Playful Thoughts

By Anya Howard

In Playful Thoughts BDSM/fantasy author Anya Howard gives her readers two hot erotic tales plus two humor pieces.

The Chamberlain's Discipline: The distinguished new chamberlain kindles a fire in Fenna’s heart; but only after he gives her an old-fashioned spanking do the flames truly ignite.

Wildwood Maid: The pretty wildwood maid slaked Dustin’s desires. But will one foolish human blunder leave him thirsting for the rest of his life?

Along with these sensual shorts Ms. Howard shares with readers two posts that take humorous looks at the online reviewer community and Christmas-related erotica.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swanbeauty Books
• Release date: Dec 26, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458045614

Anya Howard

Anya Howard is the pen name of a Tennessee born and bred author, columnist and screenwriter. Since childhood she has had an avid interest in the paranormal, and her stories and novels are often inspired by European folk tales and legends. Anya’s writing incorporates fantasy elements, and she describes her Romance work as “Erotic oriented, Alpha-male friendly and written with a positive emphasis on sensual M/F bondage & discipline fantasy.”   Anya makes her home in a small town in the Smokey Mountains region with her always-encouraging husband and their children. Visit her on the web at anyahoward.com.

Book preview

Playful Thoughts ©2010 Anya Howard

Two original stories and two humor posts, copyright 2010 by Anya Howard

A SMASHWORDS Edition

This e-book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and mature situations that some readers may find objectionable. While reference may be made to actual events, existing locations and living persons this product is purely a product of the author’s imagination and bears no reflection on any real establishment, event or person either alive or dead. Please enjoy as the author intended. The distribution, resale and sharing of this product is prohibited without the express written consent of the author.

The author wishes to thank the following individuals for their friendship and support: Jade Blackmore, Kate Douglas, Anitra Mcleod, Tracey Parman-Anderson and Devyn Quinn. Special gratitude goes out to friend and author Kate Pearce, who gave me the idea, Shaidah Syed Zin for her encouragement and laughs, and Mama Claudia Mcray who has always been here for me. I love you ladies.

For Robert, who built the fortress of love

Table of Contents

The Chamberlain’s Discipline (short story)

The Wildwood Maid (short story)

Post #1 What if these modern writers put their spin on the holiday classics?

Post #2 What would the Reviewers do if they couldn’t (Review)?

The Chamberlain’s Discipline

©2010 by Anya Howard

Lughmor Manor

In County Westmeath, Ireland 1904

I was born in the town of Borris-Garry in County Westmeath and had lived there all my life, when as burgeoning girl of fourteen my beloved parents died. The cause was a fire that broke out in the cellar of the tavern where they worked, a terrible inferno that took the entire place and over twelve lives. After their burial I went to live in the town orphanage and put to work in a textile factory. I worked there for years, until my knack with handling the new-fangled sewing machines caught the attention of Mrs. Fitzsimmons, who owned a tailor shop on Flayerty Street. She wanted me to work for her and offered three shillings a week as well as a bed in the doss house she also managed. I was eighteen years old at that time, and more than ready to leave the orphanage I accepted eagerly. The hours were long, from seven in the morning until nine o’clock at night, but I was grateful to have a roof over my head, clothes on my back and enough food that I neither went hungry nor had to beg for charity. I sometimes wondered how life would have faired had my parents lived, yet I had no delusions of escaping the lot providence had issued.

This was until a summer morning of my twenty-fourth year when I met a well-dressed but befuddled looking old woman outside the shop.

I had just left the doss house and was headed for work when I noticed her standing near the front door. She was small with quite a stooped back and garbed all in brown, from shawl to the old-fashioned dress and shoes she wore. It appeared the old woman was searching the walk for something, and no one passing by on the street or going in and out of the shop seemed to notice her or at least cared enough to offer her help. This seemed very uncharitable, so upon reaching her I asked if I could be of assistance.

The poor creature answered in a tearful voice, My purse! A pair of wicked young dogs tore it from my hands and made fun with it, and I do not know where they dropped it!

I scanned the area and found it lying in a tuft of grass behind a nearby lamp post. As I dusted the fabric I saw it was an expensive looking silk carpet bag, and thought it a shame the dogs had left teeth marks in the lovely motif. But the old woman was overwhelmed with joy to have it returned. She thanked me profusely and began to cry again when Mrs. Fitzsimmons came out of the shop and cast me an awful look. She shouted that I was late and keeping her for a fitting with an important client. Without a look at the old woman Mrs. Fitzsimmons went on in her usual haranguing bellow how I was about to lose my job and be out on the street if I didn’t get inside immediately.

The old woman suddenly walked up to Mrs. Fitzsimmons and announced that she was Lady O’Sullivan, come to settle the bill on her niece’s gown. Opening the silk carpet bag, she took out a velvet coin purse and paid Mrs. Fitzsimmons on the spot. As my employer counted the gold