A Christmas Proposal Read online

  A Christmas Proposal

  12 Naughty Days of Christmas

  Bethany Leigh

  Published by Blushing Books

  An Imprint of

  ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.

  A Virginia Corporation

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

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  ©2020

  All rights reserved.

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

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  Bethany Leigh

  A Christmas Proposal

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  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-64563-850-6

  v2

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  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  1. Dreaming of Discipline

  2. Plucking Up Courage

  3. A Cancelled Flight

  4. A Disastrous Dinner

  5. Spanking Dreams Come True

  6. Poking the Bear

  7. Engagement Party

  Bethany Leigh

  Blushing Books

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  1

  Dreaming of Discipline

  The pub was already heaving with revellers when Holly arrived. She pushed her way through the party crowd, hoping Erika had already snagged their usual table. She grinned when she spotted Erika waving wildly from the booth in the far corner of the pub, glass of wine already in hand. Erika could find the proverbial needle in a haystack, Holly thought, elbowing her way over to the table.

  “So many people in here,” Holly said as Erika rose to hug her.

  “That crowd will be gone soon. They’re having drinks here to fill in the time between work and their office Christmas party,” Erika answered. “I heard them talking about it.” She sat down and pointed to the bottle of white wine in the middle of the small round table. “I got us a bottle, save us trying to get to the bar again.”

  “Thanks.” Holly grabbed the empty glass and poured herself a wine. “Cheers,” she said, clinking glasses with Erika. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” Erika took a sip of wine and shifted on the green vinyl seat to get more comfortable. She was wearing a grey blouse and black skirt, which looked good with her deliberately tousled shoulder-length fair hair. Erika always looked immaculate, Holly thought, looking down at her own brown satin skirt as she shrugged off her coat. The skirt had looked fine when she’d left for work that morning. But she’d spilt coffee over it at lunchtime. And most of her dark hair had escaped its ponytail on the tube ride to the pub. Holly removed the scrunchie and shook her hair so it draped over her shoulders.

  She sat close to Erika so they could hear each other properly amid the strains of cheesy 1970s Christmas pop songs and the yelling of the office party crowd.

  “So, how are you?” Erika asked. “It’s been weeks since we saw each other. How are things?”

  “Not good actually,” Holly admitted.

  Erika quirked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “Jerome’s planning to propose. On Christmas Eve.”

  “Ah.” Erika bit her lower lip and frowned, as if working out how best to respond. “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good, because I love him.”

  “And bad because you haven’t told him about that thing we do yet?”

  “Or that thing we don’t do, in our case. But yes, you’re right. I still haven’t told him.” Holly sipped her wine and shifted in her seat.

  “You’re going to have to,” Erika said.

  “I know. But easier said than done.” Holly gulped her wine again.

  ‘That thing we do’ was a euphemism for ‘spanking’. Holly had fantasised about being spanked ever since she was a child. Initially, teachers and celebrities she’d crushed on had been her fantasy spankers, but since she’d been an adult, she’d fantasised about being taken over the knee of her boyfriend or – back in her first job, over a decade ago – her silver fox boss. But she’d never told anyone about it.

  Other than Erika.

  Holly fuelled her fantasies by reading spanking romances. One of her favourite authors was Georgia Burns, who wrote romances set in Victorian London, involving naughty maids who ended up over the knee of the handsome duke or butler. Holly liked Georgia’s books so much that she’d emailed her through her website telling her so, confessing that she would like nothing more than to be in a domestic discipline relationship with her boyfriend.

  A lively correspondence had begun, with Georgia admitting she was in a domestic discipline relationship in real life, and advising Holly that she needed to tell her boyfriend about her secret desire. As they’d kept writing, they’d discovered they both lived in London, and that they both worked in marketing and communications. After about five months of writing, they’d disclosed their real identities and Holly and Erika had met up for the first time, here at this pub, back in the summer.

  They were the same age – mid-thirties – working in the same field. Beyond that, though, their lives were very different. Holly had been dating Jerome for almost a year. They’d met at a New Year’s Eve party thrown by one of Holly’s workmates. Holly had been attracted to him straightaway. He was tall, with wavy red hair, prominent cheekbones and a cheerful smile. He was a travel writer and had been the life and soul of the party, entertaining everyone with his tales of overseas trips where nothing had gone smoothly.

  Holly and Jerome had ended up chatting, and he’d dropped her home at the end of the party. He’d asked her out on a New Year’s Day date, and they’d been together ever since.

  Erika and her husband Matt had been together since they met in their first year at university. They’d married ten years ago, Matt was a solicitor, and Erika now worked part-time, writing her spanking romances on her days off.

  “It’s okay for you,” Holly said sulkily. “Matt’s into it as much as you are and you’ve both known it from the start.”

  “Yes. I’m lucky,” Erika admitted.

  She and Matt had been chatting over coffee in her room on campus when he’d walked her home after their first date. She’d made a cheeky comment; he’d told her she deserved a spanking. Matt had taken her “You wouldn’t dare” response for the challenge she’d intended. Her trip across his knee that night had been the first of many.

  “Jerome’s never said even jokily that he’d like to spank me,” Holly said gloomily. “The closest he’s got is that he’d like to tie me to the bed.”

  “Oh?” Erika said. “That sounds promising.”

  “Yes, I thought that.” Holly lowered her voice. “I got all excited thinking ‘I’d like to tie you to the bed’ was going to end with ‘and give you a good spanking’. But no, he said ‘and tickle you with a feather.’”

  Erika snorted, spurting wine. “Sorry,” she said, wiping her mouth with a tissue. “I didn’t mean to laugh.”

  Holly grinned ruefully. “I know, right? Tickle me with a feather. I ask you!”

  “Anyway, back to this proposal,” Erika said. “How do you know he’s going to propose to you?”

  “Well, a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t find one of my rings,” Holly said. “I was going to a work function and it matched what I was wearing. I turned my jewellery box upside down looking for it, spent ages trying
to remember the last time I’d worn it, and eventually gave up and wore a different ring. Then last week, when I was looking for something else, I found it buried beneath some beads.”

  Erika refilled her wine glass. “Go on.”

  “Then last Saturday, Jerome and I met up to do our Christmas shopping together. Because of his trip to Bulgaria–”

  “He’s going to Bulgaria?”

  “Yes, he left on Sunday morning. He’s due back the day before Christmas Eve. Anyway, we arranged to meet at ten o’clock last Saturday morning, but I got there early. I was about to pop into Waterstones to buy a book for my dad, when I spotted Jerome going into a jeweller’s. He came out about five minutes later, looking very pleased with himself.”

  Erika grinned. “Sounds like he borrowed that ring from your box to make sure he got the size right.”

  “Yep. I didn’t say anything to him, but when we were having lunch at a café, I snuck a look in his jacket pocket when he went to the toilet. I found the little gift box. I didn’t open it, because I didn’t want to totally spoil the surprise.”

  “And of course, you may simply have mislaid the ring and he’s bought a necklace for his mum,” Erika pointed out.

  “Except when he left for the airport on Sunday morning, he told me to keep Christmas Eve free, because he’s taking me to Jonathan’s,” Holly finished triumphantly.

  “Jonathan’s. Hmm, now you’re talking. You’re right. He’s definitely going to propose,” Erika said.

  Jonathan’s was a swanky seafood restaurant by the River Thames, run by a former winner of the TV show, MasterChef. Holly had never eaten there and her eyes had widened when Jerome had said he’d booked it, as it was renowned for being ludicrously expensive.

  “Well, if we’re going to eat out on Christmas Eve, I thought seafood would be a nice change from all the turkey and Christmas pudding we’ll be gorging on for the rest of Christmas,” he’d told her.

  “Well, I’m in total agreement with you,” Erika said now, brushing imaginary crumbs from her immaculate skirt. “He’s going to propose. And you, my dear, are going to have to tell him about you-know-what.”

  “Oh, Erika, I can’t.”

  “Let me put it to you this way,” said Erika, “how’s your sex life? Satisfying?”

  Holly lifted her glass to her lips to hide her blushes. “He gives great tongue, I can’t deny that.”

  “There’s a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But when it comes to actual sex, I fantasise that I’m being spanked all the way through it. Honestly, I don’t think I’d have an orgasm if I didn’t fantasise.”

  “And has your desire for spanking decreased during the time you’ve been dating Jerome?”

  “No.” Holly twirled the stem of her wine glass before admitting, “It’s increased.”

  Her desire to be spanked made her restless rather than satisfied after sex with Jerome. Her clit throbbed every time she read a spanking scene in a domestic discipline novel. Sometimes the desire for Jerome to take her over his knee overwhelmed her so much that her heart ached.

  “It’s not going to go away, you know,” Erika said gently. “The desire is a part of you that’ll increasingly demand to be satisfied. If you’re going to say ‘yes’ to Jerome, then you need to tell him about it.”

  “And what if he recoils from me in horror?” It was Holly’s greatest fear, the reason the words stuck in her throat every time she’d considered mentioning the ‘s’ word to him. She picked up her glass and tilted it to drain her wine.

  “Then he’s not the right man for you. However much you might love him, if he can’t satisfy you that way then you’ll end up seeking it elsewhere.”

  Holly almost choked on her wine.

  “What?” Erika prompted.

  “I had been thinking of perhaps seeking out a disciplinarian,” Holly mumbled. “Someone I could see every week, confess my shortcomings to, and get the spankings I crave. It’s no different to seeing a personal trainer to get fit, or going to a therapist for any other kind of problem, is it?” she added defensively.

  “In some ways not, but wouldn’t you rather give Jerome the chance to satisfy your needs first?” Erika asked her. “What’s the worst he can say – no, he doesn’t want to spank you.”

  “He might look down on me.”

  Erika picked up the wine bottle and refilled Holly’s glass. “If he looks down on you, you’re not right for each other. You’re a kind, generous woman, you’re hard working, you’re a great friend. If he doesn’t want someone as awesome as you in his life because you like being spanked, then he doesn’t deserve you. Tell him. Tonight.”

  “He’s in Bulgaria, remember?”

  “So, email him. That way he has a chance to think it through before he proposes on Christmas Eve.”

  “If he still proposes.”

  “That’s his decision to make once he knows the real you. Be honest with yourself and with him, Holly, and find out whether he’s really the man for you. It’s better for it to end now, than in five years’ time when you have a couple of kids and you suddenly meet the man of your spanking dreams.”

  “You’re right,” Holly said. “I’ll do it.” She took a long slug of wine, as if to give her courage.

  “And you know what I’d do,” Erika said, “I’d give him some links as well, so you can show him what you’re talking about by wanting him to spank you. Some men think a spanking means a couple of slaps on the backside before sex. Give him links to your favourite online videos and stories, the ones that really turn you on.”

  Holly grimaced. This was really going to be mortifying if Jerome decided he wanted nothing more to do with her. “I’d better send him some of your books then,” she said. “They turn me on the most, they always have.”

  Erika rested her hand on Holly’s arm. “Let me give you two pieces of advice, though, Holly. One: introducing domestic discipline isn’t a one-way street. If he’s willing to give you what you want, you need to make sure you’re meeting his needs as well. Maybe you can manage kink that works for both of you; maybe involving bondage, spanking and a feather!”

  Holly laughed. “What’s the other piece of advice?”

  “Domestic discipline isn’t like the books I write or the blogs you’ve read. Jerome might be willing to give it a go, but he mightn’t take to it like the proverbial duck to water. Sex may not go through the roof just because you’ve got a sore bottom. And a real spanking doesn’t feel like it does in fantasy either, okay?”

  “It is worth trying, though, isn’t it?” Holly asked, alarmed. “I don’t want to risk losing Jerome if domestic discipline isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s well worth trying,” Erika assured her. “Just don’t expect a magic wand, you’ll both have to work at it. Matt and I have been doing this for years and we still get it wrong sometimes. Unlike in my books, where my men are perfect.”

  The noise in the pub suddenly decreased as the crowd around the bar headed off to their office party. Now the strains of Mud’s “Lonely This Christmas” filled the pub. Holly hoped it wasn’t an omen for when Jerome got the email and dumped her.

  “Drink up,” she said to Erika. “I’ll get us another bottle. If I’m going to finally ’fess up to Jerome, I’m going to need it.”

  2

  Plucking Up Courage

  Dear Jerome,

  First of all, I’m sorry that I’m telling you this by email. I should have told you in person a long time ago. But I find it difficult to talk about – in fact I’ve never told anyone I know about it before. But I think it’s important that you know this before our date at Jonathan’s on Christmas Eve.

  I am what’s known as a ‘spanko’ – someone who fantasises about being spanked and would like to be spanked in real life. But before you think I just want the occasional slap on the bottom before sex, you need to know that there’s a bit more to it than that.

  Ever since I can remember, I’ve longed to be span
ked by someone who truly cares for me. I yearn to be held accountable for my actions by someone who wants me to be the best that I can be.

  I’ve spent a lot of time online, reading people’s spanking blogs, watching YouTube videos by ‘spankos’, and I’ve also read a lot of spanking romance novels. I’ve actually become good friends with one of my favourite spanking writers, and we meet up occasionally, because she lives in London. I will provide some links at the end of this email, so you can find out a bit more about my desires and needs – should you want to, of course. I understand that this might put you off me completely. And if it does, I want you to have the opportunity to break off our relationship now, rather than suddenly finding out about it when we’re married.

  What I’m looking for in a relationship is called ‘domestic discipline.’ It means that one person takes the role of head of the household, establishes household rules, and then punishes the other person if a rule is broken.

  Of course, this doesn’t mean I’m asking you to come up with a set of arbitrary rules. I’m not looking for that at all. It means I want us to sit down together and work out what I need to work on, what things should be a spanking offence. But I do need you to spank me when I break those rules or don’t meet the standards set for me. And because I’ve never been spanked before, I’m guessing I might protest about it at the time, and beg you to stop. I am going to need you to ignore my protests and give me the punishment we both agree I need.

  I know this will come as a shock to you. But I’ve read enough to know that this deep desire is not something that is going to go away. Indeed, I’ve had this desire since I was a little kid, and if anything, it’s become more urgent and demanding as I’ve gotten older. In fact, I’ve thought about seeking out a disciplinarian to satisfy this side of me, but if anyone is to spank me, I really want it to be someone I love and who loves me.