Spank or Treat 2014 Read online

  “What kind of spells have you done previously?”

  Mercy fingered an example of a paddle on the table and smiled. “I’ve done replication spells before and a few activities based ones. You know, giving life to inanimate objects and that sort of thing.”

  “Good. That’s what I’m looking for here as well. We need to take the base material-- wood or rubber and craft a paddle that will do what the customer asks.”

  Mercy nodded. “Okay.”

  “Why don’t you give it a try? Make a wooden paddle like this one here.” Charity pointed to a wooden paddle painted with flowers.

  “That’s pretty.”

  “It’s one of our more popular models actually.”

  Mercy lowered her head and nibbled on her lip. “So do you need to watch me do it?”

  Charity narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Um, I’m shy?” Mercy fiddled with the bottom of her shirt and stared at the floor.

  “I know you’re probably nervous. How about I watch from the window into the workshop? Would that help?”

  Mercy nodded, relief sweeping across her features.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Charity moved toward the door, but turned back. “Don’t blow anything up, okay?”

  “No. Absolutely not.” The girl shook her head, her movements jerky and odd.

  Oh boy. I’ve hired a nut.

  “I’ll be right outside.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chapter Four

  Mercy sucked in a breath and held it as Charity walked out the door. If she wasn’t watching there was a chance she might get it right without her usual side effects.

  Maybe.

  Her fingers tingled as she ran them over the wooden paddle, letting the energy of the object leave its signature. Mercy’s stomach clenched and her palms began to sweat.

  “Goddess grant me

  Power to see

  The witch I’m truly

  Supposed to be.

  Grant my boon

  All quarters call

  Morning noon

  With evening’s pall

  Make this paddle

  And only this.

  Seek no mischief

  But magical bliss.”

  The paddle rose into the air, a purple glamour surrounding it. Mercy sighed as the warmth seeped from the center of her body. Her lips parted in desire as her fingers tingled with blue fire.

  “Now.”

  The paddle duplicated. But it didn’t stop there. A dozen more erupted from the air, clattering loudly onto the wooden table. Painted with lovely blue wisps of flowers and green the implements rested where they landed.

  A burst of heat rolled through Mercy as her body was consumed by sexual desire. It was always this way. Magic kindled a fire deep inside of her that couldn’t be assuaged. She’d tried everything. The best she could hope for was a job where she could perform her spells in private where others might savor the magic that drove her into an orgasm every time she used it.

  Not exactly something a girl could put on a resume.

  “Goddess!” Flames grew under her skin and her nipples tightened. Her channel slickened and she slapped her hands on the table as the wave of orgasm from the power exploding inside of her moved through her body.

  As Mercy touched the table her mind conjured up the first thought in her head and it fell from the air, landing in the middle of the paddles.

  Meet Erzabet Bishop

  Thank you all for spending time with us for Spank or Treat 2014. I'm Erzabet Bishop and I write many different kinds of erotic romance and urban fantasy. In my story Charity Benshaw's Enchanted Paddle Emporium you'll get to meet Charity, a witch with a penchant for paddles and Mercy a witch with malfunctioning magic. When Mercy gets hired on to be Charity's new assistant, all kinds of spellbound mischief will ensue. This is the beginning of a novella that will be sent off to Breathless Press as soon as it is complete.

  I hope you enjoy the story. Check out some of my other new releases.

  Wicked Things (anthology) coming October 2014 from Ylva

  Written on Skin: A Sigil Fire Short coming October 2014 from Ylva

  Sweet Seductions (collection) coming November 2014 from Ladylit

  Unwrap these Presents (anthology) coming December 2014 from Ylva

  Coming Together: For the Holidays coming December 2014 from Coming Together

  About the author:

  Erzabet Bishop has been crafting stories since she could pound keys on her parents’ old typewriter. She has only just learned that it is a whole lot more fun writing naughty books. She is a contributing author to the Silk Words website with her Fetish Fair, Gingerbread Dreams, Holiday Cruise and Temptation Resorts interactive romances, Sci Spanks 2014 Anthology, Potnia, A Christmas To Remember, Taboo II, Forbidden Fruit, Club Rook: The Series, Sweat, Bossy, Cougars, Spank or Treat, When the Clock Strikes Thirteen, Wicked Things, Unwrap these Presents (upcoming), Unbound Box, Milk & Cookies & Handcuffs, Holidays in Hell, Corset Magazine: Sex Around the World, Vaginas and Vulvas, Man vs. Machine: The Sex Toy Issue, Smut by the Sea Volume 2, Hell Whore Volume 2, Can’t Get Enough, Slave Girls, The Big Book of Submission, Hungry for More, Gratis II, Gratis III, Anything She Wants, Dirty Little Numbers, Kink-E magazine, Eternal Haunted Summer, Coming Together: Girl on Girl, Shifters and Coming Together: Hungry for Love among others. She is the author of Lipstick (upcoming), Dinner Date, Tethered, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection (upcoming), Red Moon Rising (upcoming), Red Boots (upcoming),Pomegranate (upcoming), Sigil Fire, Written on Skin: A Sigil Fire Short, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation. Erzabet was a finalist for the GCLS 2014 awards in two separate categories. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.

  Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.

  Links:

  Wix: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop

  Facebook “like” page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor

  Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6590718.Erzabet_Bishop

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/erzabet.bishop

  Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/erzabetbishop/

  The Special Ingredient by Geonn Cannon

  Winnie Cabot woke up at half past four every morning. She liked working before the sun came up and acting as if she was racing the day. It was fall so she had two full hours before the sun beat down on her, but she still opened her door at six sharp. She showered and changed into her outfit for the day, black slacks and an orange sweater, then began preparing. Her cookie recipe was not much different than everyone else’s: butter, sugar, vanilla extract, eggs, and so on. The thing that kept people coming back to her bakery was the secret family ingredient that she didn’t advertise.

  She remembered sitting in the kitchen with her mother and grandmother, learning with her sisters how to make the recipe for the first time. The old book was propped up on the island next to the cutting board where her mother added ingredients to a huge wooden mixing bowl. She loved its pages, the parchment and the aged ink. “There’s no such thing as a love spell,” her mother told her. “Anyone who says differently is a cheater and a con artist. This doesn’t create anything. This just opens someone’s eyes to something they might otherwise ignore.” She added a dash of fine powder and a rich, welcoming aroma rose from the batter.

  Cabot women had lived on the island for many generations, and through every generation they kept their small bakery near the bridge. Commuters came by on their way off the island while tourists came in on their way to see the sights. Winter wasn’t exactly a booming time for business, but they still had a steady stream of customers. Some of them went for the traditional pumpkin spice everything
- cupcakes, cookies, coffee - but her Harvest Cookies were always hot sellers as well. She was disappointed when the people who took one of the special cookies left the store and rejoiced when they took a seat and enjoyed the cookie where she could surreptitiously watch.

  A few days earlier she had watched a married couple sit across from each other with mutually exhausted indifference. As the man ate his cookie, however, he started staring at the woman across from him. Halfway through the cookie he reached out and rested his hand on top of his wife’s. By the time the cookie was gone they were laughing and leaning close to each other like newlyweds. Winnie gave herself a mental pat on the back for that.

  She didn’t know how many of her cookies resulted in a successful romantic encounter, or how many ignored the effects until they faded away. All she could do was open the door; they had to walk through it on their own.

  The first batch was ready. She always prepared the first batch of the day in her oven at home. It was antique, handed down through the years, and it was steeped in the history of every Cabot that came before. It was a symbolic step to tie that day’s cookies with every one that came before. She carefully placed the cookies in a basket, covered them with a cloth that she tucked into the sides to hold in the fresh-from-the-oven warmth, and carried them out to her car.

  Jennifer and Bailey were already setting up the bakery when she arrived. She greeted them both and placed her basket of cookies on the counter. She adjusted the handmade sign - “HARVEST COOKIES - 2 for $1” - and went into the back to help Jennifer start setting everything up.

  The first Harvest Cookie sold to their first customer of the day. He left before she could witness the results, but the day was early. The sun was just starting to add colors to the sky when someone bought a cookie and carried it with her coffee to one of the window seats. Winnie divided her attention between customers and the woman with the cookie, watching as she brought it up to her perfectly curved lips and bit off a small portion. She chewed carefully, almost thoughtfully, as she scrolled on her phone. The woman was very red, her hair and her dress were only slightly different hues, and she blended well with the orange leaves out the window.

  The woman took another bite, then looked away from her phone to examine the cookie. She licked a crumb from the corner of her mouth and glanced up. Winnie was caught looking and knew that shifting her gaze would only make her look guilty, so instead she smiled widely and lifted her hand in a meek greeting.

  “Hi. Can I help you with something?”

  The woman stood and walked up to the counter. She lifted the cookie and gestured at it with her chin. “What did you put in this?”

  “Secret family recipe. I can’t disclose that, Miss...?”

  “Solomon. Victoria.” She rested her free arm on the counter between them, still holding the cookie up like a court exhibit. “You put something in here. Some sort of... spell.” For the last word she dropped her voice to a whisper, just barely breathing it out.

  Winnie tried not to react. “I... don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Arwyn. Uh. Winnie. People just call me Winnie.”

  Victoria stepped around the counter and took Winnie’s arm, moving her into the small room off the kitchen. There was a sink with a smudged mirror, and a mop stood in a bucket in the corner like a sentry guarding the other janitorial supplies. Victoria took another bite of the cookie and held Winnie’s eyes as she chewed. Her eyes were bright green, speckled with streaks of gold. Winnie swallowed nervously. If this woman was a health inspector or with the FDA, and if she suspected there was something harmful in the cookie...

  “There’s a spell,” Victoria said quietly. “You put a spell in this cookie.”

  “I... I don’t...”

  Victoria smiled knowingly. There was something sly and catlike in the expression. “Mind-altering spells in your cookies?” She clucked her tongue. “People could get very irate if this sort of thing got out. You could lose your bakery.”

  Winnie said, “I’m just trying to brighten people’s day. It doesn’t alter them, it just--”

  “Sh. Turn around. Put your hands on the sink.” Winnie furrowed her brow. “Do it, or I’ll go out there and tell everyone you’re slipping something into their cookies.”

  Winnie turned around and placed her hands on the metal rim of the sink. Victoria snaked one arm around Winnie’s waist, her palm flat against the belt buckle, and she pressed herself hard against Winnie from behind. The cookie, half-eaten, appeared in front of her. “Have you ever tasted your own spell? Hm? Give it a try. Take a big bite.”

  The cookie brushed against her bottom lip, pulling her mouth open, and she took as big a bite as she could muster. She chewed carefully, holding her breath as Victoria slowly undid her belt.

  “Are you scared?” Victoria whispered.

  Winnie’s mouth was full, so she shook her head no.

  “Good. This is what you get for tricking your customers, for spelling them against their will. Your mentor should have told you that was a big no-no.” She pushed Winnie’s slacks down to her thighs, and her underwear quickly followed suit. Winnie’s breath was coming hard and fast, and she looked at her reflection in the mirror as she slowly chewed her mouthful of cookie. Victoria’s hand skimmed the outside of Winnie’s thigh, up over the curve of her ass, and their eyes met in the mirror.

  “Tell me you’re...” She slapped the flat of her hand against Winnie’s right cheek, startling her into a high-pitched yelp. “...sorry.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Will you ever do it again?”

  She bit her lip. The recipe was the family tradition, hundreds of years of ritual. “Yes.”

  Victoria clucked her tongue and swatted her again. “Naughty little witch.”

  Winnie whimpered and curled her fingers against the metal of the sink. Victoria swatted her again and Winnie arched her back.

  “Count.” She swatted the other cheek.

  “One...”

  Two more swats. “From the beginning.”

  “Oh.... oh, um.” She furrowed her brow and closed her eyes. “S-six?”

  “Good girl.” She ran her palm in wide circles over the red cheeks. “You know you brought this on yourself. I never would have had the courage to walk up here and take the initiative like this if you hadn’t doped me with your cookies. Ironic, don’t you think?”

  “Mm.”

  Another spank. “I asked you a question.”

  “Y-ye-hess.”

  Another. “I also told you to count.” Another swat.

  “Nine.”

  “Wrong. That was eight. This is nine.” She swatted, and then again.

  “Ten,” Winnie moaned.

  “Good witch.” She leaned in and kissed Winnie’s neck, moving up to her jaw. Winnie turned, her lips open and eager when Victoria found them. They kissed hungrily as Victoria pressed against her, thrusting rhythmically as she pushed her tongue into Winnie’s mouth. Winnie took the risk of moving one hand from the sink and reaching back, gripping Victoria’s hip. They pressed tightly together through the kiss, and then Winnie let her go and sank down onto her elbows. She could only see the top of her head in the mirror, but she could see Victoria’s whole upper body.

  Victoria ran her eyes over Winnie, slipping one hand under her sweater and then back down to her hip. She raked her fingernails over the sensitive flesh of Winnie’s ass, and Winnie shivered enthusiastically.

  “Are you sorry you doped your cookies?”

  Hell no. “No.”

  Victoria sighed. “I may have to punish you if you do it again.”

  Winnie pouted her bottom lip out and wiggled her ass. Victoria tried to hide a smirk as she spanked Winnie’s pale-pink ass cheek again. “I meant what I said,” Victoria whispered. “I’m stunned I’m doing this. If I crossed the line, I am so sorr--”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Winnie interr
upted. “It will never happen again. I swear.”

  Victoria nipped Winnie’s earlobe, then brushed her hand over her hip with a satisfied “Hmm.” Winnie straightened up and gently tugged her underwear back up over her tingling buttocks. When Victoria smoothed down the front of her dress, her eye was caught by something on the table. She smiled as she picked it up. “Well. Look at this.”

  “That’s my wooden spoon.”

  “I know.” Victoria held it in front of her face and patted it lightly against her lips. She raised an eyebrow and pressed a kiss to the cup of the spoon. “There are so many things I could do with a wooden spoon. Hm...”

  “Are you going to take it?” Winnie asked.

  Victoria slipped the spoon into her back pocket. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it back.” She walked to the door, moments away from slipping out of Winnie’s life forever.

  “Hey, Vic.”

  Victoria looked at her.

  “Next time you come by to check on me, the Harvest Cookies are on the house.”

  Victoria grinned, blew her a kiss, and slipped out into the main room again. Winnie ran the water in the sink, carefully splashed some water on her face without ruining her makeup, and reached back to run a hand over the curve of her ass. It was still a little sore. She took a steadying breath and went to the door, hoping she could focus on work for the rest of the day.

  Geonn Cannon is the author of over twenty novels, as well as numerous short stories which can be found for free at his website (geonncannon.com). The first time he traveled out of his home state was to attend the 2004 Stargate convention in Vancouver. He lives in Oklahoma.

  All’s Well That Ends Well by Carole Cummings

  All right.

  Fine.

  It wasn’t all that bad, really. Other people had worse days, he supposed. People, for instance, who got eaten by wolves or sat upon by a troll or some such, though Lucas wouldn’t be terribly surprised to see either wolf or troll—or both—show up at his door in the next… how many more hours were left of this never-ending day? Probably seventy-two, the way his luck was running.