Prior to the release of the final book in the BIRCHWOOD HALL TRILOGY of domestic discipline romances I’ve commissioned a cover makeover.
Here’s the originals:
And here are the new ones:
Three rip-roaring love stories filled with angst and turmoil but along with the conflict comes a little pain and kink in the form of cane wielding dominant men and a domestic discipline theme that’ll make you want to pull out and dust off that riding crop or leather tawse from the bottom draw of your dresser.
‘You’ve been away from me for far too long, young lady. I think what you need is one of Nanny’s spankings.’
‘I’m sorry, Nanny,’ Scarlett finally relented at the threat of corporal punishment.
‘Come here, girl.’ Nanny Jones sat down on a straight backed chair with her knees pressed tightly together and her back as straight as a rod. ‘A spanking will make you feel better.’
Scarlett lowered her gaze to the grey flecked carpet and edged towards her. Nanny was right – a spanking always made her feel better. It was like opening the valve on top of a bubbling pressure cooker. Once it was over and the pain of the punishment had finally dissipated she was always left with a rosy bottom and a feeling of relief.
Scarlett eased herself down over the woman’s lap and the familiar scent of her lavender perfume filled her nostrils. She put her hands on the carpet to steady herself. She was too big to be doing stuff like this. She felt her face flush with embarrassment but she didn’t get up.
Nanny Jones pulled up her dress and yanked her panties down until she revealed the orbs of her bottom.
‘Good girl. Good girl.’ Her hands were warm as she stroked her buttocks; her voice strangely soothing.
‘You need this to keep you focussed.’ As she spoke Nanny brought the solid, flat backed hairbrush down on Scarlett’s bare buttocks with force. Scarlett flinched and her legs shot out involuntarily as the crack echoed around the room. The hairbrush never lost its sting no matter how many times she endured it, it always made her flinch.
Nanny struck again and again until the echoes joined together, bouncing off the walls as she reddened both cheeks until Scarlett started fidgeting in an attempt to relieve the burning hot sting of each new strike on her tenderised flesh.
Finally Nanny stopped and Scarlett got to her feet and pulled up her panties.
‘Put the brush back for me, dear,’ Nanny looked flushed – as if she’d run up the stairs and back down again twice. Scarlett was embarrassed by her need but already feeling absolved.
She placed the brush back on the woman’s dresser and looked at her things neatly arranged on its surface, remembering a time when she’d barely been able to reach up to return the weapon to its resting place let alone stare at her personal possessions.
‘That feels better, doesn’t it, dear?’ Nanny was behind her, rubbing at her hot backside with her firm hands. ‘Now, run along and put your lovely new clothes in the wardrobe and I’ll dish up lunch.
Scarlett walked blindly out of Nanny Jones’ bedroom and down the hall to her own. She felt better – she really did – but she also felt ashamed of herself for allowing this woman to punish her. She wasn’t a child anymore. It should be her father doing it. It should always have been her father but he didn’t care about her anymore. He delegated – that’s what her father did – he delegated his responsibilities as a father to the paid help.