Spell for Spanking: A Lesbian Spanking Romance

By Alice Dark

When Isabel inadvertently gives a fiery redhead a love potion, it arouses dark passions in Tasha, an elf half-breed, and leads to a night of lust, spanking and love. But when the potion wears off, the women are faced with the results of their night of passion. WARNING: Contains mature adult themes, BDSM, spanking, anal play and explicit sex. STRICTLY for adults ONLY. All sexual acts depicted are consensual and between adults aged 21 years and over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evil Ink
• Release date: Aug 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301002528

Alice Dark

I am Alice Dark, and I write erotica: BDSM, Femdom, sci-fi, horror, vampires – anything supernatural. I prefer spanking stories, though I’ll write anything that makes my girlfriend hot. She loves to read my stories, because I try to mix our own lives into each and everything that I write. Sometimes the stories are about our pasts. Sophia and I are both Catholic, and we were raised in strict families. The schools were even stricter. I was caned, and Sophia was paddled. Both of us have been hand-spanked in our homes as youths. You’d think we’d be done with it. But we’re not. Somewhere along the line, Sophia and I began to enjoy the feeling of a hand, paddle or other spanking instrument across our ass. While we both love to have our cheeks blushed, I tend to be the aggressor more often than not. The take-away, my pets, is that for us, it’s who we are.

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Spell for Spanking

A Lesbian Spanking Romance

by

Alice Dark

Smashwords Edition

Published by

Alice Dark on Smashwords

Spell for Spanking: A Lesbian Spanking Romance by Alice Dark

Copyright (c) 2013 by Alice Dark

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter 1

Isabel’s View

Isabel Perizada worried over the contents of her iron cauldron with a long wooden ladle. The color didn’t seem right, and the rising steam had a bitter aroma that seemed to snap at her senses. Isabel stirred the liquid slowly, testing the thickness of the contents with the wooden implement, chosen specifically for its non-reactive qualities. She eyed the surface of the bubbling froth critically, looking for errant hairs, or odd herbs that might fallen into the concoction. Love potions were not easy to brew. Not by a long shot. Especially a love potion designed to heighten the dark desires of spanking, fetishes and kink. If a potion like that was easily made, every hedge-hopping witch between Aragorn and Wandinja would have a shingle on her shopfront proclaiming promises of stinging ecstasy fulfilled. As it was, there were plenty of tricksters who claimed to have the knowledge needed to bring a passionate brew to smoky perfection. Most of the so-called witches were scammers. The worst were liars and cutthroats, out to bamboozle a poor girl out of her pennies, and perhaps her panties. Unscrupulous scamps often offered a fraudulent potion for free, so long as they could spend a night beneath a woman’s skirts, exploring her nether regions. Isabel hated that kind of nasty trickery. As far as she was concerned, there was no difference between soul-staining, black magic and human hucksters who faked white magic for dark deeds.

Swirling the contents slowly, Isabel slipped in two basil leaves and a handful of rose petals. The psychoactive properties of herbs and plants were well known to white witches in Isabel’s family. Some of the ingredients were added for nothing more than the psychological aspect: if the person taking the potion thought it would produce passion, the power of suggestion took care of the rest. But other other parts of the spell were pure magic - increasing blood flow to the genitals and brain, they fogged thought and brought on lust and a desire for some of the more painful aspects of love. True craft demanded that each ingredient be added at a particular time of day, or month. The addition of some ingredients depended on Isabel’s menstrual cycle and the waxing moon.

Making a true love potion - one that would arouse any man or woman to a night of extreme passion - was an exhaustive task that took a full month to complete. But Isabel didn’t mind. She was a good witch, in more ways than one.

Gold powder, Isabel muttered to herself. A dash of gold powder and the Essence of a Kiss, and this potion will be finished.

The powder was not an issue. Isabel turned to the myriad of shelves at the back of her small shop. Running her fingers down the jars one at a time, she mumbled to herself: "ashes of my enemy; dragon scales; essence of ahuacate. Isabel’s fingers paused on the stone jar filled with the desiccated flesh of avocados for a moment and she smiled. Testicles, she said, translating the word and grinning. The Aztecs were really onto something when they named that fruit." Finally, she found the jar with the gold powder. Carefully, Isabel added several grains to the cauldron and slowly stirred the concoction. She would need her brother for the final ingredient.

As if on cue, the bell above the front door tinkled. Someone entered her shop, and was even now bellowing her name. Hey, Isa! It was her brother, Damian. Sighing, Isabel turned the heat to low on her cauldron and took off her apron. She marveled at the witches of old, who had to stand by their pots for days on end, while stoking the fire below the iron container. It couldn’t have been an easy existence, and it was certainly much harder to control the amount of flame given to a particular potion over an open fire. Nowadays, gas stoves were de rigueur for any modern witch.

I’m in the back, Damian. Isabel smiled and waited for couple of seconds, till she was sure she heard her brother’s heavy tread on the wooden floor. Did you close the front door?

Damn!

Giggling, Isabel cleaned up her workspace, carefully brushing any stray herbs from the counter into her palm. She didn’t throw them away. Since they were associated with spellcasting, the specks were too powerful to simply discard in the trash. Instead, Isabel kept them in a large, stone cask in the corner of her workroom. One day she would dispose of them properly. Or perhaps she would use the chaotic ingredients to discover a