Greg. I’d tried so hard to forget him, but, in this new environment, I could hear his voice.
Let it go, Indi. You’d be more fun if you weren’t uptight. Be loose, like me. It’s less stress.
I stiffened and pulled away from her touch, but she held on. “Who is it? Greg?”
I’d mentioned him in a thoughtless moment, when she’d tipped me over her knee and spanked while standing ankle-deep in the moonlit water.
Could she read minds? I didn’t want to think of Greg now. I’d flown halfway around the world, but he still filled my thoughts. I wanted his morning stubble against my cheek, his biceps curling around my shoulder. “No,” I lied. But she knew the truth, and I turned away.
Broken-hearted when her live-in boyfriend impregnates her best frenemy, Indigo Adams accepts a one-way ticket to Seoul, South Korea, and a challenge from her Great-Aunt Matilda: Forget that boy. Go and make something of yourself.
Bruised from an international public relations nightmare as the new heir to the multi-billion-dollar Han Incorporated, Hyunkyung Han seeks positive publicity in the form of a wedding. She consults with Madame Eve to find a nice, well-behaved Korean American with bilingual and bicultural skills.
Instead, Madame Eve sends Indi, a naïve philosophy major graduate working for minimum wage at the local pub. Enraged to find Indi can’t speak one word of Korean, Hyunkyung orders her sent home on the next plane to Spillville, Iowa.
Then Hyunkyung shakes Indi’s hand, and the sparks fly. With all of her professional responsibilities, how can Hyunkyung allow herself to fall for the wrong woman? How can Indi feel attraction for a woman who despises her?
Seoul Spankings offers a light-hearted romp through the perils and joys of navigating an intercultural romance. Certain to delight all fans of a happily ever after with a kinky twist.
You’ve met (and feared) the Mistress. You’ve adored Ana. You’ve pre-ordered Living in Sin.
Now it’s time to meet Seoul Spankings!
So. I believe in lighting candles rather than cursing the darkness. In my dismay at the new laws allowing people to refuse service based on religious beliefs (which, as far as I can tell, do not exempt emergency service providers such as EMTs or firefighters), I felt dispirited. Disappointed. Sad for what this might mean for the future of our society.
I could complain about the laws, or I could do something instead. I may not have the legal or political clout to do something that way, but I’m a writer. I enjoy humor. So…in response to this law, I have founded a Church of the Wooden Spoon. I created it as a joke and added two people because Facebook doesn’t allow a group without members.
Within a few hours, the requests for membership starting coming in! So far, we are thirty-eight members strong and still growing. Find us on Facebook and ask to join! The first New Member Class will conclude at the end of today.
What? I’m not any crazier than the people passing these laws. 😀
So far, we have a few rules:
Rules of the Church of the Wooden Spoon (will be updated as necessary):
2. We are not celibate.
3. Traditional theology dictates that the edges of the wooden spoon must be rounded. However, a special task force is preparing a study on whether angled spoons (formerly known as spatulas and therefore heretics) may be accepted.
4. Wooden Spoon means WOODEN SPOON. No metal spoons, no spatulas, no silicone!
5. It is our sincere religious belief that the Wooden Spoon forbids us to have any business dealings with homophobes. Therefore, as a protected class under US law, we may refuse to serve homophobes in our daily lives.
We even have two prayers. One was composed in Latin by Emily Tilton:
O coclear fidele, tuum auxilium devote rogamus hodie, ut nates illorum qui flagellationem desiderent!
You’ll have to ask Emily what it means. 🙂
The prayer I composed is in English:
O Magnificent Spoon of Wonder
We give thanks to you and strive to honor you
Guide us and protect us, O Spoon,
That we may live in the glory of your ways.
Please don’t ask about the angled spoon debacle. We’re all reeling from the internal conflict. What? You insist on knowing? Okay, okay. Here is the public statement:
It is NOT true that the Church of the Wooden Spoon has splintered into a protest church, the Church of the Wooden Spatula. We at the Church of the Wooden Spoon are working hard to reach out to these lost sheep and bring them back into the fold.
I have commissioned a task force to prepare a statement on the Church of the Wooden Spoon’s position on the shape of the wooden spoon and whether angled edges will be accepted as orthodox.
Please, in times of founding a new church it is easy to get lost in divisive rhetoric. Let’s not get distracted by the little details and instead focus on the glory that is the Wooden Spoon.
We are a new church, and this was an enormous blow. The less said, the better. Even worse, we’re getting reports of publicly expressing love for riding crops, getting seduced by a traveling salesman to love an angled wooden spoon, and *gasp* attending the church of the SILICONE spoon!
The Holy Mistress is not pleased.
If you want to win a wooden spoon of your own, plus an autographed set of cooking chopsticks, visit Jessica Subject’s blog for a post on Hyunkyung Han’s Top 5 Favorite Spanking Implements!
Mira, from Desire in Any Language, has found new love in the stunning and brilliant diplomat, Hana Takahashi. Mira adores her, even when Hana gives her provoking calls in public. Equal parts exasperated and turned on, Mira continues to reflect on the changes Hana has brought into Mira’s life.
I never thought I would be the sort of person to say dirty things in supermarkets or proclaim my love in front of strangers. I think of myself as shy, unassuming, or even ordinary. But life with Hana has taught me even the most ordinary of events can become extraordinary. She makes me – in some ways when I’d rather not – find excitement in the everyday. With her, every day is a discovery; each meeting is an occasion.
“Why didn’t you get more apples?” Hana asks when I return home. Or, rather, to her home, the home from which we will begin our travels tonight. It’s hard to believe we will take our first trip together.
Mira’s Miracle is now available from Blushing Books! It’s not yet on Amazon, but it should be very soon. I hope you enjoyed your sneak peek. 🙂 By the way, it’s not too late to enter the two-part contest to win your very own vial of cinnamon oil. Why would you want cinnamon oil? Read Mira’s Miracle to find out!
Mira’s Miracle (with Maren Smith)
Whisked away to the fairytale Castle for a dream vacation, Mira confronts her darkest fears.
Vacationing at Master Marshall’s world-renowned Castle should have spelled Fantasy Land, but for Mira the trip means paying a debt. She promised to work hard at her translator’s certificate course while her advisor went on maternity leave, but distraction arrives in the form of her first love. Diplomat Hana Takahashi, from Desire in Any Language, captures Mira’s total attention. Between Hana’s stringent embassy security and Mira’s draconian school dormitory curfew, their stolen kisses drive Mira wild with desire. Hana makes a bet with Mira: keep up with her schoolwork or take a trip of Hana’s choice, according to Hana’s rules. No veto power.
When Mira presents her inadequate end-of-term report, Hana books a dream vacation—of Hana’s dreams. Safe within the Castle, the elaborate role playing kink haven, Hana turns Mira into her little girl. Complete with a private nurse, playroom with its nanny in charge, and a schoolroom filled with naughty pupils and a stern teacher, the Castle’s ageplay wing reduces Mira to a child from the moment of her arrival. Hana’s word is law, and all of the Castle employees carry out her orders for Mira.
However, Mira’s natural resistance leads to tantrums, defiance, and spankings from every adult who assists with her care. When she encounters a tutor who triggers her deepest fears, she must face her residual trauma over the duplicitous “Mistress Susan.” Is Mira ready for the maternal nurturing offered by Hana, or will her unhealed wounds drive everyone away? Can she become Hana’s little girl, or will she safeword out of the Castle to return to everyday life…without Hana? Will there be a miracle for Mira?
Warning: contains ageplay, mouth-soaping, spankings, and sex scenes
My newest release, Mira’s Miracle, follows the adventures of Mira from Desire in Any Language. This week, I’ll let the sentences speak for themselves. 🙂
“Mira-chan,” she purrs into the small electronic earpiece for my cell phone, “tell me the color of your panties.”
The luscious red apple splurts juice as my fingernails dig into the flesh. “I’m at the supermarket!” A bent-over curly-haired woman hobbles by with a baby bundled on her back, and a loudspeaker blares with some harried employee’s voice extolling the virtues of some limited time offer promotion. Buy one get one free, or fifty percent off, or a special sample, or a cooking demonstration. I shuffle in between stacks of food. When I came to South Korea last year to enroll in a translator certification course, I knew many things would be different from my native United States. I expected the language and cultural differences, but I didn’t expect the rest.
Today’s offering comes from Simple Gifts, the prequel to “Complicated Gifts” in Love’s Reprise (links and blurbs below). Carene Moraghan and Leila Feran, childhood bunkmates from yearly summer music camp, have remained best friends even as their paths diverged–Carene to teach junior high orchestra in a small town, Leila to head the prestigious, world-renowned Philharmonic Symphony as concertmaster and principal first violinist. They keep in touch with letters, phone calls, and visits…at least until workaholic Leila cripples her wrist with her long hours of practice and performance. Confined to a splint and unable to work or even perform basic daily tasks, she moves in with Carene during her recovery period.
Never one to shirk from duty, Carene cares for Leila and enforces her one house rule: No divas allowed. None of the posturing that comes along with being a famous musician. No spoiled tantrums when she can’t get her own way. It takes more than one spanking to convince Leila that Carene means business, but finally Leila submits. In a symbolic gesture of her submission, Leila brings her beloved Stradivarius violin to Carene and asks her to prepare the instrument for use.
“Do it for me.”
No one except luthiers had touched Leila’s instrument before. The flamed reddish-brown glaze, the delicate wood, and the craftsmanship that had cost more than Carene’s down payment for her house were all Leila’s sacred territory. Wordlessly, Carene picked up the violin, careful not to soil the priceless finish with the oil from her fingers, and hooked the soft rubber gripper feet of the shoulder rest to the body of the violin. She tilted the shoulder pad. Next she set the violin back in its open case and took out Leila’s favorite bow, twisted the screw at the end to tighten the hair, and held the cake of dark green-black rosin in her hand. She unfastened the protective cloth around the rosin and slid cake up and down the fine white horsehair. She laid the prepared bow next to the violin, her eyes never having left Leila’s face.
Music. Without the love of her life, how can Leila learn to live again?
Professional violinist Leila Feran is accustomed to fame as the youngest and first female concertmaster of the Philharmonic Symphony. Driven to achieve ever-increasing heights, she injures her wrist so badly that she may no longer be able to play. While she recovers, she moves in with her childhood best friend, a pianist and beloved orchestra teacher in a small town.
Carene welcomes Leila with open arms and only one condition: no divas allowed. And if Leila can’t follow the house rules, she might find herself over Carene’s knee…or worse. In between arguments over physical therapy and house rules, Carene’s zero-tolerance policy regarding divas results in some old-fashioned discipline that changes into something more.
Will Leila and Carene’s new feelings for each other blossom into something wonderful? Or will Leila lose not just a friend, but her potential soul mate?
“Complicated Gifts” (short story sequel to Simple Gifts)
In this short story follow-up to Simple Gifts, Leila has recovered from surgery but faces a new dilemma: Go home to her symphony or stay with her love, Carene? She assumes Carene will jump at the chance to move to the big city, but Carene is surrounded by the small-town community that has nurtured her since her college graduation. Tempers fly and feelings get hurt on both sides until they each face their worst fears.
Does love mean getting your own way? Or does love mean making sacrifices for another? Carene and Leila must choose.
The team of Alta Hensley, Cara Bristol, Jade Cary, Celeste Jones, Sue Lyndon, Renee Rose, and I brought to you Coming to Terms earlier this year. Next year, we’ll bring you a sequel titled Milestones. In my short story, you’ll get to see Karielle and Soris (from Becoming Clissine) before they became a couple. Studious Soris and temper pot Karielle can’t stand each other, but tradition and duty force them to marry and live with each other. In order to perform her duty as Dis (disciplinarian) of the household, Soris must chastise Karielle in order to bring her to rightness with Basti, their deity. Can a loving relationship be formed through pain, or will they remain locked in a loveless marriage?
One powerful muscled leg poised to run, Karielle watched her new Dis lift her hands in supplication to their statue of Basti. The bamboo rod glistened in the reflected light of the cleansing pool, and Karielle shivered underneath the thin scarlet penitent’s robe. Droplets of the holy water fell into the pool, and she held her arms close to her chest.
“Forgive me, Basti, for I have sinned and am unworthy,” she recited. She refused to believe the words she spoke, but her recent promise had been made to the entire Assembly in front of her parents. And Basti. “Punish me,” she whispered, laying her trim athlete’s body across the unforgiving wood of the disciplinary stand.
Soris, Dis of the House of Sor, raised her rod of correction to enforce the primary rule she had been taught since birth: True rightness with Basti must be purchased through tears of repentance and pain.
Penelope Hasler, the brave spanked heroine of last week’s snippet, returns this week in the form of Miss Hasler, a strict but fair teacher who expects order. Naughty Natasha Knight does not take Miss Hasler seriously, much to her chagrin. Miss Hasler does not appreciate sass.
“Hold still, girl!” Miss Hasler ordered, applying the plimsoll with–it must be admitted–enthusiasm to the delicate blue silk knickers squirming across her lap.
“How’m I supposed to hold still when–owwww!” Natasha’s arms and legs flailed each time the rubber sole made contact. “Of all the ridiculous reasons for–OW! Stop it!”
“I’ll give the orders, insolent minx!” Miss Hasler shook out her weary hand and adjusted her grip on the well-worn implement before laying several additional hearty swats. While nothing satisfied her as much as taking this cheeky miss down a peg or two, Natasha’s lack of discipline made the affair more tiring than usual. “Now, march yourself into the corner and be thankful I didn’t take out my cane.”
Natasha’s chin came up, but another crack of the gym shoe sent her scurrying to the wall, both hands cupped protectively around her swollen bottom cheeks that sported angry red lines from the imprint of Miss Hasler’s weapon.
“In future, you would do best not to call your teacher a dork.”
“Even if it’s true?”
Oh, dear! The very naughty Natasha! What do you think happens next?
This week’s snippet is in honor of Penelope Hasler, a dear friend who always brightens my day. She loves a good role play and age play, and our mutual friend Tara Finnegan has volunteered to give Little Miss Penny a good spanking. Out of respect for Headmistress Blake’s eight-sentence limit, this snippet begins immediately after the spanking. I know! I’m sorry, but I don’t want to run afoul of our headmistress.
Beribboned pigtails bouncing, Penny slipped around to lay her head on Tara’s shoulder. Tara turned, cradling the girl in her arms.
“Shh,” she soothed, running her fingers through the silky hair. “You were brave, and I’m proud of you.”
Penny lifted a hand to her flushed cheek, sniffling and gulping back sobs. Bright tears sparkled unshed on dark, curling eyelashes. “Ow,” she whimpered, her other hand brushing back to rub her knicker-clad bottom before Tara enclosed both of Penny’s hands in her own.
“Be a good girl,” she admonished, and she lifted the smaller girl’s chin to rest trustingly in her palm.
On Wednesday, I announced the winners of the first-ever “Happy Spanker” award, meaning an author who contributed a great deal toward the Spank or Treat 2013 fun. Maren Smith and Alice Dark shared the award, and they were offered their choice of gifts. Maren chose to receive The Vengeance of Mrs. Claus, and Alice elected to receive a spanking. The “Evil Queen,” known for her naughty tales of F/F spanking (particularly caning!), is featured in today’s eight-sentence mini-story.
The setup: Previously, the naughty Emily Tilton found herself on the wrong side of our formidable Headmistress Blake. After her punishment, Irishey wrote a lively tale of Emily’s plot for revenge. Enter Miss Alice Dark, Head Girl of our naughty bunch. Alice took it upon herself to cane the errant Emily for her misdeeds, but alas! She overstepped her authority and must face the wrath of a Headmistress Blake who reserves for herself alone the pleasure of punishing girls. Poor Alice! Or shall we say, lucky Alice? 😉
At Headmistress Blake’s awful pronouncement, Alice spread her skirts and sank to the floor in a graceful curtsy. “I apologize for having wronged you, Headmistress,” she said in a soft gasp. “I forgot my place.”
“Then I shall have to remind you,” Headmistress Blake answered, fingering the slender, crooked-handle cane she kept always at the ready. “Be so good as to assume the position, Miss Dark.”
Alice rose, stretched her supple arms, and folded herself into the hands-gripping-ankles position she had observed but rarely performed. Her lithe body folded like rippling silk, her taut leg and buttock muscles contracting as she focused on keeping her breath steady.
“I shall thoroughly enjoy caning you,” Headmistress Blake proclaimed, and Alice gave a delicious shudder as the woman raised her cane for the first strike.
(That’s all I’m allowed for this time, but if there is enough interest I may continue our Headmistress Tales next week. Hope you liked it!)