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Authors: Patricia Green

Spanking Her Highness

BOOK: Spanking Her Highness
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Spanking Her Highness
Patricia Green
(2012)

Spanking Her Highness

(Book 3 in the Journey Family Series)

by Patricia Green

 

Copyright 2012 Blushing Books Publications and Patricia Green

Copyright © 2012 by Blushing Books® and Patricia Green

All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Blushing Books®,

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The trademark Blushing Books® is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

Green, Patricia

Spanking Her Highness

eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-660-4

Cover Design: ABCD Graphics

Thank you for buying this title from Blushing Books, a subsidiary of Blushing Publications.
Blushing Books is the oldest and largest publisher of romantic erotica, and spanking and BDSM erotica on the Internet.  We are also one of the oldest eBook publishers.  Since 2001, we have either published exclusively or under agreement with other companies thousands of romantic erotic novels spanking stories, and BDSM books. 
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http://www.blushingbooks.com
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Our stories are intended for adults only.  Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only.  Nothing in this book, or in any publication of Blushing Books, should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

Acknowledgements

With appreciation to Ken, Jenna and Kathryn, who know how to figuratively spank me when I need it.  Thank you.

Chapter 1

 

 

The eastern sun slanting across the front of the wide front porch made Queenie's bare feet hot, but it was familiar and welcome. As frenetic as things had been in the last week, it was still good to be home on her family's Texas ranch, the place where she'd grown up and where so much of her heart lay. She played a riff on her fiddle, warming up her hands. It was a lively tune and made her smile softly as she fingered the strings.

For each of the last five mornings, she'd come out to sit on the porch, and for each of those mornings their new neighbor, Will Mazie, came by to try and talk to her father. After the first morning, Leo Journey wouldn't make the time for him. Every day had a new excuse. Will wanted a water easement over the Journey ranch in order to fill his new bass pond, but Leo was dragging his feet on putting a lease together. Queenie didn't know what her father was waiting for—it was a reasonable request by their neighbor, but still Leo avoided the man. Queenie figured that when her big brother, Ace, got back to Texas, he'd be able to figure out the issue and handle the problem. The irritation was that Mazie kept showing up, despite her advice to wait.

After the first three days, Queenie had begun to anticipate Will and their verbal sparring. She tried not to sit eagerly waiting for him, but she couldn't quite divorce herself from expecting him. The problem was, he was so damned appealing with his tall, broad-shouldered body and his sexy baritone voice. He smiled easy and often. She'd have liked to flirt with him, but stopped herself every time the temptation arose. She didn't want another relationship. The last one had been a disaster, and the whole idea of another made her prickly and defensive. So she poked at him instead. She knew she had a sharp tongue and a quick temper, but she was damned if she was going to let him sneak in under her guard.

The sound of Will's jeep on the tarmac road leading up to the big house lit a tiny spark in her chest, but she tamped it down. He was a Hollywood city slicker. He didn't know about ranching and didn't belong in Texas. Certainly, his tendency to boss her around was unwelcome. At least, that's what she tried to convince herself. That he was handsome and smart didn't mean anything. His refusal to go away negated all that good stuff.

She continued to play, moving on to an Irish reel, as he walked up, the heels of his shiny, too-new cowboy boots thudding dully on the pavement. Her pair of Jack Russells went wild at his approach, jumping and barking frantically. He bent toward Lucy and Ethel and gave them each a dog biscuit. They took the treats and brought them back to the porch, too busy munching on their goodies to be a deterrent. Traitors.

"Queenie."

"
Mr. Mazie.
" She didn't look up.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were happy to see me."

Her bow scraped as she shot him a look. "I'm glad you know better." She played several staccato notes, rather sharper than she'd like, then lowered the fiddle to her lap. "Why are you here?"

"The same reason I've been here the last five days. I want to see your father."

"He's not available." She couldn't see his eyes behind his reflective sunglasses, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. As if on cue, Leo Journey's big pickup truck rolled past the side of the house and away down the road.

Will pushed a lock of auburn hair off his forehead, but the breeze blew it right back. He ought to wear a hat in the bright sun. "I guess it's just you and me again, in that case."

"Not for long, asshole. I think you were on your way back to your car." Will's grin was wide and he actually chuckled. Queenie bristled. "I keep tellin' you that he's not gonna see you until he's good and ready, but you keep comin' back. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I told you two days ago that a woman as pretty as you shouldn't have such a dirty mouth. I see that you didn’t listen."

Queenie stopped playing and glared at him. It was so frustrating not to see his eyes. "I don't have to listen to you, you, you, jerk! You are not the boss of me, Will Mazie!"

There was a buzzing, chiming sound and Will's forehead crinkled with a frown as he pulled his cellphone from his pocket. He looked at it, still ringing, and pressed a button. The chiming stopped and he put the phone away again.

Queenie fleetingly wondered who'd be calling him so early in the morning. Did he have a girlfriend? She knew he didn't have a wife; she'd have heard about that at church. He was from Hollywood, so he could have pretty much any kind of significant other, however. What the hell did she care, anyway? He was a bossy jackass, and she didn't care a fig if he had a harem.

He nodded to her violin as it rested on her lap. "For a person who has the self-discipline to play so well, you sure don't have a curb on your behavior. Maybe you need a dose of self-control."

She stood and put the fiddle on the seat of her chair. "If you threaten to spank me again, I'm gonna-"

"What? Screech at me some more? Cuss at me like a sailor?" He was still grinning. "I'd say you have those things covered. I don’t see that I have much to lose, frankly."

"Why you arrogant asshole!" She rushed him and got in his face. "You think you're so cool, buyin' the old Caswell ranch and movin' in with your Hollywood polish and your fancy fuckin' plans for the place. Well, I'll tell you somethin', piss head, you don't know the first thin' about ranchin', and you'll be here less than six months before you make a ruin of the place. You goddamned city jerks think you know everythin'!"

Will whipped off his glasses, and Queenie smothered a little gasp at his eyes. They were piercing blue, like cobalt laser beams staring directly at her. Dark lashes framed them and the beginnings of crow's feet teased the outside edges. They were amazing eyes, and they were smoldering. "You talk too much," he told her, dragging her into his arms.

The kiss was unexpected, and Queenie opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't quite get the objection out. After a moment, she didn't want to. His tongue was forceful, alternating with his teeth against her lips. She found herself responding, while at the same time, she chided herself for being perverse. She hated Will Mazie. Hated him! He was everything she didn't like in a man--bossy, dominant, arrogant. In fact, he shared many traits with her brothers. But that was different. She loved her brothers. They were always there for her. Anyway, it didn't bear examining at the moment.

His hands were warm against the small of her back, and his belly hard against hers as he pressed her closer. She couldn't think, she was nothing but one great big nerve, feeling with her whole being. As he slowly broke their kiss, she was surprised to find her hands in his hair, pulling his head down to hers.

Goddamn it! She stepped back and drew back her hand, slapping him on the cheek with all her might.

He turned his head away at the blow, and when he faced her again, his grin was back. That infuriating, awful, arrogant grin! It was obvious that he didn't take her seriously, and her irritation rose yet another notch.

 "Is that supposed to end our…discussion?"

Queenie's face fell into the frown she reserved solely for Will Mazie. "Asshole! Get the hell out of here!"

"Let's deal with that potty mouth first, shall we?"

Before Queenie could do more than squeak, he'd upended her and put her over his shoulder like a fifty-pound sack of flour, not a 120-pound woman. "Put me down! Who the fuck do you think you are?" She beat on his back as hard as she could, but it didn't seem to faze him. Goddamned muscle-bound Neanderthal! "I'm gonna scream! The whole ranch is gonna come runnin'!"

He swatted her sharply on the behind. Twice.

"You can't spank me! I'll shoot you! You just see if I don't."

Two more spanks on her denim-clad rear and she squawked and flailed. He didn't drop her, and maybe she was a little glad for that. It was a long way down. But she was pissed off something fierce and wasn't going to go to her punishment without a fight.

"Hush, Queenie." He stalked toward the side of the house where there were sheds and a small studio.  He tried the studio door. "What's this room? Your Dad's office?" The door opened with a click.

"You can't go in there. It's my father's leather workshop. No one goes in there."

Mazie whistled as he stepped into the large, sunlit room. Queenie struggled again and he put a few more slaps on her behind. "Simmer down, honey, or this is going to go worse for you."

She hung there, head down, and tried to figure out how to get out of this predicament. It was true that she cussed a lot. She had since her mother died twenty years ago. Her mother had been something of a cusser, too, though she'd never used the f-word. Queenie knew her father had given her mother more than one spanking for bad language. But, although he'd spanked Queenie as a child, it stopped when her mother passed. Lots of things had stopped, and only slowly come back. The spanking didn't. Maybe her language had deteriorated some since then, but at thirty-two, Queenie was too old to be spanked, in her opinion. Which didn't seem to affect Will Mazie's intentions one iota.

All concept of self-control fled, though some niggling voice told her that she was going to regret it. "Let me go, fucker! I'm warning you!"

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." He put her down on the floor, feet first. "Pull down your jeans and bend over the saddle rack."

Her father's latest tooled saddle, half-finished, sat on the rack, a work of art, and something she'd have been happy to admire close-up under different circumstances.

She eyed the sharp leather tools, weighing her options and the consequences. Words seemed a better defense. "Fuck you."

He arched an auburn eyebrow. "Why Ms. Journey, is that an invitation?"

She wanted to explode with fury and she took another open-handed swing at his face. This one he caught easily.

"Now, honey, it's not like I didn't warn you."

"I hate you, Will Mazie." She started toward the door and he yanked her back by the waist.

"Jeans down. Now."

Although his voice held a threat—he'd take her jeans down himself if she didn't comply--she wasn't afraid of him. Over the last several days, she'd come to realize that he was a decent man, and one not prone to anger. She'd sure given him plenty of cause to get pissed off, but he hadn't. He didn't seem pissed off now, either.

There was something bad-boy sexy about him. Something that made her excited and curious. She didn't know what it was, but it made the idea of a spanking sound sensual. Crazy ideas!

Queenie tried to elbow him in the jaw as he pulled her back, but she missed and he soon had her standing in front of him while he unbuttoned her jeans. She tried to pull his fingers away, but they wouldn't be loosened.

"If you spank me, my big brothers Ace and Deuce are gonna beat you to a pulp!"

"I thought you were going to shoot me first." The jeans got yanked toward her knees, effectively hobbling her, and he pressed her down toward the saddle rack with a hand on her upper back. Immediately, he smacked her rear, first one cheek then the other. "Nice thong. Leaves your pretty little ass all ready for spanking."

She'd never been so humiliated, but the feel of his broad palm on her butt was both painful and…seductive. Queenie didn't want to be seduced, she wanted to punch him in the eye. "Let me go!" Struggling against the hand which held her down, she tried to cover her rear, but he quickly gathered her wrists together and held them firmly.

Two more swats landed on her rear. Then something new happened. There was a low whistle in the air and something other than his hand shot fire over her butt cheek, like nothing had ever done before. Her father had spanked her with his hand, and that was bad enough, but this was intense.

"Hey, this leather strap is pretty good. I'll have to ask your father to make me one."

The strap landed four or five more times and Queenie wailed. Stinging pain radiated from each blow like a burning brand. Half of her wanted to run away and half of her wanted to encourage him. It left her torn and confused. "Stop it! Stop it, Will!"

"You gonna to stop cussing at me? Gonna be a little more pleasant and polite?"

The strap traveled down her rear to her upper thighs, spreading heat and bee stings wherever it went. It was accompanied by an annoying little whorl of tension in her lower belly, and her nipples became hard buttons. It had to stop or she'd lose herself.

"Okay! Okay! I'll watch what I say!"

More shocking strokes of the strap, and then he paused. His hand caressed her hot rear for a moment, but next, his fingers moved between her legs. "Well, what do you know. I guess the lady doth protest too much."

Her face flamed at his observation, and the squirmy feeling low in her belly found the mental image of her wetness on his fingers sexy. That kind of thinking was going to get her in trouble. "You've had your fun, Will. Let me up."

The leather strap ticked against the tooling bench and Will went back to spanking her with his hand. Tears started in her eyes. She would not cry. No, no, no. But she sure as hell wouldn't cuss at him either. "Ow! Please stop. I promise I'll try."

He stepped back. "Okay. Go ahead and pull up your jeans, honey."

It took her a moment to wiggle into the tight denims and her bottom protested as she slid them up over her hips. The slickness of her pussy was too sensual by half and she tugged on the jeans roughly, trying to force the feeling away. "I should have shouted rape," she muttered. There was a pout in her voice, and it ticked her off.

Mazie tilted her chin up and she looked into those incredible eyes again. "Are you a liar too, on top of everything else?"

She wrested her chin free. "No."

He shook his head. "Didn't think so."

"You really know how to sweet-talk a girl."

He laughed. "Your little panties and I will keep your secret."

"Assho-" He gave her a challenging look. "Jerk."

His smile was a trifle smug. "I'll be back tomorrow to try to see your father. I want that easement."

"My brother Ace will be home in a few days. You can't wait until then?" She wanted him to agree to wait, and wanted him to persist as well. He totally confused her and Queenie wanted to scream at her body to knock it off.

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