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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Calling the Plays by Marlee Wray – Extended Preview

Calling the Plays by Marlee Wray – Extended Preview

Meghan had settled more easily into a relationship with Dean than she would ever have thought possible. It might have been because he had the steadiest character of anyone she’d ever met. So many of her other boyfriends had run hot and cold. And when they were moody, they’d sometimes taken it out on her by making her feel unwanted or unloved. Dean, on the other hand, never wavered. She always knew what he wanted. Her, in various positions and frequently after punishing her defenseless backside. She knew she probably shouldn’t have enjoyed the spankings, but she did. She wasn’t sure if it was because they were linked to the delicious orgasms that came later or because she knew it pleased him and turned him on to punish her. Whatever the reason, she’d almost started to crave a spanking when she went several days without being turned over his lap.

That didn’t mean she found enduring the punishments easy. When he was truly chastising her for something, he could be ruthlessly rough on her bottom. She realized true punishments were harder, too, because he paused less to tease and stroke her, which she maintained was unfair, even though she knew it really wasn’t. Dean was fair. He laid out his expectations, which were all reasonable and meant to keep her safe and happy and healthy and to give him peace of mind that she was all of those things. In return for her being sweetly obedient, he seemed prepared to give her the moon.

That didn’t make nights easier when she knew she was in trouble and had to anticipate a punishment. Like tonight. She’d been caught staying up too late. It wasn’t a big deal. She was sure the punishment would be mild, but her heart still raced a bit with nervousness.

She took extra pains with dinner to get the seasoning just right and the sear on the steak perfect.

“This is delicious, Meghan,” he said, finishing his second serving of rosemary roasted potatoes. “The steak was better than I’ve had at the steakhouses in town.”

She smiled brightly. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

He drained the last of his wine, and she reached for the bottle. He slid it away from her questing fingers.

“You’ve had enough and so have I.”

“You only had one glass.”

“I need a clear head.”

She bit down on her lip, looking longingly at the bottle. She’d had two glasses, but her nerves were humming. One more glass would’ve been welcome, though her mouth and ears were already tingling from a buzz.

“Let’s talk about what time it was when you sent me email last night. Three in the morning?”

“I have to work hard. I don’t criticize you for working hard. You keep incredibly long hours!”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Do I sulk and complain when I’m tired?”

She pursed her lips mutinously, but finally had to shake her head.

“Except under special circumstances, do I try to get to sleep at a decent time so my body can get the rest it needs?”

“That’s different. You’re getting up to work out at five-thirty in the morning. If I’m up late, I can always sleep a little late or take a nap before dinner. I—”

He held up a hand. “The week you stayed late at your lab every night, you were exhausted and emotional. Every little thing set you off. You nearly had a meltdown when they were out of caramel syrup at the coffee shop.”

“They sell hundreds of caramel macchiatos every week. The campus runs on coffee! It’s the coffee shop manager’s job to have enough stock for the basic staples.”

He smirked. “Caramel macchiatos are a staple? Coffee is a staple. But caramel syrup? That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Just like you have a routine, Dean, I have one too. I need a caramel coffee before class. The caffeine and sugar perk me up and help me be my best.”

“Life doesn’t always go as planned, beautiful. And you are much more able to tolerate that when you’ve gotten enough sleep. Aren’t you?”

She clasped her hands in her lap. “I was on the verge of a breakthrough. How can you punish me for being excited? And for working hard?”

“That’s not what I’m going to punish you for, is it?”

“I should never have sent that email! I should’ve known you’d look at the time stamp. I only wanted to share my excitement with you. And now look what happened.” Inexplicably, traitorous tears sprang into her eyes, proving his point that she was much more emotional when she was overtired. And she had been dragging all day and was irritable at lunch because she’d wanted to take a nap, but couldn’t because she had an afternoon class to teach. She swallowed.

Dean stood and held out a hand.

“No!” she said, trying again for a reprieve. “I need rest, not discipline.”

“You need both.” His hand stayed stubbornly where it was.

Finally she hung her head and slipped her hand into his. “You can be so mean,” she whispered.

“Not accurate. I think what you meant to say was that I can be so firm, right? And uncompromising when it comes to forcing you to take care of yourself, so you behave like your sweet self rather than an irritable child?”

“I’m not a child,” she said, pouting even as she said it.

Instead of the bedroom, he turned to the living room.

“Wait,” she said, freezing in the doorway. “Why—?”

He tugged on her hand. “I’m going to watch Sports Center tonight. When your punishment is over, you can go to bed.”

“Alone?” she gasped. “That’s not fair!”

He turned and looked down at her. “I agree. It’s unfair to me. There is nothing I’d rather do than make love to you after punishing that gorgeous ass of yours. But I have work to do tonight, as I told you earlier in the week. Which days did I say I was free to concentrate on you all night?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t remember. And she didn’t want to. If he was going to punish her, he had no right to abandon her afterward to watch sports commentary. She tried to extract her hand.

“Then you can punish me when you have more time. I don’t want to interfere with your precious schedule!”

His eyes narrowed and the sound he made when he exhaled made her regret her tone immediately.

“That’s enough,” he said. “No wine with dinner for the rest of the week.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it when he shook his head at her.

“I’m sorry! I’m just really tired.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The words were already out, and she couldn’t take the admission back. She shook her head. How could she? He was right. The wine had loosened her lips. She hated that he was always right about everything. It made her want to scream in frustration.

She let him draw her into the living room.

“Out of your clothes,” he ordered.

She wanted to protest, but didn’t challenge him. She could tell by his tone he’d had enough surliness and sassiness from her. Still, she muttered under her breath about being a grown woman and that she wasn’t sure whether she could go on with things this way. They were empty threats, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying them. To not say them would be admitting that she was better off with him in control of everything, and she was too upset to even consider that at the moment.

When she was naked and draped over his legs and the couch cushions, she couldn’t stop from squirming, making her round rump jiggle.

The first slaps were a warmup, but they quickly transitioned into hard thumps delivered from his enormous hand. The rebellion drained out of her as the discomfort became pain. She began to squeeze her cheeks against the blows and to cry out, becoming increasingly flustered.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Please. Ow! Please!”

He paused and rubbed her scorched rump. “Catch your breath.”

“Can we be done?” she begged, shifting her hips uncomfortably.

“Not yet.”

“Please?” she whined. Despite the embarrassment and throbbing, her pussy was becoming increasingly slippery with need. She eased her legs apart, not caring if she seemed wanton or slutty. She ached from her buttocks down, and a certain kind of touch from him could make everything better.

The spanking resumed, and she howled in frustration, reaching back to protect herself.

“Absolutely not. Move that hand,” he ordered.

“I want you to stop.”

“I’ll bet you do, sweetheart. That’s what punishment is all about,” he said calmly, but without the sympathetic tone she wanted to hear. “Get your hand out of my way, or this spanking won’t be the end of your punishment,” he said sternly.

“I hate you!” she snapped, but pulled her hand away.

He rested his warm palm on her low back. “If that’s how you feel, you should get up and ask me to leave and not come back.”

She burst into tears, trying to muffle her watery sobs in the thick cushions.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “For me to go?”

She shook her head sharply. She raised her bottom, offering it up for more of his ruthless discipline.

“Apologize,” he said.

“I’m sorry I said that! I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t.”

He resumed spanking her with the same strong intensity, and very quickly, she was wailing and sobbing. When he finished, she knew her bottom must be bright red. It felt swollen and like she’d been caught in the blazing sun without sunscreen or clothes. The burning continued for quite a long time while she cried herself out.

When she was finally calm and docile, he rubbed her aching buttocks in slow circles. “Put lotion on these cheeks before you go to bed.”

Her desire railed against the idea of going to bed without him. She rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes, then crawled off his lap and stood. She clutched her buttocks for a moment, which were heated beyond belief. Then she turned and sank down to her knees in front of him.

“Please, can I stay here with you? I’ll be so good. I promise,” she whispered, then she leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against his straining erection. She looked up at him through her wet lashes. “Let me show you how much I remember from last week’s lesson.”

He’d been teaching her how he wanted her to perform oral sex. At first she’d resisted those lessons, but the first time she’d swallowed every drop of semen, he’d been so pleased and satisfied that it made her want to do it every time. Also, he was very talented and generous when it came to using his tongue and mouth on her, which made her want to be as good when she reciprocated.

“Having you on your knees, begging me to let you service me after I’ve spanked your ass to a bright red…” He exhaled slowly and swallowed. “That’s satisfying in its own right.”

Her fingers crept toward his zipper. “I like to make you happy,” she said honestly.

He leaned forward and bent his head. He kissed her slowly, feeding on her mouth. “You do make me happy, Meghan, especially when you’re so good and sweet.”

She smiled, her eyes a little watery, this time with happy tears. How had he acquired such power over her? She’d even started slipping in the word Sir when he spanked her or teased her. She could tell he loved when she called him that. Without meaning to, she’d started to crave his domination.

“Back up,” he said.

She inched backward, and he stood. He unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers and let them drop to the floor. He pushed his boxers down and off. She was at eye level with his amazing six-pack and powerful cock.

He didn’t give her a chance to take him in her mouth. Instead he sat on the couch. “Climb on my lap,” he said, crooking his finger.


She scrambled up and straddled his hips with her knees. She positioned his cock at her opening and sank down on him, stretching and impaling herself. She moaned. She’d been drenched and ready. For him to be seated all the way to her womb was delicious.

When she opened her eyes, she found he was leaning back, watching her.

“It feels really good,” she whispered.


She circled her hips, pressing her clit against him. Her breath caught at the exquisite sensation.

“Up and down,” he commanded. “Make those big breasts bounce for me.”

She flushed, never failing to become both embarrassed and aroused when he combined domination and sex.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She started to move up and down, slowly at first, then with bigger movements. “Oh!” she said, stopping abruptly when her butt banged against his thighs. She was very sore from her spanking.

“Don’t stop,” he said, slapping her ass.

She sucked in a breath, her eyes flying open. “I’m sore!” she protested.

“Then you’d better take care not to bang those punished globes too hard while you’re bouncing up and down.”

She bit her lip.

“Unless you’d rather get back on your knees and suck me after all, with no reward for yourself.”

“I don’t have to bounce. I bet I could move back and forth and make us both—you know.”

“Sometime, but not tonight. You’re interrupting my plans, so if you want to come you’re going to work hard for it.”

Heat engulfed her cheeks. Sometimes he could make her feel like such a slutty little sex slave, one who desperately wanted to have sex with him no matter what he said or did to her.

He played with her nipple, then pinched it, causing her to arch her back, arousal roaring through her all over again.

“Get back to what you were doing, or get on your knees.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered as she closed her eyes. Then she began to ride him again in earnest.

After a time, she no longer cared how hard she landed or that she was punishing her bottom all over again. The pain and pleasure swirled together until she was coming so ferociously that her ears rang and her skin tingled from scalp to toes.

When she started to slow, he grabbed her aching buttocks in his big hands and drove her onward, ruthlessly controlling her. Her pussy squeezed his erection, and she pumped the thick shaft until it erupted inside her.

He groaned, jerking his hips a few times, then hauling her against him. Her breasts melted against his hot, hard chest, and she buried her face in his neck, her heart pounding. He held her tight, rubbing her skin.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, and a part of her soul soared right along with her body.

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