Putting the Madge in Danna (23 page)

I felt the nudging of cock at rosebud gate.
It had been soaked in slithery patchouli oil lubrication, the smell
of my first Madonna dream. It was ready for its mission, its virgin
voyage.

I said, “God, fuck me.” He slid that
perfectly sized throbbing member into my behind, slowly and
carefully so that I could get used to it for the future. “Ow!
Mother fuckers and lucky charms!”

“
You are now the goddess
of Greeks,” he whispered into my ear. His man fluid dripped from my
girl bung and leaked all over my booty-boot and legs.

He kissed me on the back of the neck the way
I like it when we’ve finished making love, the way I’ve liked it
for the last five years. Then he lifted me into his arms and pulled
the blindfold off my sweaty face. Zeus maneuvered me into his lap
again. He replaced his Austin Powers accent with his own silky
Australian one.

“
I’m going to have to
spank you now, Dani,” he said. “Because you’ve been a naughty
little bride-to-be.”

“
No, please. I’m so
sorry,” I said.

“
I’m afraid you need to be
punished, angel. It’s time.”

I said, “Can’t you take the handcuffs off
first?”

“
No,” he said, “Sorry.” He
kissed my cheek. “I can’t have you squirming away. Then we’d have
this hovering over our heads for our entire lives, and I hope this
is a one-time only offense. And anyhow, I’m just fulfilling your
fantasy. This is that spanking you had imagined, the one you wrote
about in your blog. Now count with me, Madannika.”

He slapped my ass - hard.

I cried, “One!”

“
That’s for letting a
flaccid man lick your pinkie,” he said. “Shameful.” He slapped
again, harder than the first.

I cried, “Two!”

“
And that’s for taking a
girthless cock into your mouth,” he said. “What were you thinking?
Shame, shame.”
Slap!

I cried, “Three!”

“
That’s for thinking you
could have sex without the presence of a clean and healthy
pricker,” he said. “I can see your fascination with the Lesbos
connection, but come on! She was no Mila Kunis.” He smacked my ass
with full force once more. It stung worse than the time those wasps
stung me when I stepped in their ground nest while dancing around
the trellis in my parents’ backyard.

I cried, “Four!”

“
And
that
,” he said, “is for trying to
find someone else to punish your hoo-ha during our favorite time of
the month.”
Slaaaap!

I cried, “Five!”

“
And that’s the spank
you’re getting for believing that anyone else could give it to you
Greek-style. Oh, Dani. I hope you’ve learned something from
this.”

He kissed my reddened booty-boot.

“
If you’re referring to my
heart’s desire, I already know that I’ve found it with you, Zeus,”
I said. “I’ve always known.”

“
You just needed Madonna’s
guidance to make it clear, I know.” He began to rub the patchouli
lotion on my back end.

I said, “What about six?” He ignored my
question. Zeus Archimedes Zepkos reached for the key on the
nightstand and released me from the handcuffs. He kissed each wrist
then proceeded to rub them as well. The redness seemed to disappear
quickly. “So no sixth spank?”

He said, “I don’t think it’ll justify my
love. Do you?”

Zeus smiled. I smiled.
Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and we reclined on the bed.
Rounds two and three of cuntessa-kazoo fucky-wuck commenced. Then
we made googly eyes at each other and said
I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you
all
night long, until we fell asleep in each other’s arms. I know,
we’re toxic like that, but in a good way.

We’re getting married in two hours. Thank
you, Madonna, for making me a better fuckster. I promise never to
run away from happiness ever again because there’s no place like
you-know-where.

Comments: 1

You’re welcome.
Nonni, USA & UK

The End

ABOUT
MIA
NATASHA

Mia Natasha is a New York
based artist and fashion designer. She is the author of four erotic
novels published by Excessica –
Cinderella
Club
, a BDSM erotic romance, and its
sequel,
Cinderella
Thyme
;
Dr.
Cockburn’s Medicine
, a Halloween tale;
and
Jude’s Whore
,
a time travel story. Two more novels are set for later this
year.

Find her on Twitter as
mia_erotica and check out her blog at
http://mianatasha-erotica.blogspot.com
.

She welcomes fan mail at
[email protected].

If you enjoyed
Putting The Madge In Danna,
you might
also enjoy:

Jude’s Whore

By Mia Natasha

Twenty-four-year-old Mia Mandolyn follows
her football star boyfriend to Miami, Florida. A year later, the
relationship has fizzled and she is currently a high-priced whore
working for expensive clothes and Jimmy Choos, and living alone in
a studio apartment in Pompano Beach.

An encounter with a mysterious John on
Christmas Eve is about to change her life. Jude Remington is like
an anachronism in time - space and time, specifically. He intrigues
her from the start, warming her heart via an effervescent drink
followed by mind-altering sex.

Their union sends her on an unconventional
adventure of omnipotent proportion. Is she actually Mary Magdelene?
Can she rewrite history as a time traveler or has the paradox
already been established? Does Jesus really love her? Follow Mia as
she undertakes this unorthodox journey from skeptical sinner to
believer in the miracle of forgiveness, and in the power and gift
of love.

Warni
ng:
This book contains sex with Jesus
Christ, which some may find offensive. There is graphic language,
graphic descriptions of sex acts, oral and vaginal, and a rape
scene. There is also bondage and acts of drugging and
mind-control.

Excerpt From
Jude’s Whore:

She said, “There’s something about
you….”

“
Let’s talk in my hotel
room,” her client said, interrupting her and luckily, she thought,
before she let slip some asinine deal-breaking comment about his
angelic features. Romantic ideas were against the rules; she knew
that. “It is overlooking the ocean and I am quite certain that you
will be entertained by my proposition, Mia Mandolyn.” He downed his
second martini then signed his bar tab – Jude Remington, Room
1225.

Mia had not remembered
sharing her last name with him. A pang of fear shook her like a
heat rash. For months, she had lived her life as two different
people – good girl and bad girl, real and imagined, and the
prostitute had no last name. Her alter ego was like Madonna. She
needed to abort, right? It was scary to think that Jude Remington
knew the real woman behind the bravado. Had Trixie at the service
been seduced by his charm too somehow - tricked into breaking
security protocols?
Calm
down
, she thought as she looked at the
handsome man. He seemed nice. Mia reached into her Gucci clutch to
retrieve her keys, to use them as a weapon, as Trixie had
instructed her if things ever went sour with a John. She could
defend herself if necessary. She rose and immediately felt
light-headed. After only a few sips of liquor? Mia was hardly a
lightweight and yet she felt inebriated. How odd.

“
Come, Mia,” he said. “Let
me help you.”

Mia looked at her client again. He was
incredibly attractive despite the long, out-dated sideburns,
model-like but also rugged with a strong jaw-line and a friendly
smile. Younger than most, maybe thirty? And familiar in a strange,
soothing way. Had they ever met before in another life? It was
silly to think it, but it was possible. Had he been a customer of
hers at the mall last Christmas, buying last minute perfume as a
gift on Men’s Night? No, there were too many faces that night and
she would have remembered his. Had he gone to Marist too? Maybe
that was why he knew her name! She had been the girlfriend of a
star football player. Although far-fetched, this made the most
sense.

He seemed extremely well educated with his
grammar and elegant manner. The clothing though…the leather jacket
over a black turtleneck sweater and flared leg trousers of thin
wool…. The outline of an impressive hard cock rested beneath. Jude
Remington was not dressed for Miami, Florida. He was not even
dressed for this decade!

“
I don’t know,” she said
as she digested her assessment.

“
An eternity awaits, young
lady. Please, this way.”

Mr. Remington steered Mia by the arm in the
direction of the hotel lobby then to the elevator. She became very
passive in the comfort of his grip. Alone for the first time, he
kissed her. His breath had no scent, like a ghost, and his lips
were a powerful vacuum clinging to hers. His tongue danced over
hers offering salvation. Despite her misgivings, she wanted more.
She had not felt this way since before all this. Before the
whoring. Since that day when she had met Dax Meadows in a bar on
campus, that innocence mixed with passion that felt like home.
Breathless, Mia awaited her orders.

“
The effects of the potion
are working, are they not dear?” he said breaking their
union.

“
Potion?”

“
I have given you an
elixir, which shall help in the transition.”

“
From kiss to orgasm?” she
volleyed.

“
Indeed,” he chuckled.
“But I was referring to time and space.”

“
Mr.
Remington…”

“
Jude,” he said as he
brought his hand to her chin. “Mia, please, let us not be so
formal. Although I rather like your professionalism.”

They kissed again and Mia
felt that for the first time she would receive an orgasm from a
client before administering one. From the kiss alone, she
envisioned a torrid love affair rather than a simple Christmas fuck
– it was that powerful. What the hell was the matter with her? She
wanted him more than she had ever wanted Dax, and that was saying
something. Dax Meadows was the reason she was here in the first
place, for Christ’s sake! He and his rejection that had made her
feel so empty inside, until now. What the fuck? What was in that
drink? No, she would not blame alcohol on this. It was more like
wishful-thinking. For weeks, she had wished for a Christmas
miracle. Wished, prayed, whatever she wanted to call it, and she
decided to believe in the spirit of a dream. Maybe Jude
Remington
was
her
salvation like that fate gibberish her mother’s father used to
mumble. The elevator doors opened and her client nudged her towards
his room.

Mia had worked this hotel
before. Easy money, really, which made it hard to imagine quitting
prostitution or
retiring
as she had so eloquently referred to it in her
journal. The sex part of the evening frequently took up a nominal
portion of the
dates
for the most part. These rooms overlooking the ocean and
hotel pool were among her favorites, because she could sit out on
the balcony alone and relax as her clients slept off their orgasms.
Tonight the breeze from the open sliding glass door was
particularly spectacular. It tickled the sheer drapes into a
dance.

The familiarity made her feel safe again.
She could not remember why she had been agitated before. It seemed
silly. Knowing Jude Remington was all that mattered now. He placed
the key card on a silver tray alongside a magnum of champagne in an
ice bucket and two paper-wrapped glasses. Mia loved champagne.
Maybe they would toast to the baby Jesus and continue into the New
Year.

Mia tossed her keys onto the tray then sat
in the chair by the desk where a laptop lay open, holding her
clutch tightly in her lap. She tried to sneak a peek at the screen
as she asked, “What business brought you to Miami?”

He shut the laptop’s lid with his index
finger as he spoke. “I am a collector of sorts,” he said. “I have
come to collect you, finally.”

“
I don’t
understand.”

Mia thought that this was
some sort of British foreplay, both formal and mysterious. He
wanted to
collect her.
Was that code for something, like the equivalent to a notch
in a lipstick case - London style? She had not met many foreigners
bar the Latino fashion designers and her Croatian grandparents.
Jude Remington was a world traveler. Perhaps he collected the
international flavor of pussy?