L is for Lust and Laughter


L is for Lust and Laughter

I once wrote a story about a woman who was sucked into a really bad b-flick movie specifically so that I could write a spanking romance around massive man-eating spiders. 🙂


I am a big fan of odd.

The next thing Audrey knew, her living room was gone and she was behind the wheel of a truck. A big truck. Old, with no suspension, she realized as she bounced along the unpaved road at what had to be no more than thirty miles an hour. It was hard to tell really, since the inside of the dash was entirely unlit and only one headlight on the driver’s side illuminated the quickly passing wooded landscape to either side of her.“What the hell?” she said.

The truck hit a rut and Audrey grabbed the wheel as the vehicle bounced precariously out of the center of the narrow road and headed for the trees. There was also no power steering, and she had to crank the wheel hard to get the truck back on the road, accidentally over-correcting. The back half of the unfamiliar vehicle fish-tailed on the gravel, and Audrey screamed, yanking on the steering column to keep from driving clean off the road and crashing into the woods. Her feet stomped the floor, searching for the brakes and finding the clutch instead, and–oh my God–it was a manual drive!

The truck swerved wildly back towards the road, and she screamed again as she pulled the wheel back to the right. The vehicle came grudgingly back under control, and once more she found herself following that unpaved road in the unfamiliar truck, wide-eyed and panting, one foot still stomping for the brakes, although with a little less panic now that she was no longer fish-tailing.

Right up until the hairy eight-legged, six-foot-high spider dashed across the road right in front of her single headlight, then Audrey panicked all over again.

Humor goes well in every genre of novel in existence. Wait a minute, you say, that’s more horror than humor. Trust me, if you’d read the book, you’d probably have got a giggle or two out of it.

People like to read things that make them laugh; that’s why we have comedy. A little comedy thrown into a drama or a horror scene can cut the tension so the reader can take a breath, relax a little and completely recharged to be tearful or horrified all over again while you ramp the drama and horror up to the next level. This is from Black Sheep.

Leverton dropped the brick at the same time Elspeth flattened herself to what ground remained around the hole that had appeared directly beneath her feet, her arms flailing wildly to catch hold of something—anything—as the ominous sound of stone striking and bouncing on stone echoed up from a fair distance below.

“Leverton!” she squeaked and slid backwards, her fingers raking deep furrows in the earth as she sank into the hole all the way to her chest.

He threw himself after her, scrambling to catch her reaching hands and clasping tightly onto her wrist a bare second before her shoulders fell into the mouth of the hole. Her other hand flailed wild and free for half a second before she managed to latch onto his arm. The full weight of her suddenly dangled at the end of his arm as, with another ominous, splintering crack, the hole widened again, swallowing the rest of her all the way up to his shoulders.

“Good Lord,” he grunted, his legs splaying for balance in the grass and his other hand frantically searching for stability along the ragged edge of the hole. “What have you been eating?”

This is from a different book, by the way, but when it comes to sex and smut and, in particular, to spanking smut, humor is an author’s absolute best friend.


I got my husband one of theses for Christmas one year. True story. He won’t wear it.

Nice snake, you say, but what does this have to do with sex, humor and/or spanking romances? Everything, I tell you. Sex, even when done right, isn’t perfect and leaves a lot of room for humor. He could be on her hair; they could fall off the bed; in the sweaty, hot slickness of a truly passionate scene, their skin sliding together could make a really rude noise. Well, the same could happen in a spanking scene. Imagine two people, getting into it. Perhaps they’re new to spanking, just beginning to figure it all out until…he accidentally tangles in her hair, or they fall off the bed, and wet pussies make a lot of mortifying sounds especially when the spanking starts getting hot.


My point is, spanking, like sex, doesn’t have to be perfect to be…well, perfect. Humor is often the vehicle that takes what might otherwise be your as-good-as-every-other spanking scene and turns it into something memorable. No one seems to know this as well as spanking author, Rollin Hand.

‘The Friday Night Bridge Club’ is a book of some of the funniest short spanking stories I think I’ve ever read. My favorite has to be Love’s Passionate Frenzied Fury, the second in the book. In this story, the woman, a budding writer, asks her husband for help.

“So how can I help dear?” he said smoothly. He hoped this wouldn’t take too long.

“It’s my latest novel, Love’s Furious Passionate Frenzy. You see I’ve reached a bit of a writer’s block and I need help. I am finding it difficult to understand my own heroine, get into her head, as it were.”

Understandable, thought Arthur. Nobody can figure out what’s in a woman’s head, not even another woman. “But I don’t know anything about damsels in distress or whatever it is, dear.”

“You don’t have to. You just need to help me understand her.”

Arthur was now totally confused and Eleanor could see it on his face. “No, well, you see Miss Cadivec, my creative writing teacher, always says that we have to live the lives of our characters, to experience what they do, and well, I need to actually be her to know how it feels.”

“How what feels? To have the buttons on your blouse popped off? I think not. Your clothes are expensive as it is.”

“No, no, not that. It’s ah…a bit more intimate.”

Arthur was now a little more interested. Eleanor was a very attractive woman and to tell the truth, things had been slipping in the bedroom department lately. Arthur was always busy at work and Eleanor had her hobbies. They were drifting, it seemed.

“Well, you see, Miss Cadivec says that, ah…spankings are very popular in romance novels nowadays, and so I thought I’d work one into the plot. I have it all figured out. My heroine, Daisy is an English princess captured by Thorgar, the Viking, as a slave– only he falls in love with her and when they get back to Thorgar’s castle he wants to marry her only she runs away, against his express authorization, I might add, and he is very angry and when he catches up with her he decides to give her a good spanking…”

It was making Arthur’s head swim. Daisy? What kind of name was that? And if she’s a slave, of course she is forbidden to run away. Spankings? For grown women? Did Vikings do that? He’d always thought that Viking discipline usually involved something with an ax in it.

“…and so he puts her over his knee, tosses up her skirts and spanks her, right on the bottom!”

“It all sounds very intriguing dear but where do I come in?”

“Arthur, haven’t you been listening? I need to live Daisy, to be Daisy. I need a Thorgar.”

Arthur processed this for a minute. “You want me to spank you?”

“Yes. Yes. Precisely. I don’t know what that feels like. I can’t write about Daisy unless I know, you see. I need to have an authentic experience.”

This was too much. Arthur had to laugh. “Do I have to wear one of those horned helmets?”

Eleanor pouted. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

“Sorry, dear, but your request is a bit odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Eleanor remained firm. “Miss Cadivec says it is quite common in romances, historical or otherwise, and I should embrace the idea if I’m to write about it.”

“Hmm,” said Arthur. “All right, but how do we do this? I’ve never spanked anybody before.”

Eleanor brandished a sheaf of papers. “Here is what I’ve written so far. Just read it and speak Thorgar’s dialog. I’ll be Daisy.”

Arthur squinted at the page. “What ho, Glondorf, are the the thralls secured in their bindings? Odin sends a fair wind, I’ll warrant!”

“No. No. Not there. The next page. Here,” she said pointing.

Ok. There it was. “I think perhaps I must needs teach you a lesson, wench. You sorely try my patience.”

Eleanor reads, “You brute. My father will hear of your mistreatment of me. He will bring an army to rescue me.”

“Ha ha! Before he arrives I will have tamed you, you tawny vixen.” Tawny vixen? What drivel! Who reads this stuff?

Eleanor throws her arm across her forehead and turns away. “Unhand me you Viking oaf!”

Then the page was blank. “What now?” said Arthur.

“Now you put me over your knee and spank me; then I write the rest of it.”

Now, if I wasn’t so sure Rollin Hand might object, I would totally write out the rest of this first spanking scene. I was lying in bed last night reading this book and this story had me smirking, then giggling, then laughing out loud until my husband, who admittedly was trying to sleep, rolled over and took my Kindle away. I only got it back to write this one article because I said I needed to work. Apparently, I’m grounded from reading. I didn’t even know he could do that.


If you are unfamiliar with Rollin Hand, I highly recommend starting with this book. And I say “starting” because, unless you get grounded from reading too, then you are going to want to read everything this author has ever put out.

20941148Seven short stories are featured in this collection of spanking erotica. At nearly 25,000 words these seven stories feature the lighter side of spanking, but still contain enough steamy disciplinary action to please the most demanding spankophile.

The Friday Night Bridge Club–an art forgery case that probes the curious rituals of a ladies’ bridge club provides an insurance investigator with an experience he’ll never forget.

Love’s Passionate Frenzied Fury— a budding romance writer must experience her artistic creations, must to her husband’s delight.

Vale vs. Connor—a man and several swimsuit models are stranded on a jungle island. The girls agree to obey the man’s rules in order to survive, all except for one.

Elm Street USA—the 1950’s as portrayed on TV was a gentle idyllic time, right? Why is it those kids were so well behaved?

The Marriage Mentors of Maple Lane—an older experienced couple in a neighborhood of newlyweds teach the secrets of marital harmony.

Scavenger Hunt—a writer in a college town is besieged by sorority coeds once too often.

Bermuda Triangle—Navy aviators stranded on an island of beautiful women teach the natives a new method of enforcing tribal rules, with some unintended consequences.

Enjoy the rest of your reading, and don’t forget to Click here to check out the other amazing authors participating in the A to Z Blog Hop going on all through June! 🙂

4 thoughts on “L is for Lust and Laughter

  1. Hi Mrs Smith, when i read your books aloud to my Dom he always laughs at the banter you write between your characters! Humour really does make a book enjoyable, it can show a softer side to a stern Master for instance. Oh & i love Rollin Hand my kindle is full of his books, although i’ve missed a few of his new ones due to buying your books 🙂

  2. I love the humor in your stories, Maren! 🙂
    Rollin sounds funny too, now after this scene.
    BTW, I read B-Flick last year, and cracked up a ton. I loved the repeating scenes!

  3. That was hilarious, Marin! And I love Rollin’s stories. Sometimes I wish I could read more than I write. There are so many books on my kindle and so little time.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: