tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44842345939734120692024-03-19T05:33:41.432-07:00Seven Realms Earthside Communications CenterCharlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-9266815551794082132020-03-27T14:27:00.001-07:002020-03-27T14:27:35.740-07:00Stir Crazy Relief #1 -- "Lucia's Affair" by Ken Charles<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Lucia’s Affair</span></b></div>
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"Damn, where is that damn school bus," Lucia muttered to
herself. "Do they want all the babies to catch a cold?"
Despite her complaints, the bus was just coming into view, and right
on time. But it was Thursday, and she was unusually impatient.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
Lucia grabbed her daughter's tiny backpack. "C'mon, Maria! The
bus is coming! Give Mommy a hug and kiss." Maria, like a little
duckling in her yellow boots, rain slicker and cap, splashed over to
her mother, and tried without success to lift her face for a kiss
without getting it wet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"If it's still raining tomorrow, Mommy, can I wear your big
raincoat?"</span></div>
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Lucia smiled, and gave her daughter a kiss on the nose. "We'll
see, baby. Now get on the bus before you have to swim to school."
They both laughed, and Maria blew her a final kiss as she jumped on
the bus. Lucia waved goodbye, and thought that even if it is not
raining tomorrow, I will not need this big coat to keep you from
asking me why I keep squeezing my legs together!</span></div>
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***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
He looks furtively both ways as he exits the delivery van, as if any
of the neighbors have nothing better to do in this deluge than to
watch him slink up the walk. Of course, even if they do not actually
see him, it would be difficult not to notice the bright green
Morales' Florist and Gifts van parked in Lucia's driveway for the
third Thursday in a row.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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Lucia is waiting shyly by the door. She cannot believe that it has
only been three weeks. It seems like forever. She shivers slightly at
the cool wet breeze coming in through the cracked door.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
She is not wearing much in the way of protective apparel. But she is
warmed at the thought of that first Thursday. Lucia smiles as she
remembers how he arrived with the large colorful centerpiece for her
dinner party. He complemented her on her dress. They made small talk.
Then he told her she had such pretty ankles. She had giggled like a
schoolgirl, then on a devilish whim, had slowly lifted her hem to
reveal her lovely calves. He nodded with greater interest. She lifted
her dress above her knees. Without a word, he came to her, seized her
with his huge powerful arms and kissed her deeply. He lifted her
dress up to the small of her back. His strong hands squeezed her firm
ass, and lifted her to meet his fiery kisses. She has no recollection
of how he freed himself from his slacks, but she vividly recalls
being bent over the counter, having her panties ripped away, and the
crashing waves of pleasure that assaulted her with each pulsing
thrust as he took her fiercely from behind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
Lucia finds herself flushing, and short of breath as he enters the
hallway. Without a word, he crushes her to him. His jacket is wet and
cold against her diaphanous nighty, causing the brown nipples on her
small firm breasts to harden like marbles against his chest. She
breaks away to catch her breath, but grabs his hands and puts them on
her chest. "You're so cold! Here, warm your hands. Do you want
some hot coffee?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
He smiles and squeezes her breasts, causing her to moan. "You
know what I want!" She knows, and wants the same. He does not
bother to hang his jacket, but tosses it on the hallway settee. He
picks her up, causing her to squeal in delight, and carries her to
the bedroom. She nips his ear, and undoes the buttons on his shirt as
they move down the hall. She is surprised as they enter the bedroom
when he stops and sets her down at the door. She does not understand
the scowl on his face.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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"What's wrong, darling?"</span></div>
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"You aren't excited to see me," he replies quietly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
Lucia is confused. She met him at the door dressed in next to
nothing, kissed and fondled him passionately, and practically
undressed him with her teeth. What more does he expect?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"Wh-what do you mean?"</span></div>
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He does not say a word, but merely points to the unmade queen size
bed in the middle of the bedroom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"Oh, I'm sorry. The little one couldn't find her boot, and we
had to run for the bus. Then I just forgot when I got home, you know
..."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
He puts a finger over her lips. "We must work on your memory."
He takes her by the hand, and leads her over to the unmade bed. He
sits on the end of the bed, and pulls her over his knee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"Wh-What are you doing?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
Without answering verbally, he gives her firm round bottom a sharp
smack. Satisfied with her surprised yelp, he promptly gives her
another smack. Her surprise starts giving way to anger as he smacks
her again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"Okay, next time I'll remember!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"Oh, I'm quite certain of that," he assures her giving her
another loud smack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
"Ow," she complains, covering her stinging rear with her
hand. "That's enough! You'll leave marks!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
He laughs, and removes her hand. His powerful grip prevents any
thought of her pulling away. Although it offers virtually no
protection, he turns up her nighty, and gives her another smack. He
likes the feel of her hot round cheeks under his calloused square
palms. Rhythmically, he smacks her again and again, causing her to
cry out and kick her legs. Although the pain is extraordinary, she
finds herself lifting her thighs to raise her bottom up to meet his
punishing hand. She derives a perverse pleasure upon her descent,
grinding her pelvis against the ever-hardening rod beneath her. When
her bottom is red and blazing, he lifts her and effortlessly impales
her. She throws her arms backwards around his neck and locks her
fingers in his hair, pulling his head down to kiss away her tears.
She grinds her fiery tail into him until they both explode.</span></div>
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</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
***</span></div>
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</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">
Lucia watches the van pull away. She rubs her stinging bottom, and
wonders whether to skip tennis this afternoon. Of course, it was her
girlfriends who suggested that she have an affair. Mrs. Morales
smiles wickedly, and wonders, what would happen to her naughty bottom
if she ever had an affair with someone other than her husband?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Copyright KC 2012</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Lucia's Affair" can be found in:</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=ken+charles+cotton+glen&qid=1585344230&s=books&sr=1-1">https://www.amazon.com/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=ken+charles+cotton+glen&qid=1585344230&s=books&sr=1-1</a></div>
<br />Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-77856555096651101782019-10-01T18:40:00.000-07:002019-10-01T18:40:03.372-07:00Ken Charles' Halloween Treat--"The Walnut Hairbrush"<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>THE WALNUT HAIR BRUSH</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
looked over at the display case one last time, before turning off the
lights. He winced at one of the all too common twinges of pain in his
joints. Micah sighed, if she's coming it had best be soon. He picked
up his cane, locked the door to the curio shop, and began his slow
walk home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
Albans was thrilled when her standby travel club called with a chance
to leave Los Angeles and fly to London for three days for pennies.
The club booked special deeply discounted deals for members who could
travel on a moment's notice to fill underbooked tours or charters. </span>
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> She<span lang="en-US">
was an interior designer and consultant. She did not have any
particular set work schedule, which allowed her to take trips
virtually whenever she wanted. She jumped at the London trip.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She <span lang="en-US">had
been tracing her family roots, and had discovered that her great
grandmother, Mary Wellington, came to the United States from London
in the 1880's. Since her mother died, Cheryl was unaware of any other
living relatives. The trip to London was her chance to look for other
family. Before leaving Los Angeles, she called London and made
arrangements to view archived vital statistics. Something told her
that she had to take this trip, and that for some unknown reason,
time was of the essence.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> One of the
problems with discount packages is that they did not always include
world class accommodations. But Cheryl was satisfied with her room.
It was clean and bright, and smelled faintly of lavender. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
was exhausted after a long day of travel, and had trouble falling
asleep. She kept thinking that she had been brought to London, and
that she really had no choice in the matter. </span>
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> In the
morning, Cheryl set about the business of being a tourist. She went
to Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London. She lunched at a pub,
and had fish and chips and a pint. She took photographs of
everything, and had a wonderful carefree time, unburdened by any
thoughts of any deeper purpose. However, around four o'clock, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
experienced a firm conviction that she had to be somewhere in
Kensington, and that she was running late. She started to hail a
taxi, but stopped short when she realized that she had no particular
destination in mind. </span>
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> She<span lang="en-US">
had planned on having dinner, and then going to a show. But her need
to find something, who knew what, in Kensington left her uneasy. She
returned to her room, read for a disinterested while, then went to
bed early. Her last thoughts before, or perhaps her first thoughts
after, falling asleep were of perfume.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
devoted her second morning in London to searching public records for
Mary Wellington and her kin. After several hours of hunting, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
located vital statistics for her great grandmother, but was sorely
disappointed to find that Mary Wellington was an only child like
herself. Mary's mother had died in childbirth. Mary had one child,
Cheryl's grandfather. Her grandfather had only one child, </span>her<span lang="en-US">
mother. Cheryl, in turn, was an only child, and the last surviving
descendant of Mary Wellington. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
left Vital Statistics feeling small and abandoned.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> After
lunch, Cheryl decided to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Wandering museums always inspired </span>her<span lang="en-US">.
Maybe she could write part of the trip off as a business expense. She
hailed a taxi, and rode to the museum. As she headed to the door,
Cheryl suddenly felt that she was close to her appointment, and that
the appointment was not at the museum. She turned and started walking
down the street, with no idea of where she was headed. </span>she<span lang="en-US">
walked for half an hour and took several turns. She had no idea where
she was at when she spied the curio shop. It had a plain well aged
brown awning out front. The front window read "Smithson's
Antiques and Gifts".</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> She<span lang="en-US">
crossed over to the shop and opened the door. A little bell over the
door chimed brightly. Micah looked up and smiled. A young woman was
signing in the Guest Registry by the door. American, judging by her
dress. Definitely the right age, with long, silky auburn hair, Micah
was satisfied that she had come at long last. He unlocked the display
case. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
began looking around the shop. The material was all of high quality,
and reasonably priced. Cheryl the tourist was replaced by Cheryl the
business woman. She saw two small bronzes, and a nice landscape that
she knew she could place immediately. In fact, her practiced eye
revealed that there were enough pieces, possibly, to justify the
whole vacation as a buying trip. Still, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
felt that she was missing something important. The last time she got
this kind of feeling, she picked up the thirty thousand dollar gem
from Edouord Leon Cortes that was hanging in her living room, for
four hundred dollars. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
decided to make a closer inspection of the stock. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US">Micah
watched Cheryl surveying the stock. She had a pen and a small
notebook in her hand. Occasionally, she would bend over and examine
one piece or another, make an entry in her notebook, then move on to
another work. </span>He<span lang="en-US">
noted that she had a good eye. With very few exceptions, she examined
only the best of his stock.</span>
He<span lang="en-US">
thought, wistfully, that if he had had a daughter, this is how she
would have turned out. Of course, for all practical purposes,
although she did not know it yet, this woman was closer to him than
even a daughter could ever have been. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah knew
that she was hunting. He had every confidence that she would find it
without any help. </span>He<span lang="en-US">
noted that his pulse was rising, and that he was short of breath. He
reached into his vest and located his pills, but decided that he
would be fine without them. </span><span lang="en-US"><i>Be
patient. She is coming this way.</i></span><span lang="en-US">
</span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
nodded to the elderly proprietor, but suddenly turned away when she
spied a lovely Venetian blown glass vase. The piece was exquisite, as
was the price. Maybe after she sells the first shipment, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
thought. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl was
beginning to feel a little frustrated. The stock was great. There was
plenty of room for profit, but there were no apparent steals to be
found. The owner clearly knew his business. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
smiled at herself. She was acting like a spoiled child turned loose
in a candy store. Surrounded by sweets, she was fussing because she
could not find a particular chocolate. But Cheryl was certain that
that particular chocolate was, indeed, here! With a slight pang of
regret, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
put down the vase, and walked back to talk to the owner. She needed
to talk about volume purchasing and shipping.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> It was
time. She had seen all she needed to see, but not what she wanted to
see. She would come back at any moment. Micah again considered his
pills, but decided that this meeting would not take very long. He
would close the shop as soon as she left. He could go home and take a
nap, and rest up for her return.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah rose
to greet her, "Good afternoon, I am Micah Smithson, III, at your
service." Cheryl shook his hand and introduced herself. She
started explaining that she was an interior designer, when she found
the object of her desire. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
stopped speaking right in the middle of a sentence. Naturally, Micah
was not surprised or offended. Cheryl leaned closer to the display
glass. </span>She <span lang="en-US">found
herself short of breath.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl knew
that she had found the source of all of her recent confusion. But she
could hardly believe that this piece was worth all the trouble. It
was an old fashioned wooden hair brush. The brush was well preserved.
It was a dark, hard well-polished wood. The bristles were all in fine
condition, definitely natural, probably boar.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "What
kind of wood is the brush?"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Walnut.
It was made here in London in 1876."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "It's
lovely. May I see it?"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Of
course." </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
handed her the brush, and watched. As Cheryl took the brush, she was
overcome by waves of emotion. First, she felt unconditional love. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
felt warm and content, enfolded in a sea of lavender. But just as
quickly, the brush turned icy in her hands. Cheryl cried out, then
almost fainted, overcome by fear, pain and a sense of betrayal. A
thin sheen of perspiration appeared on her forehead. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
quickly passed the brush back to Micah. She apologized to </span>him<span lang="en-US">,
saying that she just felt a little dizzy for a moment, but that she
was better. </span>He<span lang="en-US">
told her to sit for a moment, and offered her some water. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
refused, assuring </span>him<span lang="en-US">
that she was fine. In fact, she was anything but. She definitely did
not want to touch that brush again, yet knew that she could not leave
the store without it!</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "How
much is the brush?"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
smiled. "In many ways, the brush is priceless. I have refused
offers of up to sixty pounds. But that is because the brush was not
intended for those individuals. It was meant for you. It is my gift."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Oh, I
couldn't! No, really, I'd be happy to pay for the brush. Please, how
much is it?"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Then,
the price is one pound. And if you are unhappy with the brush, for
any reason, bring it back."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
carefully wrapped the brush in tissue paper, and placed it in a gift
box. With great ceremony, he accepted a one pound note from Cheryl,
and placed it in his antique cash register. He escorted </span>her<span lang="en-US">
to the door, then closed the shop, and left for the day.</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> After
drying her long auburn hair, Cheryl took her expensive Crabtree and
Evelyn brush out of her travel kit to give her locks their nightly
one hundred strokes. As she was about to start, she paused and set
the brush down. She went over to her suitcase and took out the
Smithson's gift box. She sat on the end of her bed, her back
straight, her feet flat on the floor, the box held with two hands in
the middle of her lap. Sitting there barefoot and in her nightie,
trembling slightly, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
resembled a naughty little girl awaiting impending discipline. Cheryl
sat like that for several minutes, afraid to open the box, and
equally afraid to set it down. Steeling herself, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
opened the box and removed the dark walnut hair brush. Nothing
happened. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
realized that she had been holding her breath. She released it with
an audible,</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Whew!"</span>
<span lang="en-US">Setting
the box aside, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
began brushing her hair. The brush felt like it was made for her
hand. It was firm and strong, and separated the strands of her hair
without any pulling or tugging. The brush massaged her scalp, and
felt tremendous. As the strokes mounted, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
increased her speed and the power of her strokes. At times, she
imagined that she could hear a little girl laughing and singing. As
the nightly ritual drew to a close, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
became aware of a strong scent of lavender. With the final strokes,
she clearly heard a child's laughter, and a little girl's voice
counting with her own, "Ninety-eight... ninety-nine... One
hundred! See Miss Wellington, your hair is so pretty!" </span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Suddenly
Cheryl was very sleepy. She carefully placed the brush back in the
box, and went to bed wondering why a little girl was talking to her
ancestral link to London. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
slept, or least lacked consciousness. The contentment that she
experienced while brushing her hair, gave way to darker thoughts as
she entered Morpheus'</span>s<span lang="en-US">
realm. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
was in a long, poorly lit hallway. She could not see to the end.
Somewhere up ahead, she could hear a little girl crying. Cheryl
called to the little girl, but the girl continued to cry. She started
to walk down the</span>
<span lang="en-US">hall,
but could get no closer to the girl.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
cried out in her sleep. She kicked off her covers, and dug her
fingers into her pillows. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
found herself near the end of the hallway. Running just ahead of her
was a little girl, clutching an overly long night shirt. Cheryl
called out, and the little girl looked back over her shoulder in </span>her<span lang="en-US">
direction. As she looked back, she lost her grip on the night shirt.
The little girl tripped over the night shirt , and fell forward and
down a flight of stairs. Cheryl and the little girl screamed in
unison. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
awoke, sobbing and drenched in sweat.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> After some
time, Cheryl became aware of someone knocking on her door. "Hello,
in there? Miss, are you all right?" </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US">Cheryl
called out, "just a moment, please." She peeled off her
drenched nightie, and quickly threw on jeans and a tee shirt. She ran
into the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, went to the door,
and found the Porter checking out reports of a guest screaming.
Cheryl blushed deeply, and apologized for disturbing the other
guests. She explained that she had been reading horror stories before
bed, and a moth landed on her face just after she fell asleep.
Naturally, the moth became a fierce creature of the night. The
Porter, who already knew that all Yanks had too much money, too
little common sense, and no manners or sense of propriety (</span><span lang="en-US"><i>but
the no bra look works for you</i></span><span lang="en-US">),
just smiled and told her he understood, and was there anything he
could get her--some tea perhaps, and no</span>--<span lang="en-US">
then I'll be on my way, and good night (</span><span lang="en-US"><i>and
try not to wake the rest of the guests, and tomorrow read a bloody
romance novel</i></span><span lang="en-US">).</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Several
hours passed before Cheryl was able to go back to sleep. As she
drifted off, she swore she never touched the perfume!</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl sees
herself sitting in a huge cathedral, with two young children, a boy
and a little girl. No, it is not Cheryl. But the woman could pass for
her sister. The little girl is poking at her brother. The woman leans
over and whispers to the girl. After several moments, the girl again
starts poking at her brother. The woman places herself between the
siblings.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl sees
a drawing room. A man in a waist coat is seated reading a newspaper.
The door to the room opens. Cheryl sees her look alike leading the
little girl by the hand. The little girl's face is red and wet with
tears. The man folds his newspaper as the girl comes to his side, and
says, "I'm very sorry that I was naughty in Church today, Poppa,
but I never touched the perfume. Really!"</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> As Micah
expected, Cheryl was waiting outside the shop when he arrived. She
held the gift box with both hands. "You knew I'd be back."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Yes,
I did. Please come in."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
opened the door and let them in, but left the blinds drawn, and the
closed sign on the door. He told Cheryl to place two straight backed
chairs by the rosewood coffee table in front of his desk, and to
place the walnut hair brush in the middle of the table. He then
walked back to his office and started boiling water for tea. When the
tea was finished, he poured two cups, and rejoined Cheryl.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah sat
down painfully, and set his cane aside. He took a long sip of his tea
while he studied </span>her<span lang="en-US">.
He began slowly, "I did not know your name, of course, but I
have known of you since your conception, just as I knew of your
mother. I know that you are the last of your blood line." Cheryl
shuddered and her eyes widened, but she dutifully remained silent.
"Even though you are still young, and may yet have children and
many descendants, my bloodline dies with me. A war wound ensured long
ago that there would be no blooded Micah Smithson, IV. And my health
is failing rapidly. So it was time for you to come and break the
cycle, since I am Micah Smithson the Last. I waited for your mother,
but she never came. But God has sent you to save our souls."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl was
watching the walnut hair brush. It glowed, with an intensity that
varied with the cadence of Micah's words. She knew with absolute
certainty that whatever the old man was telling her would be the
truth. And that thought petrified her! </span>He<span lang="en-US">
paused and took another sip of his tea. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
desperately wanted to sip hers also, but was certain that her hands
would shake too much to hold the cup. Micah continued, "I am the
last direct descendant of Micah Smithson, the brother of the little
girl in your dreams." Cheryl gasped.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Oh
yes, dear, I am quite familiar with the dreams. I have had them every
night for the last forty years since my father, Micah Smithson the
Second</span>,<span lang="en-US">
died. He was quite mad by the end. But he never knew that there is a
way out, which has saved my sanity. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"<span lang="en-US">It
was shortly after the onset of the dreams, that I first became aware
of your mother. She was still too young. But her mere existence
filled me with hope! At that time, your mother was the sole living
descendant of Mary Wellington. As she came of age, my spirits soared.
But her window of opportunity came and passed all too quickly. Your
mother never came. I fell into a deep depression. Just when I thought
that I would soon follow in my father's footsteps to the sanitarium,
I saw once again the faintest glimmer of salvation. Redemption came
from across the sea, as I sensed that your mother was pregnant. I
remember that day. It was thirty years, two months and four days ago.
Yes, dear, I even remember the time of day. And your twenty-ninth
birthday brought me indescribable joy."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
winced over a twinge in his hip. He paused and took another sip of
tea. "The little girl in the dreams is named Sarah. She was aged
nine. She would have been my great-aunt, had she lived. But you
already know that such was not the case.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "<span lang="en-US">Sarah's
mother died in childbirth leaving Sarah and her older brother with a
father who loved them, but could not care for them. My great
grandfather took on a nanny, a twenty-year old named Mary Wellington,
to raise his small children. Mary was the only mother that little
Sarah ever knew. And they adored each other! Every night they would
brush each other's hair, one hundred strokes each."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
heard a little girl's voice echoing "ninety-eight...ninety-nine...one
hundred!"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “<span lang="en-US">Mary was
very loving to both children, but at times seemed to dote on little
Sarah which would make Micah jealous.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "<span lang="en-US">My
great grandfather was a bit strict with the children. However, it
devolved on Mary to administer discipline. Mary was always fair, but
firm. As by now you've come to understand, severe infractions
received an application of Mary's walnut hair brush, which was always
received in the bare.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "<span lang="en-US">On
several occasions, Mary had found a curious little Sarah playing in
</span>her<span lang="en-US">
room with her personal belongings, particularly her cosmetics. Mary
was partial to lavender. After several warnings, one afternoon </span>she<span lang="en-US">
once again found Sarah seated at </span>her<span lang="en-US">
vanity, sampling her toiletries. Although Mary admired Sarah's
perseverance, she nonetheless promptly turned Sarah over her knee for
a light smacking, but promised her a dose of the hair brush if it
happened again</span>.</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "<span lang="en-US">On
the night of the accident, which was </span>her<span lang="en-US">
night off, Mary returned home late after an evening at the theater.
Upon retiring, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
discovered that her toiletries had been moved about on her vanity. In
particular, Mary observed that the stopper to her favorite lavender
perfume was setting next to the bottle. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
was shocked! Only days before, she had warned Sarah of the
consequences of playing with </span>her<span lang="en-US">
belongings without permission. Despite the late hour, Mary decided
that correction could not wait until the morning. Wrapping herself in
righteous indignation, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
stormed down the dark hallway to Sarah's room. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
pulled the sleepy and thoroughly bewildered Sarah out of her bed, and
quick marched the little girl back to </span>her
<span lang="en-US">room
to view the scene of the crime."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
paused again for another sip of his tea. He felt a pang of sorrow for
Cheryl as he watched the tears forming in her eyes. He wanted to hold
and comfort her, but there was precious little time left!</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "Poor
little Sarah was terribly confused. She cried and begged, 'Please,
Miss Wellington! I never touched your perfume. I swear it! Oh,
please, please, please, not your hair brush! I really did not touch
it this time!' But Sarah's protestations of her innocence fell on
deaf ears. Mary picked up the walnut hair brush, took little Sarah by
the ear, and pulled her over to </span>the<span lang="en-US">
bed. However, in an unheard of fit of defiance, Sarah broke away from
</span>her<span lang="en-US">
and ran from the room. Mary could have caught her easily enough had
she tried immediately, but she paused, astounded by Sarah's
insolence. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"<span lang="en-US">When
Mary started after her, Sarah was half way down that long dark
hallway between their rooms. Sarah looked back to see where Mary was,
and dropped her hold on her night shirt which was too long for her.
She tripped over the night shirt. Her momentum carried her down the
stairs, where she fell, and broke her neck."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl was
crying openly now. Micah paused and reached across and patted her
hand. He handed her his own handkerchief, which </span>she
<span lang="en-US">unashamedly
filled. When she had regained some of her composure, </span>he<span lang="en-US">
concluded his story, "The Coroner's inquest ruled the matter an
accident. No one, but Mary herself, ever blamed her for anything. But
Mary could not live in that house with her memories of Sarah. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
resigned her position, and shortly thereafter moved to America.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "<span lang="en-US">In
fact, of course, Sarah never touched Mary's perfume that fateful day.
It was my grandfather Micah, who craved an application of the walnut
hair brush every bit as much as poor little Sarah feared it. And that
is why Mary's walnut hair brush, the lovely brush there on the table
in front of us, serves as an anchor for Sarah's restless spirit, and
for ours as well. This hair brush was a symbol of Mary's and Sarah's
unconditional love, and the focal point of their nightly bonding
ritual, but it was also the central focal point of Mary's betrayal of
Sarah's love and trust."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Her voice
choked with tears, Cheryl asked, "B-but what am I supposed to
do?"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> "In
order to release Sarah's spirit, we have to acknowledge our
ancestors' guilt, and reaffirm their love for poor Sarah. I had hoped
to accomplish this exorcism with your mother when she was
twenty-nine, the same age as Mary Wellington on the night of the
accident. But your mother never came. You are my second and last
chance."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
suddenly understood the ultimate purpose of her trip, and her awesome
responsibilities. She rose, and without saying a word, lifted the
walnut hair brush and kissed it. She handed the brush to Micah, who
had pulled back his chair, and removed his jacket. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
started to place herself over </span>his<span lang="en-US">
lap, but Micah held his hand up. "I am afraid, dear, that the
walnut hair brush was always applied to the bare bottom."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
blushed deeply, but dutifully unsnapped her jeans. With great
embarrassment, she pulled the jeans down to her ankles and stepped
out of them. However, she could not bring herself to lower her
panties while standing in front of the old man. Micah understood and
nodded. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
placed herself over his lap. She lifted her hips slightly to allow
</span>him<span lang="en-US">
to roll her panties down to her thighs. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
whispered, "I love you, Sarah," and nodded for </span>him<span lang="en-US">
to begin.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US">Micah
raised the walnut hair brush, then brought it down with considerable
force given his infirmities. The brush landed squarely across the
center of Cheryl's upturned backside with a resounding crack! The
crack was accompanied by a lightning flash of pain for both Cheryl
and Micah, emanating simultaneously from </span>her<span lang="en-US">
bottom and </span>hi<span lang="en-US">s
shoulder. But the pain immediately was subjugated by a sense of cold,
darkness and isolation. Cheryl could smell lavender perfume, as Micah
raised the brush to continue the spanking. Although one part of her
mind duly registered each smack, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
was barely aware that she was being spanked over the next dozen
blows. She was lost in a long dark hallway, drowning in the
overpowering scent of lavender. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
heard her own voice as a little girl of nine, pleading over and over,
"I swear I did not touch your perfume! I swear it!" </span>Her<span lang="en-US">
own little girl pleas became a sort of mantra which she sobbed out
after each blow. Crack! "I swear it!" Crack! "I swear
it!"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah was
not counting, because he knew that he would sense when it was time to
stop. Sweat soaked through his shirt and vest. The pain in his
shoulder felt like a hot poker. </span>He<span lang="en-US">
was certain that he had torn something that would have taken months,
if he had had months, to heal. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
feared the strain on his heart, and for the briefest moment
considered stopping. But this pain was only temporal, while damnation
was eternal! So ignoring the telltale signs of an impending coronary
event, </span>he<span lang="en-US">
continued to raise the walnut hair brush again and again, only to
send it crashing once more down onto Cheryl's crimson mounds.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> After
thirty or forty cracks, Micah's arm lightened, and the blows started
falling in a natural rhythm. He felt a kind of bond with Cheryl as if
they were sharing something special. He even imagined that he heard a
little girl's laughter! However, after several more whacks, that
sense of closeness was supplanted by feelings of anger and
disappointment. </span>He<span lang="en-US">
became aware of </span>her
<span lang="en-US">chanting.
Crack! "I swear it!"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Although
she did not know exactly what Micah was experiencing, Cheryl could
tell that something had changed by the sudden increase in the
intensity and rapidity of the smacks. In addition, she had
experienced a similar shift in her perceptions. For the briefest
period, </span>she<span lang="en-US">
imagined that she heard a little girl laughing. She felt incredibly
close to </span>him<span lang="en-US">,
almost as if they were lovers. During these periods of virtual
respite, Cheryl found herself raising her bottom up meet the next
kiss of Micah's brush, then crashing back down to grind her pelvis
against his leg. But all too soon, those periods would dissipate, and
the laughter would turn again to cries of sorrow and repentance. </span>Her<span lang="en-US">
mounting pleasure would once again turn to shame and embarrassment,
and an instinctual desire to flee.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> There came
a point as the spanking drew to a close, where Micah's and Cheryl's
separate visions coalesced into a single reality. The smell of
lavender filled the shop. An overall sense of comfort and well-being
filled both Micah and Cheryl. </span>She<span lang="en-US">
sobbed openly, tears spilling down her cheeks, both as a result of
the extraordinary pain radiating from her scorched bottom, and as a
result of a sense of immense pride at having fully discharged her
ancestral debt to poor Sarah. The little bell over the door started
ringing, and the Venetian vase resonated harmonically. The shop was
filled with a little girl's laughter. </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Crack!
"Ninety-seven." </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Crack!
"Ninety-eight."</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Crack!
"Ninety-nine." </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Crack! "One
Hundred!"</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah set
down the walnut hair brush. The back of the brush was hot to the
touch. The fullness of the little girl's laughter bounced around the
shop, then slowly faded away. Cheryl smiled through her tears, and
sobbed, "Good-bye</span>,<span lang="en-US">
Sarah! We love you!" </span>He<span lang="en-US">
lifted her up and held her while she cried.</span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">***</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Poor
Cheryl's bottom was too sore and swollen for her to squeeze back into
her jeans. So Micah gave her a lovely antique 1880's floral dress,
which fit her perfectly. Cheryl looked at Micah who smiled and said,
"Of course, it was one of Mary's favorites. But now, it is time
for you to return to America." </span>
</span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Cheryl
shuddered at the thought of sitting on the long flight home. Micah
carefully wrapped the walnut hair brush, and packed it in a new gift
box. At the door, he took her face in his hands and kissed her on the
forehead. As he closed the door behind her, he felt in his coat
pocket for the paper with the name of his Solicitor who held his
final will signed yesterday afternoon, designating his God-niece
Cheryl Albans of Los Angeles, California, United States of America,
with her full name and address carefully copied from the Guest
Registry, as his sole heir.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"> Micah
locked the door to his shop for the last time. He could no longer
see, but it hardly mattered. Instinctively, after fifty years of
practice, he turned off the shop lights and made his way slowly back
to the rosewood coffee table. Settling himself in his chair, </span>he<span lang="en-US">
felt for his tea cup. He took a sip, then carefully found the saucer
and replaced the cup. His last thoughts were of his love for Sarah
and Cheryl, that the tea was cold, and so was he.</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US">KC Copyright 1997</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US">***************</span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US">You can find "The Walnut Hairbrush" in </span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/WICKED-MYTHS-FAIRY-TALES-THINGS-ebook/dp/B06WRPHJ8M/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=wicked+myths+ken+charles&qid=1569980109&sr=8-1">https://www.amazon.com/WICKED-MYTHS-FAIRY-TALES-THINGS-ebook/dp/B06WRPHJ8M/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=wicked+myths+ken+charles&qid=1569980109&sr=8-1</a> </div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="en-US"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<img alt="WICKED MYTHS, FAIRY TALES, AND THINGS THAT GO WHACK IN THE NIGHT by [Charles, Ken]" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51e85FJGyhL.jpg" /></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<br />Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-23020977786496863772019-01-27T09:27:00.000-08:002019-01-27T09:27:42.581-08:00Ken Charles' Valentine--"The Widow"<br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">This
story is not intended for those individuals under the age of
eighteen, or for those individuals who are unusually sensitive to
adult or sexually oriented materials. For the rest of you, enjoy. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Bold, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><b>THE
WIDOW</b></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Bold, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><b>By
Ken Charles</b></span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> Captain
Frederick J. McAndrews, R.A.F., was young, dashing, heroic, and an
absolute fraud. Everybody loved him. Every girl, whether bar maid,
nurse or steno clerk, would kill for his smile. Everybody watched his
every move. But only I took the time to observe him. I suppose that
is why he chose me when he could have had any birdie in town.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> It
was like any other Saturday night in March, 1944. Everyone was
drinking a little too quickly to get it in before curfew, laughing a
little too easily, and pretending that Hitler was going to fall any
day. Everyone was pretending to ignore the build up around the base.
Everyone was watching everyone who might be a Nazi spy while
pretending not to watch. So it did not surprise me that no one really
took the time to do more than simply watch Captain McAndrews while he
chatted up the locals, or pretended to drink the Yanks under the
table. However, it was my job to watch the watchers and the watched.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
was extremely discrete, nursing a pint at the end of the bar, never
looking at him directly, but never taking my eyes off of him in the
mirror behind the bar. It was the same as always. In the last hour,
he had bought two rounds, and been spotted two more, but he had never
finished more than a couple of sips from any glass. Although some
people came and went, Captain McAndrews was always the center of
attention. After the first round or two, he rarely said a word, but
it was apparent that he never missed one either. Two or three times,
he was accidently jostled by blushing patrons on their way to the
powder room. It did not work three weeks ago, two weeks ago, or last
week either, but that would not stop them from trying it again next
week. It was becoming so predictable that I was considering just
adding additional dates to last week’s report.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> Mercifully,
he decided to make an early night of it. Before he finished putting
on his coat and making his numerous farewells, I was out the door.
The early evening drizzle was now a downpour. I was still three
blocks from home when the wind reversed and ripped my umbrella. I was
two and half blocks from home when the car pulled up.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Say,
can I give you a lift?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> It
was wrong. The simple and obvious answer was no thank you. Double
pneumonia was still better than being shot.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Thank
you. You’re a life saver.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Well,
I’ve been called many things in my day, but that is a first. I’m
Frederick</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">McAndrews.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Julie
Winters. Pleased to meet you Mr. McAndrews.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Pleased
to meet you as well, Miss Winters. But call me Freddie.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Fine.
Julie, then.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> He
nodded and smiled. I smiled back. He was much larger than he appeared
in the mirror, and his smile was markedly different. It actually
appeared to be genuine. I shivered.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Sorry,
Julie. But I’ll have you home long before there’s any heat.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
nodded and told him not to worry about it. In a minute, he pulled up
in front of my flat. I never told him where I lived.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">I’ve
been watching you, too.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> They
can only shoot you once.</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">***</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Lordy,
what time is it?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">A
quarter to five. You can go back to sleep, but I have to get going.
And I’m going to need that.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
was snuggled in his shirt. I liked it. I did not care to give it
back. I informed him,</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Sorry,
but you simply cannot have it.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Now
see here, Missy...”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
giggled and pulled the comforter over my head.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">If
I have to come in there after you, someone is going to get her
naughty bottom</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">smacked.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">You
wouldn’t dare, you brute!”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">To
the contrary! One... Two... Three!”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
gripped the comforter as tightly as I could. But that only proved to
be another Maginot</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Line.
Before I knew what was happening, the bottom half of the comforter
and a bundle of sheets flew up from the bottom of the bed. Freddie
grabbed both of my ankles in one large hand and lifted both legs up.
As his shirt dropped, is other hand landed three sharp smacks on my
poor inverted bum.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">He
dropped my legs and uncovered my head. “You’re a beast, you
know.” I pouted and was rewarded with a kiss. So I pouted again.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
leaned on my side and watched him finish getting dressed. Unshaven
and wearing a wrinkled shirt, I would have bet a pound that he could
have reported for duty just like that and escaped a reprimand. As he
tied his tie, I rolled out of bed. I walked over and hugged him
tightly. I did not plan them, but tears started anyway.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">This
is wrong, you know.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Yes,
it is. But not for the reasons you think.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">How
do you know what I think?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Don’t
worry about that. Suffice it to say that you have not done anything
wrong or</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">anything
to feel guilty about.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
hugged him tighter. “But still I do.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> Freddie
hugged me and stroked my hair. He leaned down and gave a long deep
kiss. Then he took his jacket off and laid it over the chair. He took
me by the hand and led me back over to the bed. He sat down on the
half stripped bed and pulled me across his knee. I did not resist.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> He
raised his hand and paused. I held my breath. When I exhaled, he gave
me a</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">frightful
whack on the right cheek. I would have cried out, but I had no air.
He gave me</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">another
fearful smack on the left cheek. But I was ready now. I whimpered but
did not cry out.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Smack!
Crack! Freddie alternated back and forth leaving no part of my poor
bottom untouched. I did not kick or try to pull away. This was a
gift, and I recognized it as such. After about two dozen fiery
cracks, I fully embraced its solace and with a small sob, let loose a
torrent of dammed up tears.</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">***</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> After
my final goodbye kiss, I told Freddie that dinner was at 7:30. He
shook his head and told me that he could not promise anything. I
nodded and told him I understood. We performed this ritual every
morning for the next six weeks.</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">***</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
do not know how he found them, but the package contained six lamb
chops. I smiled weakly, kissed him, and told him that it was a
wonderful surprise. I refused to start crying. But there was an extra
clean shirt at the bottom of his bag.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> We
made love three times that night. The first time I raped him. The
second time I rode him for as long as I could. The last time, I took
him as deeply as I could so that that much more of me would remember
him. I did not sleep that night. I held him until dawn.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
laid out his clean shirt with his other clothes. I made a pot of
coffee, then woke him at a</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">quarter
to five. I refused to cry while I watched him dress. Tears would come
soon enough.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Freddie
finished adjusting his tie. I walked over and hugged him tightly. He
bent down, stared into my eyes for hours, then gave me a long kiss.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">This
was not wrong.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">No,
Freddie, it wasn’t. But not for the reasons you think.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">How
do you know what I think?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">It
doesn’t matter. But I know you love me.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Yes,
Julie, I do love you.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Mark
me, Freddie.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Pardon
me?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">I
want you to mark me, Freddie.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
broke away from him and walked to the closet. We both knew this day
would come. So several weeks earlier, I had prepared myself. I took
out the antique whale-bone cane that I had purchased. I brought it
over to him, kissed it, and placed it in his hands. “I want you to
mark me, then leave. If I see you to the door, I won’t let you go.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
kissed him for the last time. Then I took the pillows and put them in
the middle of the bed. I laid down over the pillows and turned
Freddie’s shirt up.</span></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">***</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> June
24, 1944. The marks had faded. The next outward signs of our
relationship would not be apparent for a few more weeks. I was not
surprised to see the MP’s waiting by my desk. In fact, I was
relieved. They took me directly to the Colonel’s office.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> All
of the papers were laid out on the Colonel’s desk. I was surprised
at how much material was there. And I was correct that Captain
Frederick J. McAndrews was a fraud.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Do
you have anything that you would like to say, Julie?”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
shook my head no. What was there to say?</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">Fine,
then I have a few things to say. James Frederick Browne was a fine
man, and a great patriot. I served with his father, and I knew James
his whole life. I hand picked him for his mission. Though I cannot
give you any of the details, I can tell you his work saved a lot of
lads on June 6th. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">James
was a very thoughtful and dedicated man. But I never would have
described him as happy until he met you. The family solicitor will
help you with James’s estate. But here are a couple of things that
James left with me to give to you.”</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times-Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"> I
had never seen it before, but the signature at the bottom of the
marriage license from April 14, 1944, for James Frederick Browne and
Juliette Winters, was mine. The stone on the ring was small, but
perfect. Captain Frederick J. McAndrews, R.A.F., was young, dashing,
heroic, patriotic, an absolute fraud, and first and foremost, my
husband.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><b>KC
Copyright 2004;</b></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span lang="en-US"><b>Moral
rights to be identified as the author of “The Widow” asserted
worldwide (including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77
and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988)</b></span></span></span></div>
<br />Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-15479037228923172612016-08-21T13:39:00.002-07:002016-08-24T05:33:52.755-07:00A Tale of Two Prepositions<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">AUGUST
2, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">FOR
IMMEDIATE RELEASE:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A TALE OF TWO PREPOSITIONS OR WHY REPUBLICANS WILL
SWEEP ALL STATEWIDE ELECTIONS IN NOVEMBER, UNLESS…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By
Bruce C. Cohen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">This
is the tale of two tiny prepositions, “to” and “by”. Between them, they have
the power to decide all statewide elections this November. As it stands today,
“to” is winning which means that if nothing changes between now and the
November elections, Republicans will sweep all statewide contests.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"> There
are 115 counties (including St. Louis City) in Missouri. The election
authorities for these counties is established in Missouri Revised Statutes
Section 115.015 which provides, “</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;">The county clerk shall be the election
authority, except that in a city or county having a board of election
commissioners, the board of election commissioners shall be the election
authority.” Section 115.017 establishes
the counties where a board of election commissioners can operate. Six counties
qualify, including St. Louis County, St. Louis City, Kansas City, Clay County,
Jackson County and Platte County. According to the </span><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;">Official Manual State of Missouri
2015-2016</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;">,
as of 2014, these six counties had a total of 1,647,478 voters out of a
statewide total of 4,081,259, comprising approximately forty percent of the
electorate. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;"> In 109 of 115 counties, the county
clerk serves as the election authority. In the other six counties listed above,
however, a board of election commissioners serves as the election authority.
The problem is, these six boards of election commissioners have no
constitutional authority to act. Missouri Constitution Art. IV, Section 12
provides in relevant part, “</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">Unless discontinued all present or future boards… of the state
exercising administrative or executive authority <b>shall be assigned by law or by the governor as provided by law</b> to
the office of administration or to one of the fifteen administrative
departments to which their respective powers and duties are germane.” (Emphasis
added) O</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">n its face,
this section applies to “all” executive branch boards without exception,
including boards of election commissioners. This is where the preposition “by”
comes into play. Boards may be assigned “by” law or “by” the governor as
provided “by” law. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">Nothing in Missouri Revised Statutes
Chapter 115 assigns the boards of election commissioners by law to the office
of administration or to an executive branch department as required by Missouri
Constitution Art. IV, Section 12. Accordingly, the responsibility for assigning
these boards falls on the governor. The law providing for assignment of a board
by the governor is the Omnibus State Reorganization Act of 1974, Missouri
Revised Statutes Appendix B (hereinafter “OSRA”). Under the OSRA, if a board is
not assigned by law to the office of administration or a state executive branch
department, then the governor may assign the board. All it takes is a one page
letter. It is so simple, even John Ashcroft could do it (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">see e.g. EXECUTIVE ORDER 86-03).<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">This is where the preposition <b>“to”</b> comes into play. Unfortunately, no governor has ever assigned
the six boards of election commissioners <b>“to”</b>
the office of administration or an executive branch department. The </span><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 115%;">Official
Manual State of Missouri 2015-2016</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">, at page 871</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">
</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">lists
the six boards of election commissioners as “Boards Assigned <b>to</b> the Governor”.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"> Under Missouri Constitution Art.
IV, Sec. 12, there is no such thing as a “Board Assigned <b>to</b> the Governor”. Boards may be assigned <b>“by” </b>the governor, not <b>“to”</b>
the governor. Until such time as the boards of election commissioners are
assigned <b>“to” </b>the office of
administration or an executive branch department, those boards have no more
authority to conduct election activities than a Wednesday night coed volleyball
league.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">In the governor’s election in 2012, Democrat
Jeremiah W. (Jay) Nixon defeated Republican David (Dave) Spence 1,494,056 to
1,160,265. Governor Nixon outpolled Spence 725,825 to 366,058 in the six board
of election commissioner counties: </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;">St. Louis 324,748 to
185,704; St. Louis City 117,979 to 19,478, Kansas City 107,474 to 23,806;
Jackson 94,008 to 73,518; Clay 57,962 to 43,398; Platte 23,654 to 20,154. Without
these six counties, Spence won 794,207 to 768,231. Similarly, in the Secretary
of State election, Democrat Jason Kander defeated Republican Shane Schoeller
1,298,022 to 1,258,937. But if you subtract the votes from the six board of
election commissioner counties (Kander 675,103 to Schoeller 382,293), Kander
lost 876,644 to 622,919. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: large; line-height: 115%;">In short, democrats
cannot win a statewide election without the votes from the six board of
election commissioner counties. But without a constitutional election
authority, the forty percent of the Missouri electorate residing in those six
counties are disenfranchised. Their votes cannot be counted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;">There are two ways to
return the franchise to the voters in the six affected counties. First,
Governor Nixon could assign the boards of election commissioners to the office
of administration or an executive branch department in accordance with Missouri
Constitution Art. IV, Section 12 and the OSRA. Second, the legislature could
assign the boards by a new law. Unless one of these two things happen,
Republicans have already swept the statewide elections in November. All that is
left is the final paperwork.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: large; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">******************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Copyright 8/2/16 by Bruce C. Cohen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Permission granted for reproduction with proper attribution.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> *****************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Bruce C. Cohen and Doni R. Miller are currently
challenging the 2014 elections for St. Louis County Executive and Prosecutor at
the Missouri Supreme Court, CAUSE NO. SC95793. Electronic copies of Appellants’
Brief are available upon request at </span><a href="mailto:bccohen1@earthlink.net"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">bccohen1@earthlink.net</span></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-78342902938865433812016-08-17T06:51:00.001-07:002016-08-17T06:51:35.305-07:00Trump Campaign Shake Up Press Release<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">AUGUST
17, 2016<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">FOR
IMMEDIATE RELEASE:</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcVmCWY9LeFFKGiTJLX0mk97AMZJLkuRXG0IZCv-XM25zXaIUY020pGV9Iye1hFhTgsmKUpoJ1s-T3iRxQctxGx1MIiCvbktvJAkFqDEhbRi79huV65DFyO0yhH-gSPzI5ELH5Nrk5fNOX/s1600/Trumpfinger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcVmCWY9LeFFKGiTJLX0mk97AMZJLkuRXG0IZCv-XM25zXaIUY020pGV9Iye1hFhTgsmKUpoJ1s-T3iRxQctxGx1MIiCvbktvJAkFqDEhbRi79huV65DFyO0yhH-gSPzI5ELH5Nrk5fNOX/s320/Trumpfinger.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Trump campaign announced a major shake up for the second time this political season. The executive chairman of Breitbart News LLC, Stephen Bannon, replaced Paul Manafort as the campaign's chief executive following Manafort's recent Ukrainian difficulties manufactured by the DNC and the Clinton campaign.</b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mr. Trump explained, "We are absolutely thrilled, absolutely thrilled to bring Stephen Bannon on board. Breitbart is the world-wide leading publisher of right wing fantasy and fanfic. The world-wide leader. With Stephen here, we can finally start ignoring facts altogether."</b></span></div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-3111720931371565922016-03-11T16:48:00.000-08:002016-03-21T11:27:21.614-07:00Ballroom caning from The Mercies of Cinderella by Ken Charles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmrEssJRCcU2DQvqy3YdZNyLYVB8UddWDYruKmbjEtQpelHIygFVg6pt5tf1_FTFezr2PK7IishcMdaeRBCPUeA8dGnCa9TFWYN3SBU3OgINf3E2Yqx41CpL4G3Yqs4l3-qttyZ31QIEl/s1600/CoverJan2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbmrEssJRCcU2DQvqy3YdZNyLYVB8UddWDYruKmbjEtQpelHIygFVg6pt5tf1_FTFezr2PK7IishcMdaeRBCPUeA8dGnCa9TFWYN3SBU3OgINf3E2Yqx41CpL4G3Yqs4l3-qttyZ31QIEl/s320/CoverJan2016.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> It had the curious appearance of
a ballroom dance. The twelve hand selected members of the Prince’s personal
guard, in their finest dress uniforms, strode into the Court in two files of
six. Each carried a four foot long cane at his side. As the two columns
approached the thrones, the last in line stopped. Every four steps thereafter,
the next in line from the rear would stop, until the first in each line stopped
ten paces from the thrones. The guards then took two steps apart, clicked their
heels once, then froze in rigid attention. Cinderella’s twelve Ladies in
Waiting, dressed in diaphanous translucent white camlets, entered next in two
files of six. When each had taken a place next to one of the guards, the Ladies
curtsied to Prince and Princess.</span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Begin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The Ladies turned around in
unison, and bent over and grabbed their ankles. Each guard then parted his
partner’s camlet at the rear, exposing twelve lovely pairs of creamy white
orbs. The guards snapped back to attention as Captain of the Guard came
forward, and bowed to the Prince and Princess. Captain of the Guard turned and
addressed the twelve pairs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “It is the duty of a Lady in
Waiting to attend to the needs and desires of her mistress. But the paramount
duty of every Lady, which rises above tending to the needs or desires of her
mistress, is to ensure the safety and well being of her mistress, even when it
might conflict with a Lady’s other duties. In this regard, these Ladies have
failed their mistress. While the fault might not be entirely their own, there
is still a price to be paid for such negligence.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Cinderella felt tears welling
up. She had not told any of them what she intended when she went for her ride.
Indeed, until she gave Snow Princess her apple, she had not even thought of
such a misadventure. It was not fair that her Ladies should have to pay for her
misdeeds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Assume positions. One!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Crack!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Twelve simultaneous cracks
echoed through the Court, accompanied by twelve concurrent gasps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Two!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Crack!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Twelve red lines appeared an
inch below twelve others. Twelve more gasps were followed by several
intermittent sobs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Three!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Crack!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The Prince and Princess looked
out at thirty-six fiery bars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Four!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Crack!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> A dozen yelps, and a dozen more
crimson weals leapt to the fore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Five!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Crack!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Tears fell readily as a fifth
line blazed forth, forming a dozen perfect staffs for musical compositions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Six!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Crack!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> A dozen vicious diagonal cuts
barred the gates. The guards snapped back to attention, as Captain of the Guard
turned back to the Prince.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “A full measure, Milord, as
ordered. Does it meet with Milord’s satisfaction?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Well done, Captain of the
Guard. You may dismiss your troops.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Captain of the Guard bowed, and
turned to his troops.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Company dismissed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The guards clicked their heels,
then retreated in the reverse order from their entry, leaving the weeping
Ladies bent over on display. When the last of the guards had left the Court,
Captain of the Guard turned back to the Prince and Princess, bowed, and took
his leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent">
<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> The Prince rose. </span><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">“I leave you, Milady, to deal
with your Ladies further as you deem meet and proper.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 36px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> Cinderella rose and curtsied to
the Prince.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> “Milord.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent">
<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;"> The Prince left the Court to the
fanfare of a dozen muted sobs. Once the great hall doors closed behind him,
Cinderella ran down the steps to the center of the room.</span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Come to me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The Ladies ran to Cinderella and
hugged her and each other. Together they cried.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;">****************************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent">
<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 150%;">Ready to read the rest? <a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_2006186390"> </a></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</a></span></span></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-73609841759859209402016-03-06T06:44:00.002-08:002016-03-06T06:44:49.205-08:00INTERPRETING YOUR NEW PUBLISHING CONTRACT<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> A publishing
contract is like any other contract. It establishes a business relationship
between the author and the publisher. It is not an admission to a private
social club. Although an author may feel privileged and proud to have a work
under contract, the purpose of the contract is to exploit and disseminate the
author’s work, not to stroke the author’s or the publisher’s egos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><st1:place w:st="on"><b>I.</b></st1:place><b> “Shall” vs. “May”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The publishing
contract sets out the road map for the parties’ dealings, specifying what
actions are required and so must be performed, and what actions are permitted
and so are within the parties’ contemplation, but may or may not occur.
Mandatory or required actions are frequently, though not exclusively, found in
a clause containing the word “shall”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Section 3--Within ten (10) days of
the execution of this Agreement, Author
shall deliver three, right justified, printed copies of the Work on 17”x 23.529411”
green paper to Publisher at <st1:address w:st="on"><st1:street w:st="on">Suite</st1:street>
123</st1:address>, Drilling Platform 138, <st1:place w:st="on">North Sea</st1:place>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Under this Section 3, the Author is required to deliver
three copies of the work in a specific form, at a specific place, within a
specified time period. Failure to perform any of these requirements constitutes
a breach of the contract. Even though 20” x 20” paper has the same total
surface area as 17” x 23.529411” paper, Author is required to use the latter
paper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Permissive
actions are frequently, though not exclusively, found in a clause containing
the word “may”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Section 4—Author may, in its sole
discretion, substitute an electronic copy in PDF format for any written
document or notice required or permitted to be sent under this Agreement. Any
such substituted document or notice may be sent by facsimile transmission or
e-mail in accordance with the contact provision of Section 3, 287 of this
Agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Under this Section 4, Author has the right, but not the
obligation, to fax or email a document, rather than send a printed copy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>II. Basic</b> <b>Contract Construction<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">“You keep using that
word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Inigo Montoya in <i>The Princess Bride </i>(1987)<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The primary
purpose of putting the parties’ agreement into writing is to make the parties’
rights and obligations clear. Unfortunately, sometimes the agreement isn’t as
clear as the parties expected. Courts assume that everything in a contract was
put there for a reason. Accordingly, wherever possible, a court will attempt to
give meaning to every word in a contract. Therefore, just because the parties
may disagree as to the meaning of a contract clause, it does not follow
necessarily that the contract clause is ambiguous or unenforceable as written.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Courts rely on a
number of different kinds of rules for interpreting a contract. The most
important rule, of course, is one that supports your position. That said, let’s
take a look at a few of the more common rules.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The first rule of
contract construction is that there is no need to interpret a contract if the
meaning is clear. Words are given their plain and ordinary meanings. If a
simple reading will suffice, then a court will look no further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Section Five—Author shall stand on
the corner of Fifth Ave and Main Street in a chicken suit for one hour,
commencing at 1:00 p.m. central standard time, on the third Tuesday in each
calendar month containing the English letter “Y”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This Section Five provides clear and unmistakable direction.
Author is required (“shall”) to stand in a specified place, at a specified
time, for a specified duration, in a specified manner of dress. There is no
question as to Author’s obligations under this clause. A court will not resort
to any rules of interpretation beyond the plain and ordinary meaning of the
words in the clause. (The wisdom of such a clause is not the court’s concern.
The clause was important to the parties or it wouldn’t have been included in
the contract.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> If there is some
question as to a party’s rights or obligations under a particular contract
clause, the next step is for a court to look at the contract as a whole to
determine the meaning of clause. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<h3 style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">“The maxim noscitur
a sociis, that a word is known by the company it keeps, while not an
inescapable rule, is often wisely applied where a word is capable of many
meanings in order to avoid the giving of unintended breadth…” JARECKI v. G. D. SEARLE & CO., 367 <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">U.S.</st1:country-region></st1:place>
303 (1961) <o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<span style="font-size: large;"> The meaning of general words that
follow specific ones is limited by the meaning of the specific words.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span><br />
<div style="margin-left: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>"The
rule of <em>ejusdem generis,</em> while firmly established, is only an
instrumentality for ascertaining the correct meaning of words when there is
uncertainty. Ordinarily, it limits general terms which follow specific ones to
matters similar to those specified...”<em> Gooch v. <st1:country-region w:st="on">United
States</st1:country-region>,</em> <span class="l-leftover"><a href="http://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/297/124/case.html">297 U. S.
124</a></span>, <span class="l-normaldigitafter"><a href="http://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/297/124/case.html#128">297 U.
S. 128</a></span> (1936)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Similarly, contract clauses that are specific take
precedence over general clauses (<i>generalia
specialibus non derogant </i>rule). Although
the Publisher may have the general right to control the cover design, if the
Author has the right to review or reject a cover, that exception will take
precedence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Another rule of construction worth noting
is the rule that “the expression of one thing excludes other things” (<i>expressio unius est exclusio alterius</i>). Sometimes,
what isn’t included in a contract is just as important as what is. When a
contract clause expressly provides that the Publisher has the right to do “A”,
“B” and “C”, then it does not have the right to do “D”. If the Publisher has
the right to review and correct the text, that does not mean that it has the
right to line edit and change those portions of the text that are not erroneous.
The right to correct means that the Publisher can fix mistakes such as closing
open quotations and replacing misspelled words with the proper spelling. It
doesn’t mean it can change the Author’s word choices. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Finally, while there are other rules of
construction, one rule particularly needs mentioning. When all else fails, and
a contract provision’s meaning is still unclear, then a court will construe a
contract against the party that drafted the provision (<i>contra preferentem</i> rule). In most cases, the contract will be
drafted by the publisher, and presented to the author on a “take or leave it”
basis. In such a case, where any doubt remains as to the meaning of a clause,
the court will construe the provision in question against the publisher.<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">III. The Zipper Clause<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-...
That's all, folks." Porky Pig<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Somewhere near
the end of the contract, there is probably a “zipper” clause. The zipper clause
(also known as a “merger clause” or “integration clause”) states that the contract
represents the entirety of the parties’ agreement. Any other writings or
representations to the contrary are of no force or effect. What the court sees
is what it gets. A strong zipper clause can cause a court to ignore evidence
about what was discussed in the formation of the contract (parol evidence). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> It is important
before signing a contract with a zipper clause to make sure that the contract
fairly and accurately reflects Author’s negotiations with Publisher. If the
Publisher talked about sending Author to an all expenses paid writer’s retreat
in <st1:country-region w:st="on">Fiji</st1:country-region>,
it better appear in the contract. If it doesn’t, Author will not be permitted
to argue, “But they said they would. That’s why I signed the contract.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">IV. Non-compliance –
Cure – Termination of Agreement<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">“Once more unto the
breach” Shakespeare<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> A failure to
follow the requirements of a contract is known as a “breach”. While every
breach of a contract constitutes some kind of violation of a party’s rights or
responsibilities, there is no hard and fast rule about the parties’ course of
conduct following a breach. Some breaches can be fixed or “cured”. Other
breaches cannot be fixed, and may lead to claims for damages and/or termination
of the contract.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> How the parties
respond to different breaches depends in part on their general course of
dealings. If the parties have been dealing professionally and respectfully with
each other, then it is more likely that minor breaches such as sending a
document a day late where time is not of the essence will be ignored by the
receiving party. However, where there is antipathy between the parties, even
minor breaches may become major issues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Treating the
other party professionally is more than a mere platitude or common sense. I
recently had a problem with a publisher that had total control over the cover
of one of my works. When I raised my concerns over the proposed cover with the
publisher, instead of attempting to address those concerns, the publisher
claimed its rights to control the cover under the contract. However, instead of
stopping at an assertion of its rights, the publisher chose to add in
gratuitous <i>ad hominem</i> attacks on me
for having the audacity to question its judgment. When the publisher committed
several breaches of the contract that were time sensitive and could not be
fixed or cured prospectively (a bell once rung cannot be unrung), I exercised
my right to terminate the agreement. Had the publisher addressed my concerns
over the cover in a professional manner, even if I was unhappy with the final
result, I might have been more forgiving of their subsequent breaches. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Some contracts
may include specific procedures for handling alleged breaches. For example, a
clause may require the aggrieved party to notify the offending party of the
nature of the breach, and give the offending party a certain amount of time to
fix or cure the problem. However, if the breach is not cured in a timely
manner, the offended party may be entitled to certain specified damages, or may
even be entitled to terminate the contract. If there are specific procedures in
the contract for raising the issue of a breach with the other party, then the
complaining party may be required to follow those procedures before seeking
relief in a court. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">V. And in Conclusion…<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The best contract
is one that the parties never need to consult. By maintaining a professional
relationship, it may be possible to resolve many issues without ever resorting
to the agreement. However, if it becomes necessary to review the contract, then
be sure to read not only any provision in question, but also any other
provisions that may help you understand it. Finally, when in doubt, don’t be
afraid to consult with legal counsel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Copyright CK 2/19/12</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-58491234803623253512015-08-19T07:50:00.000-07:002015-09-21T05:24:56.704-07:00FOX NEWS –THE ULTIMATE MMRPG FOR 65+ WHITE MALES<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> They
went to Europe and kicked Fascists’ and Nazis’ asses. They went to the south
Pacific and fought off hoards of slant-eyed devils. They came home and got
houses and cars and a wife and two kids. Their word at home was the law. They
got middle level management jobs and spanked and screwed their secretaries.
They said hosannas at the feet of Joe McCarthy. All was right with the world.
Then the world passed them by.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The
1960’s came and their world ended. Suddenly they couldn’t refuse to hire
minorities or give all of the choice work solely to white males. You could even
get sued for pinching your secretary’s ass. Then by the time free love came
into vogue, their hair lines were receding and their washboard abs were washed
out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> It
only got worse over the next two decades. Sure they learned how to use a Dictaphone.
But they still had to call their kids to come over and hook up the VCR and the
Atari. Then came the computer age. The more adventuresome had the kids set up
an AOL account. Some of them actually learned how to send an email. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">But technology was
moving too quickly. Computers shrank in size and phones grew beyond Alexander
Graham Bell’s wildest imaginings. Information was too readily available to too
many people. But too much information is overwhelming. People needed an escape
from reality, at least for a couple of hours. And thus was born the Massive
Multiplayer Online Role Play Game. While providing peace of mind to countless
youth, it did nothing to alleviate the mental anguish of The Greatest
Generation who don’t live grafted to their computers and smart phones. MMORPG
didn’t work because the “O” was missing from their lives. Fox News gallantly
rose up and filled the void.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> MMORPGs
create fantasy worlds where you can travel to other worlds, shoot monsters,
engage in felonies without fear of punishment, wage war, and make love without
worrying about safe sex. Fox News provides an idyllic world where the 1950’s
are brought back to life. For hours every day, one can sit back and listen to
vapid blondes talking about how a woman can only be happy if she is married and
how she needs to submit to her husband. Balding, overweight men will pontificate
about the evils of premarital sex, abortion,
welfare, immigration and the relentless war on Christianity. In short,
Fox News is nothing more than a Massive Multiplayer Role Play Game.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzvuREVXfOPe_h6rJ8susze_Xi9gR4VKgq_xyQCP2GS_6RteGXvx4csIVE1gAQXq4LYjw0cmFK2I3SMu9a0obnoKoVgGO0BvRjCF0QPpXP9N3bUwLMpBRgY72nUAL6PvSa8LcdPtBOAnlr/s1600/FNMEME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzvuREVXfOPe_h6rJ8susze_Xi9gR4VKgq_xyQCP2GS_6RteGXvx4csIVE1gAQXq4LYjw0cmFK2I3SMu9a0obnoKoVgGO0BvRjCF0QPpXP9N3bUwLMpBRgY72nUAL6PvSa8LcdPtBOAnlr/s320/FNMEME.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Instead
of letting Fox News raise your blood pressure because of a lack of factual
foundation for their reporting, just recognize Fox News for what it is, a
MMRPG. Facts have no relevance. In a fantasy world, the world builders control
reality. Accordingly, the facts are whatever the world builders want them to
be. If they want pigs to fly, then pigs will fly. If they think taking
healthcare away from millions of people and controlling a woman’s body is best
for society, then these things, indeed, are best for society. Just remember that
it is only best for society so long as you remain immersed in the MMRPG. Once
you reenter the real world, just as it is no longer permissible to steal cars
or blow things up, the Fox News fantasies must be left behind.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">CK
Copyright 2015; Moral rights to be identified as the author of the foregoing story
asserted worldwide (including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77
and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988) <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-71942113923388660632015-06-23T08:15:00.001-07:002015-06-27T12:42:09.684-07:00THE KIND OF TRUE TALES OF OSWIN WADDLES-KITTEN ADVENTURER<span style="font-size: large;">Alexx Starnes and I are proud to announce our new children's book is available at Amazon.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Seven short stories about the adventures of Oswin Waddles, the manx kitten adventurer. With her best friend Puffie the Fluffie, Oswin explores, hunts, decorates a cake, designs jewelry and makes new friends. She learns valuable life lessons along the way.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;">Includes genuine color photos of the black and white kitten.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.3999996185303px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE4_-nfEpCdorZgTnvi8n526EloQCZfKWLDEotJXu-xjX_9bvISDOZKGqcZWNCh3i5DQglDgGKoUhzVTIepEptcmO62tTpHUw2X1MpdfUOmsoXISRakpNrhOhWcSg3RdBG5ay0uL7LRwL/s1600/webb+cover+2_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE4_-nfEpCdorZgTnvi8n526EloQCZfKWLDEotJXu-xjX_9bvISDOZKGqcZWNCh3i5DQglDgGKoUhzVTIepEptcmO62tTpHUw2X1MpdfUOmsoXISRakpNrhOhWcSg3RdBG5ay0uL7LRwL/s320/webb+cover+2_resized.jpg" width="192" /></a></div>
<a href="http://t.co/G2S1DJwVV1">http://t.co/G2S1DJwVV1</a> <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
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http://www.amazon.de/TALES-WADDLES-KITTEN-ADVENTURER-English-Edition-ebook/dp/B0106NXB6U </div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-56397075131038814112015-06-07T14:13:00.002-07:002015-06-07T14:13:46.223-07:00TWO FRAMEWORKS FOR PEACE IN THE “WAR AGAINST CHRISTIANS”<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be known as busybodies.
Notwithstanding, it is time to put an end to the conservative Christians’
persecution by the secular left. As a lifelong member of the latter, it
behooves me to take a stand before it is too late. Since the 2016 elections are
looming, we need to end the war now so that at least a small portion of the
election season can be devoted to addressing real issues. Accordingly, let me
proffer a two pronged olive branch in the interests of peace as follows:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .75in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">I.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->PLAN A-TOTAL SURRENDER AND CAPITULATION BY THE SECULAR
LEFT; or<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-left: .75in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.5in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: large;">II.<span style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->PLAN B-TRY A LITTLE TOLERANCE ON THE RIGHT<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Let us take a moment to explore Plan A.
This Plan has only two prerequisites. First, the conservative Christians
(hereinafter referred to as the “Persecuted”) need to prove the existence of
their deity. Objective proof of the existence of the Persecuted’s deity will go
a long way towards forcing the narrow minded secular lefties to consider the
potential benefits to establishing and enforcing the dictates of a theocracy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Second, the Persecuted need to prove their
credentials to make representations on behalf of the deity established in step
one. Unfortunately, just proving the existence of their deity will not suffice,
since there are over 40,000 different Christian sects and countless
non-Christian sects. Accordingly, if the Persecuted want the slavish devotion
of secular lefties, they must demonstrate that their word is the one, true,
infallible Word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Given the difficulties in providing proof
of the existence of the Persecuted’s deity, let us take a moment to consider
Plan B. Plan B is really simple. All the Persecuted have to do is acknowledge
that not everyone agrees with them. Given the aforesaid over 40,000 Christian
sects alone, even the Persecuted do not agree amongst themselves. This lack of
agreement or even consensus need not affect the Persecuted’s core beliefs. It
only requires them to accept that their beliefs are only their beliefs, and
that said beliefs may not be shared by others. The secular lefties already
understand that not everyone believes exactly what they believe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> In practice, accepting the concept that
other people may not share the Persecuted’s beliefs will require some
behavioral modifications. The Persecuted’s deity always agrees with whatever
the Persecuted want. It hates whatever the Persecuted hate. But this
personalized deity only works for the Persecuted, and not for anyone else. Accordingly,
when making representations on behalf of the deity, the Persecuted will have to
learn to use the possessive adjective “my”. For example, “My God hates ______
(insert appropriate hated object, i.e. Jews, Blacks, Feminists, non-sculpted
body types, avocados, Jayhawks).” Eventually, the repeated use of the adjective
“my” will help the Persecuted understand just how narrow minded, bigoted and
obnoxious they are when directing, commanding or dictating how everyone who is
different from the Persecuted has to live her or his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Once the Persecuted accept the simple
concept that not everyone agrees with them, the “War on Christians” will be
over. A brave new world of perceptions will arise in which everyone is entitled
to their own beliefs without the need to reinforce their insecurities over said
beliefs by forcing others to join in said beliefs. AND THE LAND SHALL KNOW
PEACE AT LAST.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; mso-pagination: widow-orphan;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>CK copyright 2015. Moral rights to be
identified as the author of the foregoing article asserted worldwide (including
in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright,
Designs and Patent Act of 1988)</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-19099989150435675452014-10-01T13:16:00.002-07:002014-10-01T13:16:42.273-07:00 Welcome to the Seven Realms Earthside Communications Center<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Greetings Traveler, and welcome to the Seven Realms Earthside Communications Center (SRECC). Whether you've just arrived Earthside, or have been stranded here for a while, the SRECC will provide you with valuable information during your stay. Access to the Golden Way is available in most metropolitan areas, and at several burned out rest stops along old US Route 66.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">For the sake of uniformity, the SRECC uses Earthside English as its principal language. Plans are under consideration for mirror sites in Qpiad and High Sidhe, subject to funding availability and limitless temporal resources.The SRECC will be updated continuously, beginning with the next update, and continuing thereafter whenever an update is available. All updates are retrospective in nature and may be considered concurrently, sequentially, or out of natural order.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The SRECC is not responsible for any temporal anomalies resulting from fluctuations in the Veil.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">The next meeting of the Board of Directors will be open to the public at Djinnie's Bar and Grill on 9th St., starting promptly at 12:00 (that's half past anvil on your Godmother Clock) on the last vernal equinox.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Any questions may be directed to the Oracle at Delphi, or sent directly to Charlie Kenmore, Administrator at this Blog or charliekenmore@gmail.com</span>Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-81393321519304833102014-10-01T07:17:00.003-07:002014-10-01T07:17:27.479-07:00Charlie Kenmore Imaginarium Convention 2014 Awards<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">PREEEEEEEESENTING! The first ever, never before awarded, never even heretofore imagined, Charlie Kenmore Imaginarium Convention 2014 Awards. So with tongue firmly planted in cheek (which does not affect my typing), here are the winners:</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Horseless White Knight Award -- <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1111305817&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A534695456657172%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/FrankLHall" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Frank Hall</a> & <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1079976426&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A534695456657172%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/tony.acree" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Tony Acree</a> for their brilliant save of a damsel who didn’t know she was in distress.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Are Their Asses Still Attached After Working Them Off Award-- Eric and Kylie Jude.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Energizer Bunny Award -- <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=39807274&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A534695456657172%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/andrea.judy" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Andrea Judy</a> for outlasting the Masquerade DJ.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Best Pearly Whites of Show -- <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100001283438126&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A534695456657172%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/alexandra.christian1" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Alexandra Christian</a>.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She Who Will Be Obeyed Award -- <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1540366266&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A534695456657172%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/lee.martindale" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Lee Martindale</a> for, ‘nuff said.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Leaving Good Samaritans in the Dust Award-- Joann H. Buchanan and Jill Campbell and He (who shall not be named) for -- they know.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Maniac, Maniac on the Floor Award -- Alexx Momcat for her gripping performance in the “Time Warp”.<br /><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZjHgknVsbA&list=PL6XUJtx8uCM6bUzmcCI0IdrwWAyJcQp5p" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZjHgknVsbA&list=PL6XUJtx8uCM6bUzmcCI0IdrwWAyJcQp5p</a></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It’s a Small, Small World Award -- The Benns Family and Alexx Momcat and Charlie Kenmore for driving 250 miles to meet people who live 15 minutes apart.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Cupid, Diana and Robin Hood Eat Your Hearts Out Award -- Mysti Parker.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">My Eyes Are Up Here Award -- Violet Patterson for her corset enhanced performance at the Masquerade.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Best Party Crasher Award -- Paddlelump Stonemonger for his incomparable reading of tea leaves.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21.466667175293px; margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Best Choreography Award--The Masquerade Dancers for the “Time Warp”.<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZjHgknVsbA&list=PL6XUJtx8uCM6bUzmcCI0IdrwWAyJcQp5p" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZjHgknVsbA&list=PL6XUJtx8uCM6bUzmcCI0IdrwWAyJcQp5p</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Most Likely to Threaten to Lick You in Public Award -- Susan Roddey for making Alexx Momcat laugh.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Best Candy in Show--Rebekah McAuliffe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Granny of the Con Award -- MeMe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Miss, Can I Get Some More Coffee Award -- Selah Janel for her performance as “Flora”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Real Men Wear Kilts Award--The male ringer (Gil Hough) at the Masquerade dance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Largest Headwear Award -- Violet Patterson for the Mad Hatter’s Hat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Real Men Read Dinoporn Award--Bill Roddey for his actions, not his words.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Biggest Puppy Dog Eyes in Show-- Rhianna Benns for her brilliant performance conning Alexx Momcat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Best Hide and Seek Player in Plain Sight-- Alice Roddey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Celebrities Are People Too Award--Jeffrey Reddick for talking to everyone like they mattered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Least Obsessed With Personal Space Award -- Alexandra Christian.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lady Godiva Wannabee Award -- Lee Martindale.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don’t Ask Me, I’m Just the Driver Award -- Tally Johnson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Best Ensemble Performance Award--The Masquerade Dancers for “Paradise By the Dashboard Lights”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Working in a Cathouse Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Means Award--Randy Richards for his feline impersonations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Only 3 More Cons to Break Even Award--Scott Sandridge and Charlie Kenmore for their fifth panel together through 3 Cons and finally breaking the 10 participant mark.*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now That’s a Conga Line Award--The Masquerade Dancers for “Jump in the Line”. <a href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F2o-nAZsAv3c&h=GAQHOboS5&enc=AZOgbG4XXhEEbXO9o-aNgVfXtqXYhMieb3U88as1KOPnMxlPwBsZX7iwk-dAprdfBWqcSl3OciEXnR__HvvWqHi-QB18yYxzf7ilQCVLaAh8GXy0pSJZZf5eqd-NbYlAuqfzIuVNWR8G-riH87NPDqPbT1dFdctEE5llk6mBatr-8A&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F2o-nAZsAv3c&h=hAQHVEOxA</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">AND FINALLY---</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">NOW THAT’S HOW YOU THROW A LITERARY CON AWARD--Stephen Zimmer, Susan Roddy, Frank Hall and all the incredible staff and volunteers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">* And one fire alarm.</span></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-10841493948975265092014-03-25T07:54:00.000-07:002016-03-08T05:42:51.289-08:00SSB-Excerpt from Ken Charles's "Psyche & Metaphysic"<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<b> <span style="font-size: large;">Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. In Ken Charles's "Psyche & Metaphysic" found in the <i>Two Sides of a Bent Mind</i> 10 story collection by Ken Charles and Charlie Kenmore coming soon, a young lady is gravely wronged by a school mate Priscilla Andrews who steals away her beloved. She takes exquisite revenge, but first.... </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></b></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: 10.45pt;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!</span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Twenty-two. Thank you, Sir. May I
have the next?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I was sentenced to two dozen strokes
with a cane. Have you ever been caned, Cousin? It was horrid. Do you remember
the time when Auntie caught us helping ourselves to Mrs. Johnson’s preserves? I
thought Auntie’s lesson in manners with her hairbrush would never end. But the
cane is much worse!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">First, I had to bend over the
Deacon’s desk, and grip the far side. Mrs. Tomkins came over and turned up my
dress and petticoats. I was scared and embarrassed. Someone was lecturing me
about my outrageous behavior, but I really did not hear much of it. At some
point, Mrs. Tomkins lowered my knickers. Matters became much clearer a moment
later.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">A line of fire exploded across the
middle of my bare bum! I gasped. Surely that stroke was more than sufficient
punishment.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Since you failed to thank me and
count the stroke, we will begin again!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Count the ...?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I remembered! I was to receive
twenty-four strokes, which I was required to count. Further, since this woeful
procedure was for my edification, I was required to express my gratitude for
each stroke.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Two! Thank you, Sir!” May you burn
forever in the hottest depths of Hades!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“That was only one, Miss Ginn.
Perhaps you forgot that I had to start over.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“No, Sir. One, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">A third line of lava erupted just
below the other two. A fourth, fifth and then a sixth searing stroke soon
followed. Six flaming furrows blazed across my backside. I wept softly, but
kept track of each cut. A seventh stroke cut diagonally across its six parallel
predecessors, “barring the gate”. I screamed and jumped up. My hands flew to my
poor bottom.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Get back into position! No one gave
you permission to rise or to rub your bottom.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“P-Please, S-Sir. Let me have a
moment.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I have never known such exquisite
pain, and pray never to know it again. There was no way that I could take
another seventeen cuts. I was certain that I would swoon.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Back into position! Andrews, go
around the desk and hold her hands.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Strangely, aside from a commutation
of my sentence, that was the nicest thing the Deacon (may he choke on a chicken
bone) could have said. The pain was in no manner diminished, yet suddenly it
was no longer foremost in my mind. Instead, all of my attention focused on the
smirking visage of the one who would soon pay for these atrocities. I wiped the
tears from my eyes. I wanted to watch Andrews without any distortion. As I
leaned back over the desk, I knew that I would get through this ordeal, without
shedding another shameful tear.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">The doleful depuration continued, as
the Deacon was determined to deracinate my depravities. The Deacon changed
sides to deliver strokes eight through twelve from the other side. It did not
really matter, a thousand bee stings is a thousand bee stings. I counted
dutifully and obsequiously. At thirteen, the Deacon changed sides again.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Thirteen, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Fourteen, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">It is extraordinary how time distends
itself. Although I was in the Deacon’s study for no more than fifteen minutes,
I had hours to plan an appropriate reward for the treacherous Miss Andrews.
Most certainly there would be pain, and copious amounts of it in fair
recompense for my extraordinary discomfort and discommodity. But there would
have to be something more. Indeed, there would have to be something to show
dear Robert that I, alone, was worthy of his affections.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Twenty-three, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Thwack!<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 5.95pt; text-indent: 10.45pt;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Twenty-four, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I looked up at Priscilla, and caught
her eye. I smiled. Priscilla shuddered, and released my hands. Curiously, she
was no longer smirking.</span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 150%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></span>
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<div style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.272726058959961px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">KC Copyright 2005; Moral rights to be identified as the author of “Psyche & Metaphysic" asserted worldwide (including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988)</span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">*************************************</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , "tahoma" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 17.563634872436523px;">Check out the great new review by Rollin Hand for <i>The Mercies of Cinderella</i> at Spanking Stories Book Club.</span><a href="http://writercelestejones.blogspot.com/" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17.563634872436523px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://writercelestejones.blogspot.com/</a></span><br />
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">*************************************</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the <span class="mw972" id="mw972_2" style="border-left-color: transparent; border-right-color: transparent; border-style: solid; border-top-color: transparent; border-width: 1px; color: #009900; cursor: pointer; display: inline; float: none; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: underline;">key word</span> being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.272726058959961px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">~*~</span><br /><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.272726058959961px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px;">
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="mw972" id="mw972_4" style="border-left-color: transparent; border-right-color: transparent; border-style: solid; border-top-color: transparent; border-width: 1px; color: #009900; cursor: pointer; display: inline; float: none; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; text-decoration: underline;">Check out</span> the rest of the fun at the Saturday Spankings Bloghop http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="line-height: 150%;"></span><br /></div>
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<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">~*~</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Also available from Ken Charles:</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #2932d5; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid rgb(213, 41, 50); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="222" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</b></i><br /><br /><br />http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU<br /><br />For our friends in Europe:<br /><br />http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; text-align: left;">
<div style="line-height: 18px;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: medium;">The Mercies of Cinderella </span></i></b></div>
<div style="line-height: 16.8px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br />This is no <span class="mw972" id="mw972_6" style="border-left-color: transparent; border-right-color: transparent; border-style: solid; border-top-color: transparent; border-width: 1px; color: #009900; cursor: pointer; display: inline; float: none; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: underline;">Disney princess</span>!</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWK_MuKV_5oJclsFvaASNBd9QZs6NquSvNeGVGJJvaZQHdbSqMFMN0i43eqVRceJmCkeIPPvs1j8A4vurixRPv6puSo1L-xfo2Sm3y0kx6FnnBycDQN-qLn2ZoZFVE6TRHxM0EtdiHuss6/s1600/CoverJan2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWK_MuKV_5oJclsFvaASNBd9QZs6NquSvNeGVGJJvaZQHdbSqMFMN0i43eqVRceJmCkeIPPvs1j8A4vurixRPv6puSo1L-xfo2Sm3y0kx6FnnBycDQN-qLn2ZoZFVE6TRHxM0EtdiHuss6/s320/CoverJan2016.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKOUnd0TSsOrTNf3XiRHBSYGXogCGF7Izhim3XvEo6Ucj9TbUpDQcw2qtoOx0e0arpusjM_2JvPK2d5OoqKBOj7k8j04mTfGyQQV96L6GlkwmpwX8gEFVxR_CceDJ2ZNyAGjRdrnzeXxq/s1600/mercies500x755_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span style="color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</span></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-31441047696112950922014-03-19T18:00:00.001-07:002016-03-08T05:43:50.068-08:00SSB- Excerpt from Ken Charles's "There's Something Naughty About Mary"<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. I'm sure you all agree that driving without insurance can be risky. If she didn't know before, Mary certainly learns this lesson in this excerpt from "There's Something Naughty About Mary" from the <i>Naughty Ladies of Cotton Glen</i>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Jack took a step back,
and measured carefully with the cane. He raised his arm, and delivered a slash
across the center of Mary’s waiting ass. She let out a scream as a line of
fire burned through the scant protection of her panties. Before she could catch
her breath, a second cut left a parallel streak of pain. A third cut just above
the first left her face contorted, and her bottom in agony.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextFirstIndent" style="line-height: 150%;">
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Jeri came over and
stroked Mary’s hair. “Just three more, baby, and you’re finished for tonight.”
She lifted Mary’s head, “Look at me!” Jeri nodded, and Jack gave Mary a fourth
searing cut across the tops of her thighs. Mary screamed again. The fifth cut was
no more appealing to her. For the final cut, he slashed down on an angle,
barring the gate. Mary failed to appreciate fully his artistry with the cane.
But Jeri, lowering Mary’s panties noted with admiration the five red welts
linked by a single angry red streak.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
~*~</div>
<div style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">KC Copyright 2005; Moral rights to be identified as the author of “There's Something Naughty About Mary" asserted worldwide (including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988)</span><br /><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*************************************</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">~*~</span><br /><span style="line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Check out the rest of the fun at the Saturday Spankings Bloghop http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Also available from Ken Charles:</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #2932d5; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid rgb(213, 41, 50); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="222" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</b></i><br /><br /><br />http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU<br /><br />For our friends in Europe:<br /><br />http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; text-align: left;">
<div style="line-height: 18px;">
<b><i><span style="font-size: large;">The Mercies of Cinderella </span></i></b></div>
<div style="line-height: 16.8px;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br />This is no Disney princess!</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7UaHW3FPl7zLHWb4OAf0KBh49tQlPWvOMBUla_wEnzwtBKcm_YcnL98CEp82CROGPfx-1Vw2At0A7wsy-Eo94Kis7lvo2jMrwmQIhXYF1zWs0_ETp1wY4uq8_nHq_PszNdTOFL6chGTlX/s1600/coverjan2016Kindle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7UaHW3FPl7zLHWb4OAf0KBh49tQlPWvOMBUla_wEnzwtBKcm_YcnL98CEp82CROGPfx-1Vw2At0A7wsy-Eo94Kis7lvo2jMrwmQIhXYF1zWs0_ETp1wY4uq8_nHq_PszNdTOFL6chGTlX/s320/coverjan2016Kindle.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKOUnd0TSsOrTNf3XiRHBSYGXogCGF7Izhim3XvEo6Ucj9TbUpDQcw2qtoOx0e0arpusjM_2JvPK2d5OoqKBOj7k8j04mTfGyQQV96L6GlkwmpwX8gEFVxR_CceDJ2ZNyAGjRdrnzeXxq/s1600/mercies500x755_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</span></span></span></div>
</div>
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</div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-7047930410076937322014-03-10T08:51:00.000-07:002020-04-01T05:05:04.487-07:00Stir Crazy Relief 1.5 - Ken Charles' - THE PERILS OF THE “SPENCER PLAN”<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Now, Mister! I told you three minutes ago to turn off that set! It’s 9:58, and you know the </span><span style="font-size: large;">rules.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “B-But the game is tied, and there are less than two minutes to go!”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “I don’t care. You know the rules. When an evening punishment is to be administered, it </span><span style="font-size: large;">shall start at 10:00 p.m. sharp, without any excuses or delay. So get your ass upstairs, now!”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Please, have a heart. Twice a day, six days in a row! Look. Look at me. I’m still all red </span><span style="font-size: large;">and swollen. Please, please, please, Maggie. Let me off just this once.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “What part of no excuses or delays do you not understand? Besides, as I recall, including </span><span style="font-size: large;">the Spencer Plan in the antenuptial agreements was your idea. Rule Number Ten provides, </span><span style="font-size: large;">‘Spencer doctrines call for -the PROMPT ACCEPTANCE of the discipline. There must be </span><span style="font-size: large;">no argument, no protest - no pleading to be let off - no hard feelings about it!’ I warned you to </span><span style="font-size: large;">be careful what you asked for.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Yes, you did. But you never said how much you loved to be spanked!”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> “Tough luck, Buster. You caught me smoking and that is a spankable offense. And I lied </span><span style="font-size: large;">about it, so that means I get another spanking first thing in the morning. Now move it!”</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">KC Copyright 2005; Moral rights to be identified as the author of “The Perils of the 'Spencer Plan'" asserted worldwide (including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">*************************************</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">~*~</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18px;">Check out the rest of the fun at the Saturday Spankings Bloghop http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">~*~</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Also available from Ken Charles:</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #2932d5; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid rgb(213, 41, 50); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="222" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<i><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</b></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">For our friends in Europe:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>The Mercies of Cinderella </i></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br />This is no Disney princess!</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXDPTp5IRwLaIt1QhLdN3ZZOAkOXcYfjdVDiqPenT7tqSU6b-lC1eXZlYuuxZsEWrWef_-skUu0012A3beGs3cOCtK1zbHpeO4kK6zVy15PCX7W9-MZ3unYxFwI3HwXMRpr5sn45dw0_U5/s1600/CoverJan2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXDPTp5IRwLaIt1QhLdN3ZZOAkOXcYfjdVDiqPenT7tqSU6b-lC1eXZlYuuxZsEWrWef_-skUu0012A3beGs3cOCtK1zbHpeO4kK6zVy15PCX7W9-MZ3unYxFwI3HwXMRpr5sn45dw0_U5/s320/CoverJan2016.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKOUnd0TSsOrTNf3XiRHBSYGXogCGF7Izhim3XvEo6Ucj9TbUpDQcw2qtoOx0e0arpusjM_2JvPK2d5OoqKBOj7k8j04mTfGyQQV96L6GlkwmpwX8gEFVxR_CceDJ2ZNyAGjRdrnzeXxq/s1600/mercies500x755_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</a></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-24394232137799400622014-02-12T07:24:00.000-08:002016-03-08T05:41:27.999-08:00SSB- KEN CHARLES'S "THE SOLE OF THE MATTER"<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. Let's get Chekhovian! Okay, for the three of you who are lost, tonight's flash offering relies entirely on indirect action. Russian author and playwright Anton Chekhov was the master of indirect action. Basically, nothing of import ever happens on stage in a Chekhov play. Most of our beloved SSB snippets are much the same, since there is precious little space for back story in eight or nine lines. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Caveat--Spanking is for adults, not children. However, exceptions can be made for students who have reached the age of eighteen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Now, presented in its entirety without commercial interruptions is "The Sole of the Matter". Enjoy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Look, Mr. Osbourne, her parents are threatening to
sue the Academy. But all they really want is an apology from you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Well, damn their apology! My actions were fully in
accordance with the Student Disciplinary Code, Article Six, Section F which states that a third reportable incident in any quarter may result, <i>in the sole discretion of the instructor, </i>in the administration of corporal punishment including up to six strokes with a sole. I gave Tamara every opportunity to come into compliance before exercising my discretion, and administering exactly six strokes with a sole."</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif";"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Yes, her parents understand that the rule states
that you may administer up to six strokes with a sole, but, dammit man, you’re
the golf coach!”</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;">~*~</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;">An
Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><span style="color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 9.0pt;"><br />
</span><span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br />
I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments.
Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least
give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word
being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some
nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual
(same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I
had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my
end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;">****************************************************************</span></div>
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<span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Check out the rest of the fun at </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">****************************************************************************</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It doesn't matter which side of the pond you blog hop from, certain events always stir one's national pride. So check out Ken Charles's reports from the CP Olympics in Sochi.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #090b38; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 19.5pt;">CP OLYMPICS-MEN’S COMPULSORIES IN CANE </span></div>
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<a href="http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2014/02/ken-charless-cp-olympics-mens.html" style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #090b38; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 19.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 24px;">http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2014/02/ken-charless-cp-olympics-mens.html</span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #090b38; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 19.5pt;">CP OLYMPICS-WOMEN'S FINAL IN OTK BARE BOTTOM HAIRBRUSH SIXTY CRACK SPRINT</span></div>
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<span style="color: #090b38; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 19.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #090b38; font-family: "arial" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 19.5pt;">http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2014/02/cp-olympics-womens-final-in-otk-bare.html<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;">Also available from Ken Charles:</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #7c171d; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgswP-REFuS4z4ZHtoKBwT5H8447kVsv7XPWfEt1Toi-J7OrB5WdkfqbXSDqI0BrF7TYr12IX9GtfQAbPllgIG7cmVvjtAydAXEyoa29nkBP2iTV4x0okKDBRNPS7aPer3NCdjQ4-FApf_1/s1600/Cover-BCC2a.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; background-color: #2932d5; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; border-bottom-right-radius: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 0px; border-top-right-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid rgb(213, 41, 50); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="222" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 18.66666603088379px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</b></i><br /><br /><br />http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU<br /><br />For our friends in Europe:<br /><br />http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span></div>
<div style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.2727px;">
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
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<b><i><span style="font-size: medium;">The Mercies of Cinderella </span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br />This is no Disney princess!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #121670; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</span></span></div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-43779458246609082902014-02-06T11:50:00.000-08:002014-02-06T11:50:08.768-08:00WORDS, WORDS, WORDS--WELL, DUH, HAMLET<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination: widow-orphan; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">A way of putting it --
not very satisfactory:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A periphrastic study in
a worn-out poetical fashion,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Leaving one still with
the intolerable wrestle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With words and meaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">T. S. Eliot<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I like words. I have whole books devoted
to them. Truth be told, I have whole shelves on a bookcase dedicated to them. I
have, <i>inter alia</i>, dictionaries
(Oxford-Universal and OED, Webster’s, World Book, Stedman’s), thesauruses
(Roget’s, Webster’s, Random House), and books of quotations such as <i>The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations </i>from
which the above quote from T. S. Eliot derived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> What is a word? A word is nothing more
than a unit of language sufficient to convey meaning, a morphological building
block if you will. Yes, some words (generally polysyllabic in nature) though
morphemes (minimum units of meaning) themselves, may be divided into several
smaller morphemes, each of which conveys its own meaning. But it is the “word”
that gets the job done. Seriously. When was the last time you used “ed” all by
itself in a conversation? (Sorry, <i>The Ed Show</i> doesn’t count.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Whether composing an email or a novel, any
writer’s job is to convey meaning in a written form. When writing for oneself,
neither the word choice nor the order is of particularly great import. In
short, it is acceptable to list detergent next to eggs on a shopping list.
However, when the writing is intended to convey meaning to another individual,
the choice of words and the order of presentation may be critical.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> If
the purpose of a word is to convey meaning, why not choose the shortest and
simplest word in every context? In simplest terms, “meaning” includes more than
literally what something is. The connotations of a word will color the meaning
to create the appropriate mental landscape to place the word in the proper
context, and thereby fully convey the writer’s intent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> “Deaving thunder in complete and total
silence.” This is the second sentence in <i>Earth
Angel</i>. Several people have asked me why I used the word “deaving” instead
of the more common word “deafening”. Resisting the urge to say that “deaving”
is shorter and then sticking my tongue out, the word “deaving” means “deafening”,
but the connotations are “stupefying with noise”. The thunder isn’t merely
loud. It is stupefying. It was that added zing that “stupefying” adds that I
wanted to convey. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The Russians have a saying, “Repetition is
the mother of learning.” As a writer, my saying is “Repetition is the mother of
a major edit.” If a writer wants to keep
a reader’s interest, then it is imperative to vary descriptions. Blood may be “red”
in chapter one, but it should be “crimson” or “rubescent" in chapter two.
In short, writers need lots of words in their literary quivers if they hope to
hit a reader’s bullseye. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Science fiction and fantasy readers are a
pleasure to write for, because they pick up a story with an open mind and a
fully engaged willing suspension of disbelief. Their willingness to explore the
unknown with an author allows the author greater latitude to use words that are
uncommon or are past their heyday. It won’t bother these readers if a character
dresses in a camblet. Accordingly, let me close with a luculent obsecration for
my reader’s patience and understanding if my love of words sometimes strikes
you as a confusing admixture of erudition and verbosity. Please keep in mind
that the purpose of each word is not only to connect the dots, but also to
shade and color all of the space in between.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for letting me
ramble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">CK 1/6/12</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-33264729483585549902014-02-05T08:12:00.000-08:002014-02-05T08:47:42.165-08:00SSB-CP Excerpt from EARTH ANGEL<span style="font-size: large;">Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. It's not fair for Ken to have all the fun, so here is something from Earth Angel by Charlie Kenmore. Prince Dzhok of the Qpiad ("Jack" when Earthside) is fondly recalling the day Salash's eyes turned green (the sign of maturity in the High Sidhe), the day they made love for the first time, and the events leading up to that moment. Salash had just used her powers to move the roots of an iron banyon tree, causing Jack to fall into a river. Jack had no sense of humor. Enjoy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~ </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> She could have trounced him in a fair fight.
The High Sidhe are much stronger physically than the Qpiad who are primarily
lovers, not fighters. But this was not a
fair fight. She had managed to get her hands in front of her, and had pushed up
arching her body. Jack used her arch to his advantage and slid his bent knee
under her tummy. She threw a hand back to ward him off, but he grabbed her hand
and twisted her arm behind her back.
What came next was unthinkable! So without thinking, he raised his right
hand and brought it flashing downward resulting in a resounding smack on her
pert little upturned bottom. Before she could utter the first of many “Ouch”’s,
“How dare you”’s, and “I’m telling”’s, the second hard smack was on its way.
Whack! Smack! Crack! Salash wriggled and squirmed, but he held her securely
over his knee. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">Here’s
how to find the rest of the fun at Saturday Spankings Blogspot.</span></div>
<span style="background: #C2E5C1; color: #121670; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background: #C2E5C1; color: #121670; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></span></div>
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</span><span style="background: #C2E5C1; color: #121670; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;"><br />
~*~</span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<div style="line-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Be sure to check out Ken Charles's free cp short story valentine “The Widow" on this blog. http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2014/01/ken-charless-valentine-widow.html</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">An
Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span></div>
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1;"><span style="color: #121670; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; line-height: 32px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1;">
<span style="color: #121670; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 200%;">I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments.
Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least
give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word
being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some
nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual
(same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I
had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my
end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span></div>
</span></span><br />
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<span style="background: #C2E5C1; color: #121670; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="background: #C2E5C1; color: #121670; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 18.0pt;">Check out Earth Angel: </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">http://www.amazon.com/Earth-Angel-Charlie-kenmore/dp/1615724850/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1391616317&sr=1-2&keywords=Earth+Angel+Kenmore</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;">There are seven parallel worlds known as the Seven Realms which are separated by a Veil. Six are inhabited by all manner of entities, some natural, some not. That may not be the case for much longer. The first portion of the High Sidhe Prophecy of the Sevens has been fulfilled. The Anarch, who is one with the Veil, has escaped. If she chooses, she can part or drop the Veil or she can lift the Veil in its entirety. The Seven Realms will converge. The laws of physics and magic will collide head on. Unless she is stopped, there will be nothing left. Queen Amura has called for an assembly of the signatories to the High Sidhe's Second Accords, a multi-realm peace treaty to consider how to deal with the threat of the Anarch. An Earthside TechnoWitch and other dark forces also are seeking to control the Anarch. Prince Dzhok (Jack) , High Sidhe Ambassador Salash (Jack's oldest friend and lover), and Valkyrie Brunhilde set out to find and befriend the Anarch before all is lost.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-9828045556560745882014-01-30T08:18:00.000-08:002016-03-08T05:40:15.389-08:00SSB - Ken Charles's "The Lighthouse"<span style="font-size: large;">What could be more dramatic than adventure on the high seas? <i>The Sea Hawk, Mutiny on the Bounty, Master and Commander</i>, well, not exactly. <i>The Perfect Storm</i>, getting closer. Here is "The Lighthouse". Enjoy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">CRACK!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen! Thunder with no
lightning?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“Hell, it’s the storm of the decade out there,
Captain! We must be nearing Friar’s Point by </span><span style="font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: large;">now. But where the hell is the beacon?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“Storm must have knocked it out. But don’t worry,
lad. Old Man MacGregor has manned </span><span style="font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: large;">that lighthouse for forty years. He’ll find a way
to guide us home.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">CRACK!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“But I thought the Old Man’s retired, Sir! His
Granddaughter took over last year.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“Doesn’t matter. In a storm like this, MacGregor is
sure to lend a helping hand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“Look thirty degrees aft, Captain. There’s a
glowing red light! It’s faint, but it must be coming from </span><span style="font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: large;">the lighthouse!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“Told you MacGregor would find a way!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times-roman" , "sans-serif"; font-size: large;">“From now on, you’ll do the bloody scheduled
maintenance on schedule! And get that </span><span style="font-family: , sans-serif; font-size: large;">bottom up higher, Missy. There are sailors
depending on us!” CRACK!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">KC Copyright 2005; Moral rights to be identified as the author of “The Lighthouse” asserted worldwide (including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act of 1988)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">*************************************</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br />I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large; line-height: 22.90909194946289px;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be sure to check out Ken Charles's free cp short story valentine “The Widow" on this blog. http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-widow-by-ken-charles.html</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Also available from Ken Charles:</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</b></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For our friends in Europe:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>The Mercies of Cinderella </i></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br />This is no Disney princess!</span></span><br />
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-67628426997045149602014-01-24T10:16:00.000-08:002014-01-24T10:16:42.520-08:00RES JUDICATA DAY against Naughty Nights Press<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It's RES JUDICATA DAY! The default judgment against Naughty Nights Press is final. Time to file a DMCA suit in federal court.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: whitesmoke; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-10358071073354372212014-01-23T15:07:00.000-08:002016-03-21T11:25:50.912-07:00SSB-- 4th Excerpt from Ken Charles's "The Mercies of Cinderella"<span style="font-size: large;">Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. Tonight's offering is from the morning of Cinderella's wedding day from Ken Charles's <i>The Mercies of Cinderella</i>. Most of the wedding preparations are finished, but there is still one more matter that needs attending. Enjoy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> “Since I
promised Step Mother that you two would stand up at my wedding, and I always
keep my promises, I have to ensure that you will not be tempted to sit down.
This is the scopula of a giant trap-door spider from the island of Gilmorragh.
It is very tough, and does not wear out easily. But you have to be careful handling
it, because it is very irritating to the touch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Cinderella
walked around behind the unfortunate pair, and swished the scopula several
times to ensure that she had their full attention. If the fearful swish failed
to get their attention, then certainly the first whoosh of the initial slash
would do the trick. She handed the scourge to a gloved guard, and returned in
front of the blocks. She bent over and kissed each of her stepsisters on the
forehead. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> “Don’t cry, dearest sisters. I know
you’re happy for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Be sure to check out Ken Charles's free cp short story valentine “The Widow" on this blog. http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2014/01/ken-charless-valentine-widow.html</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Check out the rest of the fun at the Saturday Spankings Bloghop http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 15.272726058959961px;"></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;">Check out <b><i>The Mercies of Cinderella </i></b>by Ken Charles</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.272726058959961px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;">This is no Disney princess!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4QxomQuvNZiV6S1Zd0tTOKBjEKra_4Bx0oLLbn88XszU5Cn-GKWW1DEoYhfaGd3vV_C-8bbtYxB0v-bxhaJ6FlTG91mW0sT0oP4XAd9_dTAUvWEUw7PPVizE2DPYloW0ab4inZDRmuPH/s1600/coverjan2016Kindle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4QxomQuvNZiV6S1Zd0tTOKBjEKra_4Bx0oLLbn88XszU5Cn-GKWW1DEoYhfaGd3vV_C-8bbtYxB0v-bxhaJ6FlTG91mW0sT0oP4XAd9_dTAUvWEUw7PPVizE2DPYloW0ab4inZDRmuPH/s320/coverjan2016Kindle.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</a> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 15.2727px;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span><span style="line-height: 15.2727px;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 15.272726058959961px;"></span></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Payback is a bitch, and so at times is Cinderella. Cinderella is about to marry Prince Charming. Her evil Step Mother and Stepsisters have been convicted of high treason for their conspiracy to prevent the Prince from finding his true love, and are awaiting sentencing. Before the Prince passes sentence, Cinderella asks to take them into her custody for a year to determine whether she may speak on their behalves. The Prince grants her request, and remands the Step relations to one year under the tender mercies of Cinderella. </span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 15.272726058959961px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 15.2727px;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 15.272726058959961px;"></span></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">During this year, while Cinderella basks in the boundless love of the Prince and the joy of her first pregnancy, she applies the hard lessons she learned growing up to her Stepsisters, expressing her concern for their moral edification and well being with various paddles, straps, and even the scopula of a giant trap-door spider. Step Mother, who taught her that nothing in life is free, has to pay for her keep with sexual favors for all who provide her with any goods or services.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 18pt;"><br />I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span></div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-67860168967371934642014-01-16T14:57:00.000-08:002016-03-21T11:22:08.323-07:00SSB-Excerpt from Ken Charles's "Giving 110%" <span style="font-size: large;">Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. What do you do when you have a bit too much to drink and step way over the line at an office party and embarrass your up and coming boyfriend in front of his boss? You have to dream up creative ways to apologize, like in “Giving 110%” from Ken Charles’s <i>The Naughty Ladies of Cotton Glen</i>. Tonight’s snippet is part of Sally’s three part attempt to make things right with Perry, the love of her life, in the aftermath of just such an office party. Enjoy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> “Perry lifted Sally in his powerful grip and placed her over his knee. He slowly raised her bright red dress, and lowered her shocking bright red panties to her knees.” </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Sally paused in her story and slowly rolled up her own dress. She then peeled her bright red panties carefully down and over her bottom, once again revealing the delightful hillocks. “As Perry lifted the hard red plastic hairbrush, he wondered how long it would take before Sally’s bottom was fully accessorized.” That said, she gave herself a hard loud smack with her own red plastic hairbrush!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be sure to check out Ken Charles's free cp short story valentine “The Widow" on this blog. http://charliekenmore.blogspot.com/2014/01/ken-charless-valentine-widow.html</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Check out the Saturday Spankings Bloghop http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">By Ken Charles</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">For our friends in Europe:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Eight Chapters comprised of interrelated, stand alone, short stories about the Naughty Ladies of Cotton Glen.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Thursday Afternoon Doubles</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Terri, an aspiring actress with a temper, gets her career and life under control with a little help from her tennis partners: Laura, Jeri and Panda, served up in three hard sets of OTK in a locked locker room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lucia's Affair</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When she’s not subbing into the Thursday Afternoon Doubles at the Cotton Glen Golf and Tennis Club, Lucia Morales makes time for an affair - with her husband. The affair is hot, but an unmade bed lights an extra fire.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Terri And The Producer</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">After her Thursday afternoon attitude adjustment, Terri promises to make amends with her producer. But sometimes, apologies take more than mere words.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">There's Something Naughty About Mary</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Jeri makes more than enough money to take care of her young submissive live-in lover, Mary. But to teach her some responsibility, Mary has to pay for some the bills, including part of the rent. Mary is delinquent, and Jeri grounds her while she goes off to make the deal of her career. The deal closes earlier than expected, and Jeri returns home to find Mary missing. Not only did Mary go out after being grounded, she also borrowed Jeri’s car and had an accident (while uninsured). A sound hairbrush spanking from Jeri, and a caning regimen, in lieu of payments for the damages to the other car, from its owner teach Mary valuable lessons.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Giving 110%</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Laura’s younger sister, Sally, is madly in love with Perry. At the company’s annual party, after a couple of drinks too many, she makes a point of bragging to a stranger about him and how he always gives 110%, and complaining that the only thing holding him back is his stupid boss. Of course, the stranger is that boss.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">When Perry does not respond to her repeated calls to apologize, Sally tries a different tack. She appears at Perry’s house and performs three skits: a naughty young lady gossips in town and earns a date with Daddy’s belt; a naughty school girl is caught by her favorite teacher making fun of the school principal; and a naughty young lady in a bright red dress shoots her mouth off a company party, and earns a session with her fully accessorized red hairbrush. Perry gets to choose one scenario, and play it out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Pediatrician And The Birth Of The Nereid</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Lucia Morales’s pediatrician takes a well-deserved break in the Greek Isles. But some people just can’t keep work off of their minds.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Lucia's Presents</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It’s only a couple of days until Lucia’s tenth anniversary, and she has no clue what to get her husband. She goes shopping with Laura at the mall, but nothing catches her eye. On the way home, however, they find a sex shop, Deus Sex Machinas - Sex Toys of the Gods. At first, Lucia is too embarrassed to even set foot in the store. But Laura drags her in anyway, and proceeds to embarrass her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Several days later, Lucia buys her husband a collector’s print. When she goes to pick it up, it isn’t ready. So she goes for a cup of coffee, and finds herself back by the sex shop. Without Laura there to embarrass her, Lucia takes a second look in the shop. She ends up making a couple of purchases, including a leather paddle, a leather skirt and bra, and a crop. Her new toys keep her tenth anniversary night new and exciting.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Curtain Call</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Everyone gets one last prance across the stage, or over the knee. Panda gets a speeding ticket. Laura needs stress relief. Mary fails to make calls for Sally’s engagement party.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</a></span><br />
<br />Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-84984092818391794742014-01-08T08:03:00.000-08:002016-03-21T11:25:04.652-07:00SSB - Excerpt from Ken Charles's "The Mercies of Cinderella"<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome Saturday Bloghoppers. You’ve had plenty of time to break your New Year’s resolutions, so perhaps a good spanking is in order. Let’s start the year off with a selection from <b><i>The Mercies of Cinderella</i></b>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> The Prince raised his broad right hand, and brought it crashing down on Cinderella’s right cheek. She did not make a sound. Whack! Smack! Whack! The Prince forcefully demonstrated his displeasure. Smack! Smack! Whack! Her breath grew shorter as the heat built. Right, left , right, left, smack, crack, whack, smack! Cinderella whimpered. Whack! Whack! Whack! She shed her first unaccompanied tears since coming to the castle. The Prince, unimpressed, continued to give her fifty more before lifting her off his lap, setting her down on the bed, and quietly leaving her chambers. The click of the door latch stung far more than her throbbing bottom.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Here’s how to find the rest of the fun at Saturday Spankings Blogspot.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Check out <b><i>The Mercies of Cinderella </i></b>by Ken Charles</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This is no Disney princess!</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Payback is a bitch, and so at times is Cinderella. Cinderella is about to marry Prince Charming. Her evil Step Mother and Stepsisters have been convicted of high treason for their conspiracy to prevent the Prince from finding his true love, and are awaiting sentencing. Before the Prince passes sentence, Cinderella asks to take them into her custody for a year to determine whether she may speak on their behalves. The Prince grants her request, and remands the Step relations to one year under the tender mercies of Cinderella. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">During this year, while Cinderella basks in the boundless love of the Prince and the joy of her first pregnancy, she applies the hard lessons she learned growing up to her Stepsisters, expressing her concern for their moral edification and well being with various paddles, straps, and even the scopula of a giant trap-door spider. Step Mother, who taught her that nothing in life is free, has to pay for her keep with sexual favors for all who provide her with any goods or services.</span><br />
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-28170108146094958712013-12-27T08:35:00.000-08:002016-03-21T11:22:58.506-07:00SSB - Excerpt from Ken Charles's "Lucia's Presents"<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Good evening Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. Let's finish the year with a resounding crack from Chapter Seven of <i>The Naughty Ladies of Cotton Glen, </i>"Lucia's Presents". </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy New Year to all. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Charlie Kenmore/Ken Charles</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Now, <i>mija</i>,
you are going to receive six more. After each one, I expect you to thank me.
When you are ready, you may ask for the first."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: large;">She giggles, and
impertinently inquires, "What if I'm never ready?" Three quick smacks
bring tears, and a concise answer to her query. "Okay, I'm s-sorry, s-sir.
May I have the first?" She is answered by a swift crack across both
cheeks. "Owww! Thank you, sir! M-May I have the second?" Another
smack causes Lucia to kick her legs, which in turn draws the thong back and
forth across her pulsating mons. A third halting request is met with another
resounding smack, which again pushes her over the top. Her juices are smeared
across the insides of her thighs by the time the sixth and final blazing whack
signals the end of her punishment.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 17.774999618530273px;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;"></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;">I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span></span></span></div>
<div style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 17.774999618530273px;">******************************************************************</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">By Ken Charles</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #7c171d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU</a><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">For our friends in Europe:</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><a href="http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #7c171d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px;">http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU</a><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Eight Chapters comprised of interrelated, stand alone, short stories about the Naughty Ladies of Cotton Glen.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Thursday Afternoon Doubles</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Terri, an aspiring actress with a temper, gets her career and life under control with a little help from her tennis partners: Laura, Jeri and Panda, served up in three hard sets of OTK in a locked locker room.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Lucia's Affair</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">When she’s not subbing into the Thursday Afternoon Doubles at the Cotton Glen Golf and Tennis Club, Lucia Morales makes time for an affair - with her husband. The affair is hot, but an unmade bed lights an extra fire.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Terri And The Producer</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">After her Thursday afternoon attitude adjustment, Terri promises to make amends with her producer. But sometimes, apologies take more than mere words.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">There's Something Naughty About Mary</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Jeri makes more than enough money to take care of her young submissive live-in lover, Mary. But to teach her some responsibility, Mary has to pay for some the bills, including part of the rent. Mary is delinquent, and Jeri grounds her while she goes off to make the deal of her career. The deal closes earlier than expected, and Jeri returns home to find Mary missing. Not only did Mary go out after being grounded, she also borrowed Jeri’s car and had an accident (while uninsured). A sound hairbrush spanking from Jeri, and a caning regimen, in lieu of payments for the damages to the other car, from its owner teach Mary valuable lessons.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Giving 110%</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Laura’s younger sister, Sally, is madly in love with Perry. At the company’s annual party, after a couple of drinks too many, she makes a point of bragging to a stranger about him and how he always gives 110%, and complaining that the only thing holding him back is his stupid boss. Of course, the stranger is that boss.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">When Perry does not respond to her repeated calls to apologize, Sally tries a different tack. She appears at Perry’s house and performs three skits: a naughty young lady gossips in town and earns a date with Daddy’s belt; a naughty school girl is caught by her favorite teacher making fun of the school principal; and a naughty young lady in a bright red dress shoots her mouth off a company party, and earns a session with her fully accessorized red hairbrush. Perry gets to choose one scenario, and play it out.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">The Pediatrician And The Birth Of The Nereid</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Lucia Morales’s pediatrician takes a well-deserved break in the Greek Isles. But some people just can’t keep work off of their minds.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Lucia's Presents</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">It’s only a couple of days until Lucia’s tenth anniversary, and she has no clue what to get her husband. She goes shopping with Laura at the mall, but nothing catches her eye. On the way home, however, they find a sex shop, Deus Sex Machinas - Sex Toys of the Gods. At first, Lucia is too embarrassed to even set foot in the store. But Laura drags her in anyway, and proceeds to embarrass her.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Several days later, Lucia buys her husband a collector’s print. When she goes to pick it up, it isn’t ready. So she goes for a cup of coffee, and finds herself back by the sex shop. Without Laura there to embarrass her, Lucia takes a second look in the shop. She ends up making a couple of purchases, including a leather paddle, a leather skirt and bra, and a crop. Her new toys keep her tenth anniversary night new and exciting.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Curtain Call</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Everyone gets one last prance across the stage, or over the knee. Panda gets a speeding ticket. Laura needs stress relief. Mary fails to make calls for Sally’s engagement party.</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">***************************************************</span><br style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;" /><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-indent: 0px;">Check out the Saturday Spankings Bloghop </span><a href="http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #7c171d; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 14.545454025268555px; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px;">http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</a><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; line-height: 23.636363983154297px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This is no Disney princess!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="hhttp://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK"><span style="color: #7c171d; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 14.5455px; text-decoration: none;">h</span><span style="color: #7c171d; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 14.5455px;">http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</span></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Payback is a bitch, and so at times is Cinderella. Cinderella is about to marry Prince Charming. Her evil Step Mother and Stepsisters have been convicted of high treason for their conspiracy to prevent the Prince from finding his true love, and are awaiting sentencing. Before the Prince passes sentence, Cinderella asks to take them into her custody for a year to determine whether she may speak on their behalves. The Prince grants her request, and remands the Step relations to one year under the tender mercies of Cinderella.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">During this year, while Cinderella basks in the boundless love of the Prince and the joy of her first pregnancy, she applies the hard lessons she learned growing up to her Stepsisters, expressing her concern for their moral edification and well being with various paddles, straps, and even the scopula of a giant trap-door spider. Step Mother, who taught her that nothing in life is free, has to pay for her keep with sexual favors for all who provide her with any goods or services.</span></div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4484234593973412069.post-27204473889321158312013-12-17T10:21:00.000-08:002016-02-04T12:48:31.498-08:00SSB--Billy & Alyeska from STWC: Billy's Color Palette by Ken Charles<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Welcome SSBloghoppers to the holiday edition bonus excerpt. Tonight's offering is from the phone sex scene between Alyeska and Billy from Ken Charles's forthcoming <i>Sex Tales From West County: Billy's Color Palette. </i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><i> </i></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;">Glad tidings to all, and enjoy.</span><i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large; line-height: 200%;"> </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;"><i><b>~*~</b> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “During our time together, you will be
spanked. The first spanking initially will be by hand, then finished with a
leather backed brush. Once I have undressed you down to nothing but your
panties, I will put you over my knee. You will receive fifty swats with my
hand. Then your panties will be lowered. You will receive fifty more swats with
my hand. Your panties will be removed. You will receive six swats with the
leather backed brush.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Alyeska asked
softly, “Do you spank hard?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Sometimes,”
Billy answered. “It depends on the reason and purpose of the spanking. This first
spanking serves several important purposes. First, it will help you appreciate
that during our time together, you belong entirely to me. Second, the heat and
sting will serve as a nice counterpoint to the tingles and tickles that you
will otherwise experience as we proceed. Third, it will provide an important
measure for you to gauge how far and how long you wish to proceed with our time
together. Because….” He paused both for effect and to collect his thoughts as
to just why they needed to establish some sort of base line. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Why?
Hello? Billy, are you still there?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I’m here.
I was just simplifying the reason. During our time together, you will be
subject to a regimen of ‘Pay Per Cum’. Simply put, there is a cumulative cost
to be paid each time you climax. The cost is paid over the knee at a rate of
twelve hand smacks and two leather backed brush smacks per climax. So the first
time you cum, you will go over my knee for twelve swats by hand and two cracks
with the leather backed brush; the second time—twenty-four swats by hand and
four cracks with the leather backed brush; the third time – thirty-six swats by
hand and six cracks with the leather backed brush, etc. The leather backed
brush will also be used as a reminder for any repeated failures to follow
instructions as follows: First warning – no penalty; Second warning – two
swats; Third warning – three swats; Additional warnings – four swats. Do you
still wish to proceed?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Yes,
please,” she answered softly.</span><span style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Check out the rest of the naughty fun at the Saturday Spankings Bloghop. </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; line-height: 200%;">No spanking, but check out Charlie Kenmore's Holiday Treat "Once in a Blue Moon" at the Seven Realms Earthside Communications Center (to whit, an earlier blog post here).</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;">An Open Apology for “Capcha”: </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.818181991577148px; line-height: 14.545454025268555px;"></span><span style="background-color: #c2e5c1; color: #121670; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 17.774999618530273px;">I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK</span></span><br />
<br />
Check out The Mercies of
Cinderella by Ken Charles<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is no Disney
princess!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsZgxn_CiqDcopeS9fLvp3RtzxOI7-Po-o-dfYoI6TLqZEci6MLMRhQMdLZ2n3w4yADWoSiAncUESCjMFFfZ9gpDTXajAWVK5gNS4oEUq9co002yH5cCLFMwxx89qgB_jyOz635ikUoCCl/s1600/mercies500x755_72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsZgxn_CiqDcopeS9fLvp3RtzxOI7-Po-o-dfYoI6TLqZEci6MLMRhQMdLZ2n3w4yADWoSiAncUESCjMFFfZ9gpDTXajAWVK5gNS4oEUq9co002yH5cCLFMwxx89qgB_jyOz635ikUoCCl/s320/mercies500x755_72.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
<span style="line-height: 32px;"><u><br /></u></span>
<span style="line-height: 32px;"><u>http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B1W4YWK</u></span><br />
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Payback is a bitch, and
so at times is Cinderella. Cinderella is about to marry Prince Charming. Her
evil Step Mother and Stepsisters have been convicted of high treason for their
conspiracy to prevent the Prince from finding his true love, and are awaiting
sentencing. Before the Prince passes sentence, Cinderella asks to take them
into her custody for a year to determine whether she may speak on their
behalves. The Prince grants her request, and remands the Step relations to one
year under the tender mercies of Cinderella. <o:p></o:p></div>
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During this year, while
Cinderella basks in the boundless love of the Prince and the joy of her first
pregnancy, she applies the hard lessons she learned growing up to her
Stepsisters, expressing her concern for their moral edification and well being
with various paddles, straps, and even the scopula of a giant trap-door spider.
Step Mother, who taught her that nothing in life is free, has to pay for her
keep with sexual favors for all who provide her with any goods or services.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Charlie Kenmorehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12208770286506036345noreply@blogger.com3