Read The Spanked Wives Club Online
Authors: Trent Evans
The Spanked Wives Club
The Spanked Wives Club
Trent Evans
About This Book
The Spanked Wives Club was much more than a place. For an entire town, it was a way of life...
Moving to White Valley, a picturesque mountain town high in the Cascades of Washington state, seemed like a dream come true for Lacey. But as a strictly disciplined spanked wife, she knew there was always a catch when it came to anything her husband Troy wanted. Alpha male right down to his bones, it wasn't always easy toeing the line for her darkly handsome Lord and Master. Nothing came without complications — or a well-spanked bare bottom.
And Lacey wouldn't have it any other way.
For the ex-Ranger Hunter, agreeing to visit Troy's new town wasn't exactly a hard decision. Isolated, alpine beauty, a sleepy resort lifestyle, and a chance to see both his best friend and his curvy, gorgeous wife. A few days wouldn't kill him, right? But what Troy had neglected to tell him was that the town was much more than met the eye. Could Hunter really only visit for a short time, when it became plain that life in the close-knit community was something straight out of a spanko's deepest, darkest fantasy? Sure, in Lacey and Troy's marriage, it was always crystal clear whom the head of household was — Troy gave the orders, and Lacey obeyed them. Exploring a place like White Valley was just the start though, for Troy wanted his best friend to explore the possibility of something much more intimate ... and the bewitching Lacey did too.
A D/s marriage was one thing, but how would it work when an entire
town
followed that same strict — and seductive — way of life?
Submerging himself into both the town's alluring, sensual ethos, and the highly sexual dance of pain and pleasure of Troy and Lacey's deep BDSM dynamic might prove more than even the tough and adventurous Hunter could handle.
But outside forces threaten to expose the dark history — and perhaps present — of White Valley, and the new bonds of three between Hunter, Lacey, and Troy might soon be tested in ways none of them could ever be prepared for.
Publisher's Warning:
Intended for mature readers. 18 and over only!
Contains MFM menage, pervasive BDSM themes, and sexual situations.
NOTE:
There is no sexual interaction between the males in this story.
Also By Trent Evans
Published by Shadow Moon Press
The Chronicles of Muurland Series:
The Dominion Trust Series:
The Spanked Wives Series:
The Spanked Wives Club
Published By Stormy Night Publications
The Doctor and The Naughty Girl
What The Doctor Ordered (Box set)
Copyright © 2015 by Trent Evans
All rights reserved.
Cover Design by Rachel A Olson at
No Sweat Graphics
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and as such, any similarity to existing persons, places or events must be considered purely coincidental.
This book contains content that is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.
For mature readers only.
Published in the United States by Shadow Moon Press, Washington.
First Shadow Moon Press Electronic Edition: August 2015
Prologue
T
he heavy leather strap cracked against the pale, plump buttocks, leaving behind a scarlet line of pain, the reddened cheeks clenching in time with a forlorn, feminine groan.
“You know better than to tighten that bottom, dear,” Martin said, his fingertips testing the already swelling mark his stroke had left across her flesh. “Just a few more now, and we can be done with this unfortunate business. Be glad we don’t have time for you join those other disobedient women in their corners.”
The smooth, varnished wood of the angled bench creaked as Martin’s wife, Brooke, stirred, her hips waving in the air as she tried to process the sting and burn of the punishment currently being meted out by her loving, but stern, husband. Her rich evening dress, the same color as her raven hair, was bunched up at the small of her back, her black lace panties pulled down her legs as far as the stout strap that ran across her thighs would allow. Bound tightly over the apparatus of punishment — one most homes in the very unique community of White Valley were equipped with — the attractive brunette had little choice but to await Martin’s further judgment.
He tapped the dark leather against his palm. “Next time, what will you be doing when you think it’s all right to spend just a
little
bit more on clothing you don’t really need?”
Brooke’s small voice sounded from the other side of the bench. “Calling you, Sir.”
“That’s right.” Martin whistled in another stroke, the leather landing with a satisfying smack, Brooke crying out for the first time as another thick line darkened upon her already well-marked rump.
“How many more?” Martin asked, glancing over his shoulder at the three men sitting behind the long, cherry wood table that lined one wall of the cozy study. Another common feature of most of the studies or offices in the community, these tables were where the Session sat — and where the women first presented themselves to hear what punishment the men of the Session intended to mete out for their misdeeds. Such informal gatherings were a weekly occurrence in most neighborhoods of White Valley, though the specific attendance of one couple or the next was strictly reserved for the judgment of each particular head of household.
Troy gladly hosted the Session today, his deep excitement at the array of punished females currently decorating his study — including his own beloved wife — was something that would never grow old.
“She’s got two more to go, then her dozen is paid off,” Keenan said, his long finger tapping the page of the large, open book before him on the gleaming tabletop. Sitting to Troy’s left, Keenan consulted the cloth-bounder ledger, nodding as he did so. “She’s the last for today. Too bad.”
Brooke Shafer, like any other woman required to appear at a Session, was expected to bring her Infractions Ledger with her — and woe betide the girl who forgot it.
Martin didn’t respond, instead turning his attention back to his well-disciplined wife, laid bare upon the spanking bench before everyone. He stroked her hip gently, tapping the thick length of the strap against her buttocks as if to measure his aim. Brooke stilled, surely knowing what was coming.
One stroke, than another, even harder this time, splatted against her martyred bottom, the last blow drawing a tight shriek from the woman. Lacey, standing in the corner between a wooden filing cabinet and a tall armoire, jerked at the sound of Brooke’s anguish, her own bottom still glowing an angry rose after her stiff paddling at Troy’s own hand only minutes earlier. Troy would never tire of looking upon his wife’s generously curved bottom currently bared to the onlookers courtesy of her floral-patterned sundress bunched in her hands at the small of her back, her white panties at half mast, stretched across her slightly spread thighs. He thought, even from this distance, that he could just detect the hint of glistening moisture between the close-lipped labia quite visible at the juncture of her pale, shapely legs.
Laying the strap upon the crest of his wife’s swollen, inflamed bottom, Martin caressed her gently, bending over her bound form and whispering to her, the faint sounds of her soft weeping drifting over to the men seated at the table. Once he’d calmed her, Martin snatched up the strap and brought it back to the table, laying it neatly upon the table, fixing the watching men with a bright, toothsome smile, his well-groomed dark hair shiny with pomade. Rolling the sleeves of his white dress shirt back down muscled forearms, Martin nodded back toward his still-bound wife.
“I’m afraid we need to sneak out early, gentleman. Brooke and I still have an engagement to keep this evening.”
“You really didn’t tell her?” Von asked, leaning back in his chair, a wry smile curving his lips. “You’re a cruel bastard, Martin.”
Pulling on a fitted suitcoat the color of slate, Martin shrugged, buttoning his cuffs. “There’s a lot to be said for keeping these women on their toes. We’ve still got plenty of time for dinner — it just won’t be as early as she might have guessed.”
“And she’ll be taking it on a roasted backside too.” Keenan said, his eyes glittering.
Martin took up the strap, handing it to Keenan. “Appreciate letting me borrow it. Need to get one made for Brooke one of these days. I’m sure Amy doesn’t like sharing it with the others.”
“Amy will share anything if I tell her to,” Keenan said quietly.
The men glanced over at Keenan’s wife, laid atop the broad plane of Troy’s office desk. Her hands, bound in heavy metal cuffs at the middle of her back stirred only slightly, as if she were lost in thought. Her bottom was decorated with a veritable storm of thin red lines painted over smooth buttocks flushing a congested pink, the aftermath of the stiffest birching Troy had seen meted out in quite some time. Between those punished cheeks, the rectangular base of a very thick polished steel plug could clearly be seen.
Troy had been positive such a large toy could not possibly fit into Amy’s tight bottom, but the men had watched in aroused silence as Keenan proceeded to prove just how well he’d trained the woman who was both his wife, and slave. The man had been as patient as he was relentless, working Amy’s well-lubricated anus until the plug finally sank fully home, her breathing reduced to panicked pants.
A mute buzzing sounded and Von dug in the pockets of his slacks for his phone, cursing as he stared at the screen, his thumb flicking quickly through the texts.
Troy and Keenan watched Martin lead Brooke from the room, the man giving them a deeply satisfied smile as he ushered his wife before him, the woman transformed from weeping penitent to the elegant beauty she was, her dress restored to the classy attire of a woman about to go out on the town. Only Brooke’s stiff gait betrayed the no-doubt still throbbing buttocks rolling under the form-fitting black dress.
“Cori giving Lee trouble again?” Keenan chuckled. “I knew it. She’s too old for him.”
Von winced, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “They can’t make it. She’s refusing — again. Lee said she and her friends joke about the Sessions — they call it the ‘Spanked Wives Club.’ I think it’s time she goes before a full Session — but that’s up to Lee. We’ll talk about it later.” With a sigh, Von looked over at Troy. “You asked me here even though Celina didn’t need to come to this week’s little, uh, get together. So what’s the big deal? Spill it.”
“Wanted to talk to both of you, actually.” Troy said. “It’s about my friend, Hunter.”