This is the first of four excerpts I plan to post of my current WIP, The Good Doctor . The complete book is currently running as a series on Bethany’s Woodshed
“Stop! Doctor Watson! My bottom! No!”
With a flailing, nearly nude young aristocrat in his grasp, Doctor John Watson was not inclined to acquiesce to the request for several reasons. First among them was the simple fact that he was not done spanking the young lady. Her bottom was pink, but it would become much, much redder before her lesson was learned.
In spite of his patient’s vigorous struggles, she was not likely to escape before he was done with her. He was tall, with a flashing dark eye and well formed features which spoke to good breeding. His teeth were white and his back was strong and his physique was one equally suited to dancing, combat, swimming or thoroughly thrashing a deserving minx such as the one now putting her hand back to cover her cheeks. It was a futile effort, owing to the delicacy of her hand and the relative girth of her rear. He swatted her hand away, and gave her a very firm slap to discourage any further attempts at avoiding punishment. Keep reading…
Playfully chastising words were growled huskily into the delicate ear of a curvaceous woman on the receiving end of a vigorous erotic strumming, strands of dark hair falling into her panting mouth as she thrust her hips up against the body of her lover, an older woman with intense eyes and agile fingers.
Monica’s rear was painted red with the aftermath of a previous interlude, her cheeks blushing hot as Erin’s fingers plunged inside her time and time again, urging her toward a panting, screaming, hair flailing climax which shook her to her core. Milky breasts heaved as Monica gasped for air, flat on her back, pink nipples rampant as the last quivering tremors passed through her generous abdomen and thighs.
“I need to misbehave more often,” she said, her lips parting in a broad smile.
Erin slid over Monica’s prone body, her taut frame all lithe lines and ripples. “You misbehave quite enough,” she said, lifting her finger to tap Monica’s nose. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
Monica smiled, cat like, her lashes closing slowly over a devilish expression. “Never.”
Erin reached down where Monica’s bent knee left her butt exposed and slapped Monica’s generous rear with a firm hand. “Never?” Keep reading…
Jason knew he was wasting his breath. She wasn’t ready to hear the truth, not yet. She needed a damn good spanking and then a hard session to teach her a lesson. They might not be lovers anymore, hell, she might hate him, but he was her master and she was going to learn that one way or another.
“Finish stripping,” he ordered as he let her go. “Skirt and panties off. Now.”
“I’m getting really tired of hearing that word,” he growled. It was not difficult for him to seem menacing as he loomed over her, his eyes lit with a rage that she could not know did not come from her behavior, but his anger at himself for letting things get so far and go so badly.
“Last warning, Katie.”
She looked him dead in the eye and mimicked his words back at him. “Last warning, Katie,” she sneered mockingly.
For a second, Jason couldn’t quite believe her nerve. He almost laughed from the shock of it, but managed to keep his composure. She was going to pay for that attitude.
He sat down and hauled her half-naked body over his lap. She didn’t resist at first, was too busy being defiant and trying to stare him down over her shoulder. The skirt he flipped up, the panties he hauled down, baring her smart ass to his gaze.
Jason started spanking her bottom without another word. Clearly warnings didn’t work for her, and lecturing was probably going to be wasted on her as well. A sore, hot bottom was going to be much harder to ignore. He swatted her round cheeks hard and fast, making them go from pale pink to bright red inside two minutes.
Katie was trying to pretend that she wasn’t affected by the spanking. As far as pain went, she probably wasn’t. Katie’s pain threshold had always been high, but Jason knew a spanking was far more than the infliction of pain. She might have been able to ignore some of the sting, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was across his lap being punished like a naughty little girl. This wasn’t how respected agents were treated. This was how impudent little brats were treated, and seeing that’s how she had behaved, the punishment certainly fit.
Dozens upon dozens of slaps landed on her cheeks before she started to let out little gasps of discomfort. The heat was building and her skin was going to stay tender for quite some time, but that alone wasn’t enough. Jason wanted to reinforce her juvenile helplessness. He did so by making sure that his palm never strayed near her pussy. Each slap landed in the middle of her cheeks where it would not directly stimulate her and allow her to become distracted.
“Bad little girl,” he chastised her. “Mouthing off like that, how does your bottom feel now, Katie? Do you feel like being a brat now?”
He followed the question with a barrage of swats to the very center of her cheeks. “I’m waiting for an answer,” he informed her. “The spanking doesn’t stop until you say you’re sorry, young lady.”
“I’m not sorry!” Katie spat the words, still so defiant. Jason let out a sigh and turned his attentions from her bottom to her upper thighs, swatting the back of her legs. That made Katie squeal and buck immediately, cursing like a sailor.
“The spanking ends when you behave yourself and apologize,” he informed her, going between her bottom and her thighs, painting her skin bright red with each hard swat. This was an important battle of wills, one he absolutely intended to win.
Katie must have sensed that. Her squirming was becoming more urgent, and the bright red hue of her bottom and thighs spoke to an intense burn that he knew would not be comfortable.
“Tell me you’re sorry, Katie,” he said in encouraging tones even as his palm landed harder and faster, taking the spanking to a crescendo that made her bottom jiggle and her toes kick against the floor. Keep reading…
Introducing… Ginger Darcy and a new book The Doctor’s Captive, a hot and gritty story in which a young undercover agent pits her will against a shadowy rogue who goes by the moniker ‘The Doctor’ and soon finds herself at the mercy of his dominance and discipline as he takes her captive and proceeds to show her the truth about the organization she works for and her own forgotten past through a series of hot, hard and very erotic medical sessions designed to break the mental conditioning she has been subjected to without her knowledge.
I’ve chosen to write under this new pen name because I want to explore deeper dynamics of dominance and submission and more edgy stories with even more dominant alpha heroes. Ginger Darcy books pull out all the stops. Though there is love and romance and tenderness, these ones push the limits a whole lot harder than most Loki Renard books ever have. So if rough sexual content offends, distresses, or disinterests you, you may want to stick with traditional Loki Renard material.
Here’s an extended sample to give you a taste of what you’re in for with this book:
Katie hunkered down into the leaf litter and started her observation. Through binoculars that detected heat signatures, the cabin appeared to be entirely empty. She watched it for a good hour before deciding to make an entrance through the front door. Other agents might have chosen the window, but Katie knew the window was far more likely to be booby-trapped than the door. Only intruders made their way through windows.
She ran toward the cabin in a crouch, and upon reaching the front door, stayed back behind the wall as she tested the handle. It was not locked. It turned almost silently and the door swung open without a sound to reveal a very simply furnished interior. Stove. Table. Two wooden chairs. One armchair. A fireplace. A bed. No occupants.
She sidled in and shut the front door behind her, sweeping the room carefully as she made her way to the door in the rear. It opened to reveal a bathroom. Shower. Toilet. There was electricity in the place, provided by an exterior generator. All in all, it was fairly cozy.
Knowing her time was limited, Katie got to work. First things first, a camera. Once she had that in place she could sit half a mile away and monitor her target’s movements when he returned. That would let her know when to strike. She decided to put it underneath a chair, facing the bed. It was a good position for observing most of the room, and judging by the dust accumulated around the leg of the chair, it wasn’t often moved.
She crouched down and began the relatively quick process of installing the camera. She did not hear any sounds in the cabin. Certainly didn’t hear the door open, or the soft footsteps of the man approaching her. She did, however, feel the cold press of a blade against the back of her neck, poised with surgical perfection between the C4 and C5 vertebrae.
“Hello, Katie.” The voice was calm and congenial. There was no need for verbal threat when the blade at her neck did all the talking.
If he’d wanted to stab her, he could have done that at the outset. The knife was designed to make her freeze, but freezing was the worst thing she could have done. The second worst thing, actually. The worst thing she could have done, she’d already done—which was be caught by her prey. Katie kicked back hard, aiming for the kneecap. She made contact with thin air as the Doctor moved to avoid her kick, but her motion bought her around to face the most wanted man in the underworld.
There he was—Jason Blake, aka the Doctor—looking at her with a dark smirk on his handsome face. He looked just like his picture, albeit with a bit more rough stubble about his jawline. The eyes were always the best methods of identification, and his were locked on her with emerald intensity. It was him alright, though he was taller than she’d expected him to be. And wider too. Or maybe she was smaller than she thought she was. Either way, she had the uncomfortable sensation of being thoroughly dwarfed by the man.
“You’re late,” he drawled, his voice somehow unsettlingly familiar. She didn’t know how he knew her name, but she guessed he must have weaseled it out of some other agent, or one of his contacts. She had no intention of letting him know she was intimidated by him, or letting herself be distracted by his odd comments.
Deciding to shoot first and ask questions later, Katie drew her pistol. Before she had it out from under her sweater, he threw the knife with a hard flick of his fingers. It struck the hilt of her weapon and the pistol went spinning from her hand, leaving her with a pink graze on her middle finger. The casual, surgical precision with which he wielded his weapon was chilling, but Katie wasn’t done yet. Keep reading…
Sarah doesn’t want to get up early and walk her dog, but Sergeant Austin Black isn’t having any of her attempts to avoid a good dose of discipline…
“Are you sulking?” He asked the question mildly as she joined him, very much pouting.
“No,” Sarah scowled. “But this is stupid.”
“You need discipline,” he reminded her. “Without it, you end up in a heap. So why don’t you try relaxing and letting me give you what you need instead of fighting me every step of the way? I’m used to stubborn little beasts. Don’t think you’re going to wear me out.”
Sarah hid behind her coffee mug as much as that was humanly possible.
“I can’t wake up this early,” she muttered. “This is not a time for people to be awake. Even Nunu isn’t up yet.”
She was right. Nunu remained wrapped up in his blankets on the couch, stoically asleep.
“Nunu!” Austin called his name. Nunu did not stir.
“He puts himself to bed every night at eleven and doesn’t get up until nine,” Sarah said. “He has a routine.”
“He’s the only one in this house who does,” Austin said. “He’ll get up when he realizes there’s something in it for him.”
“And what’s in it for me?”
“Not having your butt warmed before the walk, though that’s becoming a lot less likely every minute you spend not eating breakfast.” He looked at his watch. “If we’re not out of here in ten minutes, I’m going to spank you.”
“Spank me now,” Sarah said. “Then I can at least go back to bed.”
Austin cleared a place on the table and pointed to it. “Bend over.”
“Fine,” Sarah shrugged. “I don’t care.”
She bent over, lifting her bottom high with gleeful defiance. “Spank me.”
“Oh, I’ll spank you,” he said, pushing her nightshirt up over her hips. “We’ll see how eager you are once I’m done with you.”
Sarah held position and waited for his palm to fall. It didn’t. She heard him messing around in the kitchen, but she couldn’t see what he was doing. It became clear fairly quickly when he returned to her side, put his palm on her lower back and smacked her hard with something much smaller and harder than his hand.
“What the hell is that?”
“It’s a wooden spoon,” he said. “Very effective on spoiled brats who don’t think that a spanking is a big deal.” He brought the spoon down again several more times, whacking her hard and fast. Each swat burst across her bottom with a sting that seemed far greater than such a relatively small implement could be expected to have. An ache followed, quickly replaced by another sting when he brought the spoon down yet again.
Sarah tried to stand up, but Austin held her firmly in place, spanking her through increasingly vociferous complaints.
Followed by Austin and Nunu, Sarah pushed her front door open, climbed over the vacuum cleaner, tip toed around a couple of trash bags which hadn’t quite made it outside, dodged some discarded pantyhose then tripped over several discarded wine bottles and ultimately landed on her large orange puffy couch, giggling amid squishy pink pillows.
“Sorry,” she said. “I haven’t cleaned up from last night yet.”
Nunu barked and jumped on top of her, putting his paws on her head and wagging his entire rear. He seemed to have already forgotten that he’d put his teeth on her.
Austin looked around the house with a perplexed expression. “This explains quite a lot.”
“It’s usually tidier than this,” she reassured him. It wasn’t entirely true, but he was looking rather concerned. His brow had furrowed and his mouth was set in a firm, hard line. One would have thought he had walked into a heinous crime scene, not a perfectly normal home.
“So what do I need to do?” Sarah turned over to lay on her back. Nunu climbed on her chest and licked her face. “Do I need to show him that I’m the alpha?”
“Dominance theory has been more or less disproved in domestic canines,” Austin said. “But it holds surprisingly true for people.”
Artist Sarah Digby has always been a free spirit. Maybe the parties she throws get a little too loud and run a little too late, and maybe her little dog has become something of an unholy terror in the neighborhood, but that certainly doesn’t give anybody the right to march into her house and scold her like a naughty child.
But Sarah’s neighbor Austin Black isn’t just anybody, he is a Marine Corps sergeant used to giving orders and having them obeyed. When he finally has enough of her bratty behavior and sassy attitude and takes matters into his own hands, she soon finds herself bare-bottomed over his firm thighs, receiving the first spanking of her life. Afterwards, Austin informs Sarah that from now on he’ll be keeping her in line personally.
In spite of everything, Austin’s dominance leaves Sarah longing for more, and as her submission grows deeper she is surprised to notice that her art begins to flourish like never before. But when Austin makes it clear that he wants her not only as his lover but also as his pet—a pet he will cherish and care for but also train and punish when needed—Sarah is unsure if she is ready to belong to him so completely. Can a girl like her truly surrender her heart to a man who will expect her to kneel at his feet and come when she is called?