw her bouquet to the waiting crowd. As though drawn by a magnet, it went straight to Briony who caught it with a delighted laugh.

  And as the taxi turned the corner and headed for the airport, Mary looked back through the rear window. Her last sight of Rick and Briony was wrapped in each others arms, their deep, precious kiss sealing the promise of a lifetime of love foreshadowed by the falling bouquet.

  Miss Independence

  By Vicki Blue

  Miss Independence by Vicki Blue

  “Damn kids.“

  Sheriff Roark Wheeler frowned as he put his cruiser in reverse and backed up until his window was level with the alley. Beside the dumpster, three boys looked up with nervous expressions as they attempted to fan away the wispy smoke from the forbidden stash. One picked a handful up from the ground and tossed it in the dumpster.”

  Roark got out of his car. “Stand back! Hands up where I can see them!”

  The boys - all under age fourteen - stood, looking guiltily from one to another. Busted.

  Roark shook his head as he approached. It was days like this he wished he’d taken a job as an urban cop instead of a small town sheriff. If he had, he’d be chasing down drug dealers instead of escapees from the local youth program.

  Glancing at the boys in irritation, he reached into the dumpsters and pulled out three still smoldering sparklers and threw them down beside the stash of illegal fireworks that lay at the boys’ feet. “Nice move, guys. You know, if you‘re going to try burning the town down or blowing your hands off, you could at least have the courtesy to wait until the Fourth of July. It‘s just one day away.”

  The boys said nothing as they stood there, heads down, shuffling their feet.

  “Let me guess,” he continued. “Ms. Klein has no idea where you are.”

  “Yeah she does,” said the shortest boy defensively. “She gave us good behavior passes to go to the park.”

  “And this is how you reward her trust?,” said Roark, “because I’m willing to bet that pass didn’t include permission to buy illegal fireworks and set them off in the alley behind the furniture store.”

  The boys shook their heads.

  “Come on. I’ll take you back to the house.”

  One of the boys reached down to pick up the remaining fireworks, but the sheriff stopped them. “Uh-uh,’ he said. “Those are mine now.” He gave them a stern look. “Evidence.”

  “Are you going to charge us?” the short boy - which Roark decided must be the leader - moaned. “Because I don’t want to go back to juvenile hall.”

  Roark had no intention of charging them, for something he’d done himself as a kid, but he wasn’t going to let them know that. “I haven’t decided,” he s
aid. He watched the boys file into the back seat of the cruiser. It didn’t surprise him that the boys wanted to stay at Chloe Klein’s place. Damn hippie chick had no business running a halfway house for youth.

  As Roark guided the cruiser up to the front of her sprawling Victorian house the adjectives townspeople used to describe Chloe Klein sprang to mind. “Quirky.” “Feisty” “Weird.”

  The house was painted a bright blue, with purple trim. The garden was filled with flowers that were bursting forth in an explosion of color. Outside was a sign proclaiming the place “Sunshine House.” It was common knowledge that the boys assigned here from juvenile hall often didn’t want to go inside upon arriving on the grounds that the place looked “totally gay.” But once they did, they became fond of Chloe, who put them to work gardening or attending her small menagerie of poultry and farm animals. Bonfires were commonly sighted on the property, and the youth at Sunshine House had become famous (or infamous) for the expressive murals they painted on the long wood fences that ran the sides of Chloe’s property. Chloe also got the boys involved in community projects - including the community garden and doing home repairs for the poor. Her tactics were unconventional but successful; the recidivism rate for boys graduating from Sunshine House were low.

  Roark considered it nothing more than coincidence. Boys needed discipline. Hell, the way he saw it, everyone needed discipline and the problem with today’s society was the feel-good approach to dealing with rebellion.