Rules For Spanking: MMF Bisexual Romance

by A. Anders

  First up, ‘Spanking Her Curves’. This is one of the only M/F romance in the bunch. It’s a little different from the rest, but if you like steamy stories with spanking, they you’ll definitely like it!

  What follows:

  Spanking Her Curves 1-4

  While My Family Sleeps 1-4

  My Boyfriend’s Twin 1-4

  My Boyfriend’s Dominating Dad 1-4

  Dying for the Rose (Full length Novel)

  Island Candy: Prequel

  *****

  Spanking Her Curves 1-4

  Spanking Her Curves

  Bella Jacobs hesitated only a moment before changing her status from “In a Relationship” to “Single.” Her hesitation had nothing to do with how she felt about Mark, and everything to do with the questions she knew were going flood her inbox and phone.

  As soon as she changed it, she immediately logged out and closed her laptop. It was less than ten minutes before her sister called. She didn’t answer. Bella wasn’t ready to talk to her about it yet, to Nicole with her perfect life. Nicole would never, could never understand what it was like for Bella, not really. Nicole was pretty, petite and perfect. She had a perfect husband, perfect kids and a perfect house. She didn’t know anything about being overweight, single, and almost thirty.

  After staring at the once again silent phone, Bella sighed, got up off the couch, and went into the kitchen. Romeo, the plump tabby that Bella had adopted from the shelter a couple years before, followed her as he always did.

  Romeo meowed his charming meow and planted himself by his food bowl. He knew her moods and knew that when she was upset, she made herself indulgent comfort foods. And when she indulged herself, she indulged him as well. Romeo rubbed against her leg purring, waiting for the food that didn’t come.

  This evening Bella just leaned against the counter and sighed. Mark, like too many guys she had dated, had been a world-class jerk beneath a thin veneer of niceness. Sure, he had been good-looking, but he was also vain, and it didn’t take long before he began preying upon her doubts of self-worth to make himself feel better. The final straw was when he had the nerve to say to her, “I don’t care what my friends say, I like fat girls”. Looking back at it now, she knew that she had stayed with him too long.

  Bella finally obeyed Romeo’s meowing when the meowing turned from charming to imperative. She got some cheese out of the refrigerator to crumble into his bowl.

  “I’m not fat. Not really…” she said to Romeo knowing that he would agree.

  Bella knew that she wasn’t anyone’s definition of skinny and never had been. She loved food too much. She was definitely full-figured, but Mark had made it sound like she was morbidly obese. He was definitely a jerk.

  ‘And didn’t his face look shocked when I told him to get out,’ she thought with a smile. ‘A pretty guy like him certainly wasn’t used to fat girls like me doing the dumping.’

  What had upset her was that she had known he was a jerk, and had known she was going to break up with him. She just couldn’t get herself to do it before it hurt. Hearing the word ‘fat’ hurt. Knowing that she had been forced into being alone again, hurt. Knowing that, once again, she’d been a fool to believe some guy’s lies, hurt.

  Romeo finished the cheese and again rubbed against her legs pulling her out of her thoughts. Bella scooped him up and cuddled him to her ample bosom. She rubbed her cheek against his head as he rubbed his head against her cheek in return.

  “But you love me, don’t you, Romeo?” she asked listening to his relaxed purring. “You don’t care how much I weigh or what size dress I wear, do you?”

  “Meow,” Romeo answered.

  “You’re the last of the good men,” she decided never wanting to let him go.

  Bella looked up when the phone rang again. Crossing the room to see who it was it took only a second for her to decide to answer it. Dylan Cole had been her friend since high school. They had been in many of the same classes freshman year, and like every other girl in school she couldn’t help but notice how gorgeous he was. When so many boys were gangly and awkward, he was already tall and lean. He had dark curly hair and bright blue eyes. All the girls fawned over him, including her sister Nicole, who was already a junior.

  Bella had been utterly surprised when he had started joking with her in homeroom and then sitting with her during lunch. It turned out that they liked many of the same books, movies, and music so their friendship came easily and naturally. Of course, harboring a secret crush on him for years, she did have to bury her bitter jealousy as he dated one perky cheerleader after another. But what made it a lot easier was that those girls came and went, while their friendship only deepened.

  “Hi, Dylan,” she said cradling both Romeo and the phone. “If you say one word about Mark, I’ll hang up.”

  “I have nothing to say on the subject,” he reassured her. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing. Taking a bath and going to bed.”

  “Sounds great. On my way.”

  Bella giggled in the way that only Dylan could make her. “Yeah, right. You can make sure I don’t miss any spots.”

  “You know it, gorgeous.” He paused. “Seriously, I’m at the video store; I already picked up a couple bottles of wine. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  “Dylan…” Bella allowed the wiggling Romeo to escape from her arms and then crossed into the living room. “Dylan, I really don’t feel like talking about it.”

  “Talking about what? I’m bringing over a movie or two and we’re going to have some wine. Maybe I’ll be able to convince you to make me some of your famous mac-and-cheese?” He paused again. “Look, pretty lady, I don’t know about you but I had kind of a crappy day and I’d like to just chill for a while with my best friend. If you really don’t want me to come over, I guess I could go home.”

  Bella looked at the framed photo of Dylan and herself by the television. It was taken a few summers before at a Renaissance Faire. He’d convinced her to dress up, and although she’d been uncomfortable at first, it wasn’t long before she was relaxed and having fun. It was always fun with him, and their smiles in the picture were proof.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll even make dinner. What movies are you getting?”

  “I don’t know, something stupid with lots of explosions, probably.”

  He knew her so well. After yet another break up, the last thing she wanted to see was a movie with even a hint of romance.

  “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  Bella set a pot of water to boil and then exited to change into her pajamas. ‘Another nice thing about Dylan,’ she thought as she undressed, ‘I don’t have to worry about dressing up in uncomfortable clothes, pretending to be someone I’m not whenever he comes over. He’s seen me at my worst and accepts me just as I am.’

  Bella opened the drawer and instinctually reached for her break-up uniform. The ancient sweatpants and ratty tee-shirt was almost a dress code in times like this. But something told her not to. Allowing her hand to drift to it without thought she instead fingered her rose-colored silk lounge set. She had gotten it just in case someone special had ever deserved to see her in it; nobody ever had.

  Tonight, though, was the night. Bella slipped into the lounge set adding the fuzzy slippers Dylan had gotten her last Christmas. Quickly checking out herself in the mirror, she returned to the kitchen to start the mac-n-cheese. As a chef, this was, by no means, the most extravagant thing that she could make, but it was Dylan’s favorite. Although Bella didn’t cook for just anyone in her personal life, she always considered cooking for Dylan as something special.

  Dylan kissed her hello on the cheek as he usually did, then stopped, took a step back and gave her a wolf-whistle. “Nice jammies,” he said.

  She smiled and waved him off. “What movies did you get?”

  “Something absolutely terrible called Revenge Served Cold and its even worse sequel, amusingly entitled Revenge Served Warm.” He tos
sed the bag from the video store onto the couch and followed her into the kitchen with the bottles of wine. “I saw the first one on cable a few weeks ago. It was so bad I swear it must have been a money-laundering scheme.”

  As Dylan walked behind her he was unable to take his eyes off of Bella. The way the dusky pink silk caressed her sensuous curves was an entirely unexpected, but not at all unwelcome, surprise. He found himself nearly envying the fabric. “Quite possibly the worst movie ever made,” he continued distracted.

  “And you chose to share it with me,” Bella said, turning to take the bottles from him. “I’m so flattered.”

  Dylan managed a smile. “You know there’s no one I’d rather share horrible movies with, gorgeous.”

  She laughed lightly and nodded toward the table. “Food’s almost ready. Do you want to eat first, or watch while we eat?”

  “We should eat first,” he said. “I can’t promise you’d be able to keep anything down if we try to eat during.”

  Dylan admired her as she laughed then turned away to sit. Turning his gaze back toward her, he watched as she glided around the kitchen. Lost in her work, she seemed to ignore him completely.

  Dylan continued to admire her every movement. Her hair was still up from her shift at work, so no matter how she turned he could see her face. As she always did when she cooked she seemed to achieve a sort of transcendental state. He had seen it many times. It was more than just her facial expression, there was something more about her that made her look beautiful. Here was a woman in the simple bliss of living her passion. It made Dylan aroused just thinking about it.

  Dylan thought back to the first time he saw such a look on her face. Their sophomore year of high school she’d taken a Food and Nutrition class and he had once cut gym to see her. It was then that he saw it. Hers was a look of bliss that made him as certain as she was that the only proper career for her was in culinary arts.

  Bella wasn’t a fat girl who would eat anything in sight. She was a curvy woman who loved good food. The only problem with her, as far as he could tell, was she simply had no idea how amazing she was. He’d been telling her for years, but she didn’t believe him. It was like his opinion didn’t matter to her. It drove him crazy. More than once he’d resorted to drastic measures. When that also didn’t work, he had turned it into a game.

  The first time he had been over to Bella’s house was junior year when she had been testing out a dessert recipe for her Advanced Foods class. Things hadn’t been going well in the kitchen. She had gotten frustrated and had turned to him proclaiming that she would just buy whipped cream instead of trying to make it herself.

  “Oh, no you won’t,” he’d told her. “If you cheat, I’ll make you sorry.”

  She had flapped a hand at him dismissively as she passed by him to get her purse. “Sure, sure. What are you going to do, spank me?”

  He took hold of her arm to stop her. “That’s exactly what I’ll do,” he said.

  She had looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “If you think so, go ahead and take another step,” he challenged. Dylan’s initial intent had been more to keep her from compromising her work by giving up when things got difficult. He knew she could do it, and only needed the encouragement to try again. But at the mention of spanking her, the idea had made him unexpectedly excited. He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew it wouldn’t hurt her. But he thought that it might let her know that he was serious about keeping her from giving up on herself.

  Bella held his gaze, bit her lower lip, then, with slow deliberation, took another step forward.

  “I warned you,” Dylan said before drawing his other hand back and delivering a solid whack across her rump.

  Bella gasped as pink flooded her plump face and her eyes widened in her shock. “Dylan!”

  “Now you can either go give it another try, or you can find out just how serious I am about not letting you give up and cheat. What’s it going to be?”

  Dylan had almost hoped she would test him. Instead, she dropped her gaze and turned back, her cheeks still pink as she again picked up her whisk.

  After that moment, his playful acts of punishment had become something they both looked forward to, although neither would admit to the other just how much. More often than not, Bella would deliberately test Dylan. She would saucily turn and half-bent, she would smirk at him over her shoulder, wordlessly daring him. Every time she did, he would oblige, usually with three quick swats across her round ass that would leave her giggling and blushing.

  As time progressed, there were times when it wasn’t so playful. When one of Dylan’s friends asked Bella to the Senior Prom, she was certain she that she had only been asked as a favor to Dylan. She didn’t want to go; she didn’t want to bother shopping for a dress; and most of all, she didn’t want to have to tell Dylan’s friend ‘thanks, but no thanks’.

  When Dylan finally asked her why she was delaying, she had avoided his gaze and muttered, “No one wants to see a fat girl ruin prom, Dylan.”

  Dylan looked back at Bella amazed that she would say that about herself. Both he and his friends had noticed how she had gotten taller, and was no longer the chubby girl from freshman year. It hadn’t been Dylan’s idea for his friend to ask her to prom, but Dylan was certainly looking forward to seeing her dressed up and stealing her for a dance or two. The truth was that his buddy had been talking about asking her to prom for months. If it wasn’t for that, he might have asked her himself just to make sure that she was there.

  “The only way you could ruin it is if you don’t go,” Dylan had told her. “You aren’t fat, Annie.”

  He was the only one who ever called her that. Her nickname came from the musical that they had seen together. She, like the character, too often displayed a fierce optimism as a façade to hide her insecurity and low self-esteem. Like the spanking, it was something that only they shared. It made them feel closer to each other and that was something they both wanted.

  “You have to be nice to me because you’re my friend,” she had continued, still not looking at him. “I know what I look like, and I know I’d look ridiculous in one of those dresses. Forget it.”

  “I think the problem is you don’t know what you look like,” Dylan had countered. “You’re pretty and not everyone thinks a girl needs to be scarecrow-skinny.”

  Bella had finally looked at him. The girl he had been dating, the girl he would certainly be taking to the prom, was one of those “scarecrow-skinny” types, just like all the others he’d dated through high school.

  Although she still, deep down, had those same feelings for him she’d had since freshman year, she rarely let herself think about them anymore. Their friendship had become such a deep and close one, so important to her, that the contradictions between the girls he dated and the way he chastised her for criticizing her own appearance barely even registered. But now she just couldn’t bear the thought of having to see him spending the evening looking so fine with some perfect, petite, perky girl all over him.

  “I’m not going. He can ask some other fat girl.”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he had told her. “You’re gonna buy a dress. You’re gonna look beautiful, have a wonderful time, and later you’re gonna thank me for making you change your mind.”

  “Dylan…”

  “Do I have to put you over my knee?”

  She had sighed and shook her head. It was obvious to her that he didn’t understand. He was gorgeous and fit, and no one had ever looked at him and whispered or giggled the way they did to her. He didn’t know what it was like to look at himself in a mirror and hate what he saw. This wasn’t some playful defiance game to her. This was survival.

  Dylan, who had no concept of any of this, just sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and gestured at his lap. “Come here.”

  “No,” she’d answered half curious if he would actually do it.

  “I said come here.”

  For the
first time, his expression wasn’t playful. He was serious and her heartbeat quickened as she felt her cheeks heating. The intensity of his gaze arrested her, pulling her forward. Finding herself in front of him, she meekly bent forward across his thighs.

  “No one gets to talk about you that way,” he’d said, drawing his hand back. He swatted her sharply and she gasped. “Not even you, Annie. You’re a lovely girl with a pretty face and beautiful curves. You’re funny and smart and too good to be wasting time with most of the guys around here. Now I want you to admit to yourself that’s true.”

  “Dylan,” she had begun, still bent over his lap.

  He swatted her again. “I said admit it.”

  “I admit it,” she had said, eyes closed and feeling the heat in her cheeks spreading through her whole body.

  “Now agree to go to the dance.”

  “I don’t –”

  The third spank was harder. Bella had bit her lip to keep a sound from escaping. It hadn’t exactly hurt. What it had done was stir up quite a storm of confusing feelings within her, especially since unlike the first two times, the third time, he hadn’t pulled his hand away from her rump.

  Bella took a slightly shaky breath, then said softly, “I’ll go to the dance.”

  “Good girl,” Dylan had said. “Do you want me to go dress shopping with you?”

  She had straightened slowly, unable to look at him again, although now it was for entirely different reasons than a few minutes before. “Sure. That would be great. Thanks.”

  As the two now ate dinner, no mention was made of Bella’s new ex, Mark. Similarly, neither mentioned the year that had passed since Dylan had dated anyone. Instead, they enjoyed dinner, which was excellent, and the two talked about their jobs and the upcoming Fantasy Festival they planned to attend.