Part I here

Alice felt like a shy teenager when Adam had looked at her and amid blustered blushes she suddenly found something of pressing interest in the barber shop window. That was until she realised what she was doing and turned back.

The two men were no longer looking at her and were crossing the street to the diner like extras from Reservoir Dogs. They probably have rotten teeth and hunt ‘coons for a hobby, she thought wistfully, as if the running them down might make them more obtainable. Then she remembered who they were. Damn, I have to quit acting like this.

A woman was looking at her with a look of irritated puzzlement on her face. Alice realised that she was obvious enough without lollygagging on street corners and looking into men’s barbers.

“Oh ma’am,” Alice said smoothly as she touched her hair, “Do you know where I might get a coffee?”

The woman relaxed as if the request restored normality. “The barber hands out coffee to the menfolk sometimes, but you would get a better cup at Red’s across the way,” she said and pointed to the diner.

Alice smiled and nodded with her thanks and as nonchalantly as she could, she strolled across the road to where she had seen the two Stone brothers heading.

I just need a coffee and I have legitimate business with their father, what could be more natural than that? Alice rehearsed her motives in her head, all the time unaccountable butterflies danced in her tummy.


Stacy Dane made no show of noticing, but she watched the two men enter the diner like a hawk. She had been in town over a month now and had realised right away that playing it cool was the way to go. Once people got used to her hanging around they began to relax and Stacy got to learn more.

The stone brothers were sex on legs, and what legs, she inwardly whistled. Nevertheless, apart from that there was nothing at all unusual about them. She watched as they took a seat in the window, noting that Nancy almost broke off from refilling a customer in her eagerness to attend to them. Was it fear or deference? Stacy pondered. Perhaps she just fancied her chances?

The two men ordered black coffee, declining the offer of pie and a Danish, Stacy noted. Looking at their physique, there was nothing unusual about that either. Not for the first time she wondered if she were crazy and if the rumours could be remotely true.

As she mulled this over she made doodles of crosses and coffins in the margins of her newspaper, extending one with a shadow to form an outline of a man. Then realising it was way too close for comfort, she scribbled over it and changed the pattern into a cobweb.

The woman who followed the Stone brothers in was a stranger and it didn’t take Hawkeye to know that she was totally focussed on the same quarry. She was tall and smartly dressed with a green business skirt-suit that suggested money. The hair was a little uptight, devoid of split ends and a healthy red-brown; it was immaculately poised on her head like a helmet as if she were dressed for battle. She had a nice ass too, Stacy noted, money and looks, she thought bitterly.

Stacy watched as the woman picked an empty central booth directly across from brothers while she so obviously ignored them.

“With you in a moment ma’am,” Nancy said without looking.

Alice acknowledged the waitress with a nod and pretended to peruse the laminated menu on the table. She couldn’t help notice that a handful of diners were more interested in the Stone men rather than a stranger. Not getting noticed was something she wasn’t used to, not even in the city. It wasn’t just the women either; most of the men were casting uneasy glances at the brothers.

The only exception was a young woman sitting in the corner who was engrossed in her newspaper. Beneath the eyeglasses and an ill-fitting grey beret she appeared quite pretty. Although it was obvious to Alice that non-descript dark blonde hair was not used to being pampered and the large blue sweater and jeans had both been patched.

Alice and Stacy weren’t the only ones people-watching. John had perked up the minute the lawyer had walked in the room and if it hadn’t been for his brother he might have shown an interest. Who was she, he thought, as he surreptitiously looked her over? His instincts were good and he was pretty sure that the woman was sizing them up too, just like the other newcomer in town who always took a corner seat. Only she was much less obvious.

“Is that grungy girl in the corner still checking us out?” Adam said once Nancy had gone to get their order.

His brother’s instincts were better than his when it came to outsider folk, but any strangers were always a potential threat.

“Oh yeah,” John drawled without looking at her. “So is the new girl.”

“Any fool could see that,” Adam snorted, “She doesn’t worry me, she is way too obvious.”

“A looker though,” John said with a smirk. That was an understatement, he thought, amazed that his brother wasn’t more interested himself.

“Not bad for a spoiled city girl I suppose,” Adam shrugged. “It is the other one that worries me.”

John refrained from risking a glance, but his senses told him his brother might be right. The train of thought was interrupted by the redhead in the smart clothes.

“Did I hear someone say that you are Garrick Stone’s sons?” Alice said pleasantly, her lips formed a light pout before showed the two men a measure of her perfect teeth.

“I have no idea what you heard someone say,” Adam said sharply without even looking at her.

John gave his brother a look of irritation and then slipped into a boyish smile, “It is a small town,” he said as he turned to take a closer look at the woman, “How is it you know our father?”

“Oh I don’t,” Alice said smoothly and smiled back. “I am from out of town, but I have business with… sorry, actually I have to be discreet, but it involves your father,” but showered most of her attention on John.

“The old devil,” John joshed her, “And what business is that?” He moved up a seat so that he sat next to the aisle closer to Alice. “I’m John Stone by the way,” he added, offering his hand.

Alice took it, but her attention remained on Adam. “Alice… Alice Eden,” she purred.

Adam shot her a sideways glare. “We aren’t buying and we are not selling,” he growled.

“My brother is Adam, ignore him, he isn’t used to beautiful women,” John said quickly.

Alice made a professional laugh and reluctantly gave John her attention.

“I don’t think Ms Eden is so easily flattered,” Adam grunted.

“No, but I appreciate good manners,” Alice snapped back and forced a warm smile in John’s direction.

“Hey, why don’t I show you the town?” John said brightly.

“She can look out of the window can’t she?” Adam muttered.

“What about a drink later down at the Shack?” John pressed her, now ignoring his brother.

“Maybe… after I meet your father,” Alice said carefully.

“Lady, I told you we are not buying what you’re selling so move on,” Adam’s voice was hard with menace now and despite his rudeness Alice felt an odd pang in her belly. Always the bad boys with you isn’t it, she chided herself?

John made another attempt to interject, but his marginally older brother silenced him with a hand.

“Look, I only want…” Alice began.

“Tell me Ms Eden,” Adam cut her off, his reluctant attention had swivelled itself on to her now and she felt uneasy. “Has any one ever turned your precious pretty tail across their knee and spanked your spoiled little bottom for you?”

There was some laughter in the room, but Alice could only gape at the man as her jaw hit the floor.

“Ma’am,” Nancy had come back with a tray of coffee for the men, but she had moved between the Stone’s and her newest customer now. “Maybe you had better sit over in back?”

“Hey, she’s cool,” John protested.

A red-faced Alice was still bristling and ready to give as good as she got.

“I mean ma’am, in this town there ain’t no one who’s gonna see nothing or say nothing where Mr Stone is concerned…” Nancy said as she made eye contact.

“Fine,” Alice angrily snapped and snatching up her purse moved away.

“Why did you have to go and do that?” John hissed.

“It is full moon in less than a week and now we have two strangers in town,” his brother replied. It was answer enough and they both knew it.

To be continued…

Vintage Sunday


Part one here

Alice Eden leaned back against the diner wall and looked up at the Montana sky with a groan. All she had to do to complete the probate work on the Stephens estate was get three crumby signatures and then she was out of this dump. Dr Anderson had been pleasant enough. He had promised her that there would be no problem, but to leave the papers with her for his own lawyers and he would get back to her.

Mrs Dangerfield had taken a week to find her reading glasses, all the while making it clear that she was suspicious and wary of outsiders. Then after taking another age to read every last word she too had insisted on passing it on to her own lawyer.

However that had not been the real sticking point. The third signature was needed from a rancher called Garrick Stone, but a simple inquiry to the hitherto cooperative Dr Anderson had gotten her a strange response.

“Yes I know him,” the good doctor had replied, his demeanour now reticent. “What does he have to do with this?”

“Bateman Stephens stipulated that Mr Stone and yourself had to sign off on these particulars before we can dispose of the property, it is just a formality,” Alice said easily.

“I make it my business to stay out of Garrick’s. He doesn’t like visitors and he doesn’t mix much with the townsfolk,” the doctor had muttered.

“But where can I find him?” Alice had pressed him.

“Around,” Dr Anderson had shrugged, adding with a tone of finality, “Good day.”

Most people around town had claimed not know Stone and those that admitted an acquaintance had refused to talk.

“This is crazy,” she breathed and rolled her eyes. As if to add to her loss of composure a strand of her otherwise immaculate auburn hair flicked over her face to itch her and she blew at it like a sullen teen before she caught herself and brushed it away.

Then she saw them and her heart stopped for the longest tenth of a second in the short history of her life. The car was a beaten up once red 4×4 pick-up. The roll bar even held an empty gun rack like a million others. But the two men exiting the truck seized her gaze as in something like slow motion as they gathered their considerable height like two primeval predators.

It took a moment to realise that they were so similar in the face that they could be the same man. However, one was rugged in a working shirt and wore his hair long. The other, more cruel in his outward appearance wore his hair close cropped and was sleek all over in Levis and a figure hugging tailored motorcycle jacket.

“Who are they?” she said breathily.

“Those are the younger Stone brothers,” the girl who was clearing cups from the sidewalk tables said in a tone of awe.

Alice shook herself, “Stone? Garrick Stone’s sons?” she guessed.

The girl frowned, she knew better than to discuss Garrick. “So they say,” she muttered and moved away.

Alice was still gaping like a candy-struck teen when the long-haired Stone turned his gaze towards her and offered up an easy smile. Following his brother’s gaze the hard-edged one looked at her more piercingly and Alice broke eye-contact.


The morning had dragged slowly and the red tang in the girl’s exposed bottoms had eased enough so that experience had become more embarrassing than painful. Lana had taken to shifting her weight to one hip and her elbows had dropped so that her hands were now pressed to the sides of her head.

Keri was more attentive to the drill, being much too scared now to defy Garrick in any way. At each unseen footfall her face glowed and she pressed her head into the barn wall as she wished herself elsewhere.

It was still too shaming to be boring, but most of the others had now drifted away to go about their day and only the occasional wolf-whistle from one of the passing men reminded them they hadn’t been completely forgotten.

“Come on, how much longer?” Lana groaned under her breath.

Talking was verboten and Keri cringed. Her friend had a knack of getting them both into trouble. She could only pray that Augusta or Garrick hadn’t heard. Not that she had any way of telling if they were nearby as her own nose was firmly rooted the barn wall and would stay there until she had been dismissed.


Melanie wanted to rage at Jared, how dare he tell her how to cut her hair? Instead she made a pout of her gloss-red lips and ran an agitated hand through her shorn blonde locks. Her husband regarded her with much the same expression he reserved for the men after a misdirected hunt or some other failure.

“It is just a haircut,” she said in a tone of impatient exasperation and defiantly folded her arms.

Rain sucked in her cheeks to hide a smile and carefully stood up before glancing at the door. Melanie was playing this all wrong, she thought.

Jared narrowed his eyes so that his brows nearly met. He already towered over both women, now he seemed to get bigger.

“Well it is,” Melanie said nervously and averted her eyes.

“A Thursday night special is just a haircut, just like a Sunday mow of the lawn is just a grass cut,” Jared’s voice had a dark edge and was leaning on his second best menace. “This,” he spat jerking a finger at her head, “Is a massacre.”

Melanie coloured and thought about mocking his clumsy analogy. Words weren’t his strong point. But in truth she regretted her impetuous new look and she had known as soon as she looked in Betty Samson’s mirror that she was in shit with Jared.

“So you said,” she muttered and met his glare with one of her own. One day she might be the Alpha female of this crew, she didn’t have to take shit from Jared over a haircut. Their eyes met for a minor geological age before she finally surrender her gaze to the carpet. “Look, you spanked me already, remember,” she sighed.

“Yes and you had it coming and a hell of a lot more besides,” he barked at her and then swung about to face the wall, which he pounded suddenly with a steady fist. Then letting out a slow breath he wearily said, “I can scarcely beat my point into you.”

Melanie was about to spit in his face. His point was an ascetic one, not that he could spell it. She had shown some independent spirit and challenged his ownership of her. But she knew that wasn’t fair. Long hair was not only a mark of status among their kind; she knew he loved her white gold tresses, just as he revelled in Rain’s jet mane. As for ownership, well that ship had long since sailed. Some days she still could not believe that she shared her man with another, but it was the way of things and it was what she had signed on for. She rolled her eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry okay, I totally screwed up. I probably only did it to piss you off,” she admitted and looked off to the side, embarrassed by her admission. When he didn’t answer her she whispered, “You’re going to spank me again aren’t you?”

He turned his head and studied his spirited wife in amusement. “I think you know that I am,” he chuckled, finally lightening the mood.

“As much as I would love to see the fireworks I think I had better go,” Rain said as she pulled a face and slipped away.

Melanie had given up fighting for now, she had long since learned that apart from when he had to defer to his father, for Jared it was his way or nothing. She worked her tongue in her mouth and swallowed. “Did you mean what you said before?” she asked, apprehension gently settling on her face.

“What was that?” Jared said casually, half-ignoring her as he stripped off his biker jacket. His cotton-clad barrel chest now tapered to a tight waist and his broad leather belt. The latter held Melanie’s attention.

“Th-that you would spank me every day until my hair grew back,” again she worked her tongue in a dry mouth and fixed her eyes on the wolf’s head buckle of his belt.

“I was mad,” he snorted, “Not that you don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t,” she blurted in dismay, “I mean… I am sorry okay.”

Jared cocked a single stern eye brow and gave her a one eye glare. Then seeing her dip her head in submission he muttered, “That’s better.”

“Sorry,” she said again, her voice barely a whisper.

Jared nodded. He hated that she had cut her hair and he hated it even more that he was so mad about it. Such trivia should be beneath him and there were other ways he could have displayed his displeasure. He knew he was a brutal man, it was part of his nature, but there was a line when it came to women and he was afraid he had already crossed it. The trouble was there was no way he could easily back down.

“Are you afraid of me?” he growled more harshly than he had meant to.

Melanie shook her head without looking up and then shrugged. “Maybe a little,” she said.

“I mean…” he began, cursing himself for the lack of words.

Melanie looked up and met his eyes. “No, not like that, not ever.” Her tone was fierce and defiant.

Jared folded his arms and regarded her like a puzzle. The hair still made him mad, but for a moment he just wanted to hold her. To call back Rain and…

“It’s just…” Melanie ducked her head again and swallowed as the little girl returned. “It hurts… and… and… it will take a couple of years for my hair to grow back how it was…”

She was right and that realisation almost summoned the wolf in him. For a second his eyes flashed red a baleful and it was all he could do not to grab her and strip her. He would spank her alright… until his hand was blistered raw and she rued the day she had been born with a backside…

Melanie with her head still bowed, saw none of this in his face and as quickly as it had come he supressed it.

“Tell you what,” he said at last. “You think on it and when I get back if you can’t look me in the eye and say you don’t deserve it… then you will feel my belt, today and once a week until your hair… until your hair touches your collar.”

She looked up and nodded, her mouth forming the tight line of a smile.

“If you did this just to get…” he became angry again, “Just to raise some hell… then I put you on notice, while your hair grows back you had better behave or someone is going to be fetching some mean switches from woods instead of just a spanking.”

Melanie gaped at him and almost rebelled again, but Jared turned on the spot and rolled out of the room.

“Shit,” Melanie sighed.

To be continued…

Nude on a platformThank you for all the requests and inquiries about our absence. Every day for the last two years we have had dozens of people requesting access to A Voice in the Corner: even today. That’s thousands of you! I wasn’t that surprised in the first few weeks, but your requests kept on coming and that has played a big part in encouraging me to start again. I am sorry that I could not meet your needs, nor was I able to reply to you in person, but I assure you there has been no exclusive party going on without you. The whole project just stopped and went into aspic.

In the past our unique visitors got as high 16,000 in one day and when we closed the average was around 10,000 in a 24 hour period. I don’t expect to return to that level any time soon, if ever, after all, the world has moved on, but when I was dusting off the dashboard (the tech bit behind the scenes) I was shocked that in its time A Voice has had over 16 million visitors. I never stopped to consider just how staggering that was, not to say terrifying.

That sabbatical was rather longer than we intended and a lot has changed at Castle Black. Merging two households into our London home has been a challenge. Also we have both had to focus on the business of earning money.

I am not going to say too much now about our absence and the reasons for it; and many details will never be discussed here. But at some point I will explain some of it. Meanwhile Mrs Black is working on a blogging project of her own, hence her current absence here; more on that later.

It has been nine years to the day since I launched this blog, and with a post nearly every day, there are well over two million words here; more than half being my fiction. I don’t think I will be publishing here quite as often as I used to, but stories left hanging will eventually find their way to these pages, starting with the continuation of In the Service of the Wolf.

Some features will return, but some fiction strands will be continued exclusively via LSF Publishing.

On that note I want to thank all those who continued to buy my stories. There is some exclusive material, such as The Exit Bureau, which is not available anywhere else, and now sits alongside other material such as The Russell Corner and Magic, which are only available for purchase.

However, most of my material is still here and once again available and will be added to in the months that follow.

It is great to be back, please bear with me while I get my head around the new features of the CMS and remind myself how the old features work.

1wr s-l1600aThanks to everyone for the fantastic comments. I want to stress that Indigo and I are very touched by your support, but apart from the obvious, there is no cause for concern. Both our lives have changed radically in the last year and we are both going through a period of positive but nonetheless far-reaching professional and personal upheaval. Among other things we are embarking on a small ‘domestic project’ of our own.

For complicated reasons the blog must come down for now and will go private sometime on Friday.

My work will continue to be available at the Library of Spanking Fiction with as yet unpublished work at LSF. Bookmark those and you will be able to read most of my back uncatalogued and any new stuff in future.

It is my earnest hope and intention that A Voice in the Corner will return at some point in the not so dim and distant future, but I cannot yet say when.

I also want to thank everyone who has supported this project over the last six years. In that time there have been almost two million words of fiction, approaching 2,000 posts, 17 million visits and countless snippets, pictures and anecdotes. I have met some real friends, and the number of negative issues that have arisen I can literally (an over used word) count on my fingers.

I know there are several stories unresolved. For that I am sorry, but most if not all will be completed at some point. These and many more are pending at LSF  and the Library (where the archive is free and for a very modest membership fee this not-for-profit resource gives you all kinds of extras).

So for now, so long and thanks for lending me your eyes.

Sad News


Dear All,

What I am about to tell you has been on the cards for a few months and I had intended to tell you next week. But events are moving very fast here for Indigo and I. Sadly this blog will have to close for a while. By a while I mean many months to a year or more at least.

I am not sure when it will close – but sooner rather than planned August date I had planned for, maybe this week. This may be the last post, I am not yet certain.

I know there are many stories left open and not concluded. I very much regret this. I fully intend to finish these stories when time permits and my work will still be available at LSF, both for sale and for free.

I apologise too to all those friends who have not been given an advance warning about this. But my email will still be active and time and location permitting I will still be contactable.

Weekly Round-Up


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Well a good week for stuff, but less pictures. I guess people are on their holidays.

Pandora’s Dreams of Spanking is back up and open for business. Kia is plugging a school for adults in Galway (that’s in Ireland). There is a completely unrelated picture above.

I have patched in some old pictures this week from various sources, but some of the above were found at Able, Sensual Drift, About Spanking and CutiePie.

Vintage Sunday


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cornertime14abraham2_200LSF have published the latest installment of Abraham Heights (a spanking soap). In due course this series will include previously unpublished material, but if you wanted your Donna Warren et al in one place then maybe this is for you.

Welcome to Abraham Heights, a town well off the beaten track with an old-fashioned set of family values. The second season of our spanking soap opera features the following eight episodes:

Episode 1: Home with the Heavers: Spanking is very much the norm in the town of Abraham Heights, something that English lecturer, Donna Warren, is only too aware of in her own dealings with housemother, Mrs Main, and the message is further reinforced when she is drawn to the Heavers’ house. Spying through a window, she witnesses two bare-bottomed women standing in a corner of the living room, before ‘Uncle Paul’ does a thorough job of paddling them both. Realizing the late hour, Donna returns back to her Freshman Hall to face her own consequences.

Episode 2: A Day in the Life: It’s business as usual in Abraham Heights as we get a glimpse into a variety of different punishment scenes, including a painful sorority paddling, a tutor disciplining his student, a husband correcting his wife and a resident of the freshman hall submitting to her housemother’s hairbrush once again.

Episode 3: What Comes around Goes Around: When 26-year-old Ainsley Greenberg visits Abraham Heights to carry out an audit, she opts to stay at a small out of town family-run hotel on the edge of town. She is shocked to discover the hotel owner spanking three young women for missing curfew, but when she leaves the bath taps running one morning, causing a flood in the bathroom, it’s her own bottom that pays the price.

Episode 4: Any Other Saturday: It’s Saturday morning and sorority pledge, Charlotte Coleman, seeks out the tutoring services of Roland Archer, despite his reputation for severe discipline. Meanwhile, Donna is on the receiving end of a vigorous maintenance spanking session from her formidable housemother, Mrs Main.

Episode 5: Needs Must: Donna is dreading her punishment session with Mrs. Main and is struggling to understand why someone of her own age and position still submits to the housemother, but at the same time she accepts that’s it’s something that she needs. In another part of town, Mindy Heaver has been punished for breaking curfew and is bare-bottomed doing corner time when her friends, Alice and Grace, pay a visit.

Episode 6: Exit Strategy: Late with her essay, Melanie Crow finds herself kneeling on a leather pouf with her bare bottom in the air as she awaits the first stroke of the cane from her tutor, Roland Archer. Donna reflects on her punishment and ‘cleansing’ at the hands of Mrs Main.

Episode 7: Quis Docet Domina Errans: When Prudence Trencher fails to pay the rent and makes a mess of the kitchen, Paul Heaver decides that discipline is called for. Finding her in the shower, she tries to escape, but ends up naked over his lap for a prolonged spanking with a wooden bath brush. Meanwhile, Roland Archer has disciplined Karen Garland and is waiting for her mother, who is late once again, to collect her. When she finally arrives, she has an unusual request for her daughter’s tutor…

Episode 8: Tender Memories: In the season finale, the customers and an employee of the Horn Street Coffee Shop all have their secrets, but it appears that they all share something in common as they reflect on a parental spanking, a sorority paddling and an extended introduction to a housemother’s punishment enema.

outlander debb5aadoutlander 000aoutlander c29240633f8174b5dedc outlander 00000Outlander__Caitriona_BalfeIndigo and I have been watching series 2 of Outlander. I have to say story-wise this is a woman who is a serial troublemaker and indulges her self-righteous imposition of 20th century values to any situation heedless of the consequences to anyone, especially her husband and family. From a spanking point of view a continued exploration a clash of cultures in light of this theme would have been interesting and valid even from a vanilla point of view. Otherwise what we have is the assumption of cultural superiority of the present over the past.

In case you missed it, after getting a very well-handled spanking (see above) the characters agreed that it would never happen again. So don’t watch this excellent series for spanking scenes. This is a shame as a feminist analysts would have been better served by confronting the reality rather than the credibility stretching newfound liberalism of an 18th century Scottish laird. Otherwise this has been well positioned with regard to the history and has avoided the traps and cliches normally ascribed to ‘Romantic Scotland’ and Bonnie Prince Charlie.

Briefly the Jacobite rebellions were about the Divine Right of the Stuart dynasty and the ‘True Faith’ versus the new style constitutional monarchy and the ascendancy of Parliament.

Interestingly the debate around this among women fans is polarised. Some lament either the lost escapism of a rollicking good spanking tale and largely agree with my analysis above or they see the spanking scene as an aberration in an otherwise female character-led story.


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