The Miscreant and the Master

One of Loki’s earliest works, the Miscreant and the Master has proved popular amongst fans of alternative Asian fantasy settings. That is to say, it’s a martial arts spanking story. I know. Why didn’t someone think of this before? If they did, Loki didn’t notice it. The Miscreant and the Master brings together all the fun of a reluctant young lady learning to kick ass whilst quite often getting her own ass spanked.

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Nocturne

In this tale, Loki swerves wildly off the tried and true formula for spanking romance and goes ahead and adds a touch of mild horror to the entire situation. If you’re tired of people getting spanked without the threat of slathering daemons from another dimension consuming their immortal souls, then Nocturne is the spanking e-book you’ve been waiting for.

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To Tame A Thief

To Tame a Thief is a slightly more traditional spanking tale, if by traditional spanking tale you’re talking about a modern setting in which a dominant male meets a bratty female who then spends the entire novel trying to steal his business out from under him. Ah, true romance.

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The Taming of Miss Munroe

Steampunk Victorian spanking romance (it’s actually not steampunk at all, but I like the image of leather and brass that word evokes.) This is actually a Sherlock Holmes inspired tale, not in the sense that pygmies from Melanisia murder anyone, but in the sense that the tale is narrated by the slightly portly gentleman friend of Walker, Master of Discipline as he attempts to subdue Miss Munroe to the meek and the good

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Though I haven’t posted any new free stories on Trouble Books in a while, do not despair good spankos, there is good free spanking fiction to be had! It’s been a bit of an F/F party lately over on Sappho’s Brats, where we set about proving that women are just as scary (if not more so) than men when it comes to doling out good sound spankings.

With a little cackle of glee, Chase leveled the scope of her sniper rifle at the back of the pedestrian’s head. Although the ground around her was littered with dismembered bodies and the walls were caked with the blood of innocents, the young woman seemed completely unaware of the imminent danger as she continued her ambling gait down the street in a skirt so short it barely descended to her upper thighs.

“Clueless, utterly clueless,” Chase muttered from her position on the 10th floor, as she prepared to squeeze the trigger.

Creaky-creak went the office door. Alt-Tab, went Chase, bringing up a glowing spreadsheet filled with complex numbers that hurt her brain. Gordon poked his head around the door. “Are those numbers ready yet?”

“Not quite yet, Mr Black,” Chase replied primly. It was no wonder they were not ready yet. 6 hours after loading Grievous Bodily Harm: Freedom City onto her work machine, Chase’s productivity had never been lower.

Gordon, a middle aged, slightly balding man with a new baby at home that was making him tense and irritable during the day, frowned. “They were due in yesterday.”

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So there this guy, Dave, you know and he has this interblogweb called The Cherry Red Report, and he totally doesn’t get enough credit for his wicked and indeed, thoroughly gangsta image editing skills. So go to his blag and immerse yourself in all the hot girl ass you’re going to find there.

But wait, there’s more! Dave stumbled across one of my latest contributions to the world of spanking (mostly because I sent it to him, all coy like,) and he made this little comic himself. If it doesn’t make you want to go check out Retro Naughtiness, then there is definitely something wrong with you. See a doctor.

Exciting and grand news everybody! Finn the Devourer, my latest spanking novella, is now available from Spanking Romance. Spanking Romance is a subscription site run by Blushing Publications that publishes a new completed romantic spanking novella every week. For just $12.95 a month, you get 52 new spanking novellas every year. Thus far I’ve published three such novellas with Spanking Romance, including Corporate Mischief and A Governess Named Trouble. In a stroke of good fortune and spanking awesomeness for all, you’ll find that if you’re a member of Spanking Romance,  at least 6 of those new spanking novellas you get every year will be from yours truly.

Pale as the moon and pretty as a dark imp, Finn is a typical, albeit mischievous, vampire. Left as a foundling outside the House of Lidran, she is tolerated by the long-suffering elders who regard her as something of an oddity. After all, what kind of vampire has violet eyes, prefers hamburgers to human blood, needs to sleep at least eight hours a day and doesn’t remember how she came to be a vampire at all?

But Finn isn’t just an oddity, Finn is a vampire with a destiny, a destiny which is unexpectedly unleashed when Monsieur Leonard Chevalier, the devilishly handsome Deux Demain of the oldest and most powerful coven in Europe, pays a visit to his colonial cousins.

Will the truth of Finn’s existence destroy her and all she holds dear? Or will Leonard Chevalier find a way to contain her before it is too late?

Click HERE to sample Chapter One

If one attempts to take on all bratting activities by oneself, one soon becomes tired, both of the effort required in bratting, and of the effort involved in running away afterward. No matter how closely one follows Rule #1, there are limits. Therefore, the advanced brat should incite brattiness in others. In this fashion one is able to reap the rewards of fun that come with chaos, but one cannot be directly held responsible for them. Remember, punishment shared, is punishment halved.

Rule #3. INCITE REBELLION

Many of the apparently ordinary people around you are incredibly bored. Yes, yes they are. And though it might look like they’re working really hard to get that TPS report in before the deadline, and though they may appear to care about the state of their careers, trust me when I say that they would much rather spend their remaining hours of work using multi-colored post it notes to transform your boss’s car into a fabulous fantasy mobile.

Of course, one should always take care to incite a little low level rebellion, and not a riot, or even a revolution. All Che Guevara wanted was a giggle one Wednesday afternoon at the office, but he took it too far and look where that got him. You want to achieve a little levity about the place, not end up with your face on t-shirts belonging to people who can’t even spell your name.

This rule 100% countermands the first rule, which is a sure sign that these rules are proper rules as might be found in the real world. If I carve them into stone tablets and we wait long enough, some dude with a beard will come along and then I’ll be expected to provide afterlife accommodation to 6 billion souls.

Remind you of another tale you might have heard once or twice before? Unlike the world’s most favorite brat however, a fellow who spent a great deal of his time annoying people and then running away, you should never allow yourself to be nailed to a tree. If some guys in shiny clothes approach you and ask you to carry a bloody great wooden cross, invoke Rule #1 immediately.

But this isn’t about Rule #1, this is about Rule #2.

Rule#2. GET CAUGHT

You will eventually. Which is a good thing. Brats that never get caught turn into Dick Cheney. And unless you actually want to evolve from adorable brat to evil destroyer of all that is good, you will want to be caught every now and again. In fact, it is so important for you to get caught that if you discover your skills of brattery and evasion far outweigh your local Tops’ (plural people, always look for the plural) ability to catch you, you may have to dumb it down a bit.

‘What, dumb it down for a Top’, you say? ‘I don’t know if I can act that dumb without putting on a bicycle helmet and slamming my head against a wall repeatedly.’ And to you I say, the end justifies the means. Unless, of course, it doesn’t. Also, if you put on a helmet and slam your head against a wall just because I instituted some fantasy scenario in which you might say that, then there is a distinct possibility you are overrating your native intellect. Just a thought.

ZOMBIELAND

When you spend your existence being contrary and occasionally even  troublesome, life can be challenging. Though many brats emerge from the hormone filled paddling pool that is adolescence, sadly, only one in ten brats survives to late adulthood. Many fall by the wayside and are absorbed into mainstream society, where they spend their days doing sums and licking the wallpaper. Is that the sort of future you want for yourself? No? Then you need this guide. It has rules in it, rules you will of course, break immediately.

However unlike other rules, pointless, silly rules set by people in positions of authority, rules like ‘It’s not okay to re-direct the neighbor’s mail because they keep having loud parties,’ and ‘Fairy costumes are not appropriate attire for casual Fridays’, these rules are ones that will save your ass, so you break them at your own peril.

Rule # 1 when it comes to surviving as a brat is the same Rule #1 you’ll need for inevitable zombie invasions.

Rule #1. CARDIO

A brat that can’t escape a 200 lb Top at full speed is a brat that risks losing brat status. Why? Because even the most resilient brat is in danger of becoming good if they are spanked often and hard enough. It is a brat’s main mandate to avoid spankings at all costs, no matter how much they may be deserved, and no matter how far you may have gone out of your way to earn one.

Cardio is the only tool that will definitely get your ass out of trouble. That and a few aliases you can live under whilst the heat dies down. Build up your cardio by engaging in at least 40 minutes of vigorous physical exercise every day. This can include doing housework, walking the dog, and stockpiling nuclear weapons.

If you accidentally get mixed up in some BDSM, cardio may be the only thing that saves your ass. You’re a brat, not a submissive, and you don’t play like one. You don’t get pleasure from service, you get pleasure from getting away with things.  This puts you fundamentally at odds from the bulk of leather clad kinksters who find you mouthy, irritating and may even accuse you of being ‘not a real sub.’ Damn straight. (Seriously, watch out for them, they’ll pee on you if they get the chance. With real pee.)

(They may not pee on you. Maybe they’ll give you a cup of tea and some candy, what do I know? I know that I’ve never been to a BDSM club where anyone got a cup of tea, that’s what I know. Mhm. Voice of experience here.)

Remember. CARDIO.

Surprise book! Surprise! I wrote an ebook when nobody was expecting it. Like a ninja. Except with words. ‘Nocturne’ is a new dark spanking romance from yours truly. Yes, it is M/F (man spanks woman), or rather it is V/F (vampire spanks woman), but I don’t think any of us should let that get in our way. Gender is just a chromosomal construct created by a misogynistic and misandrist Universe. Screw that universe.

Anyway, I think you’ll enjoy this. I sure enjoyed penning it with my keyboard.

“Yea, though I have made my home in the valley of the dead, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy cup of tea and orange crème bikkie succor me,” I murmured to myself giddily as I began the 11th hour of an 8 hour shift.

I wasn’t complaining, work was quiet, cool, sterile. Absent of the living, just the way I liked it.

Finishing up the remainder of my biscuits, I washed my hands, stretched on a fresh pair of opalescent thick green rubber gloves and made my way down the rows of silent bodies shrouded in white hospital linens. My rubber soled shoes muted the sound of my steps, denying the large metal cavern the echo it craved.

Some people think that mortuaries are creepy, but they’re really no more creepy than your average garden patch and I’m no different from any avid boatanist. It’s just that instead of petunias and cabbage, I examine carbon shells as they slowly return to the stuff from which they came.

“Got another one for you, Wednesday,” the intercom on the wall crackled into life, disturbing the silence.

“Ready,” I replied briskly, pressing the little red button. I was always ready for the dead.

I heard the elevator open in the distance, and then the familiar click, clack, crunch of the gurney making its way towards me. One wheel was perpetually stuck, but nobody seemed inclined to fix it. It wasn’t anybody’s job to do so. In a small city hospital, nothing gets done unless it’s somebody’s job. I counted myself lucky that squeaky gurney wheels were about the sum total of my troubles.

It took a moment or two for the orderly, a staunch fellow who never seemed quite at ease down here in the bowels of the hospital, to arrive with the gurney.

“DOA. Jane Doe, cause of death unknown,” he said, his eyes fastened on my face, not because I’m particularly beautiful, but because focusing on the living helps people ignore death, even when it is quite literally being pushed before them just a few inches under their noses.

From the cradle to the grave we walk a tight rope above the abyss, most of us too scared to gaze into the perpetual void that accompanies us every hour. I was not afraid of death anymore, merely curious. Steve, on the other hand, still had his eyes tightly shut to his own mortality.

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