Good Boy Spanking Novels & Stories

Five years and a divorce paper in my hand before I realized that I invested my time, effort and devotion to the wrong man. Trapped in a corner with nothing left to my name, I was willing to bargain with my ex-husband for my daughter’s sake. But then, a savior, my husband’s new boss came to rescue me from the financial quagmire I was in. He helped me recover what I lost: my dignity, pride and most importantly, he gave me hope. I thought he was the perfect man. But the illusion shattered when his motives came to bite me in the face. He was in this for revenge, and his target was me.

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

After our SATs, my childhood sweetheart coaxed me into giving him my virginity. In just one night, he went through half a box of protection. I thought it was physical attraction and that he was madly in love with me. Until one day, by accident, I saw the group chat between him and his friends. [Congratulations to my boy for scoring his first win.] [Rue can barely walk. Weren’t you a bit too rough?] [Too rough? She’s tough. She can take it. I’m just getting some practice in, so I’ll know how to treat the school’s prettiest girl right in the future. If I mess her up, I’d actually feel bad.] So all those years of being childhood sweethearts were nothing but a joke. I changed my university application. From that moment on, he went south, and I went north. Our paths never crossed again.

Hannah Stone, a seventeen years old highschool student whose mother past away and had to move to New York City with her dad. What she didn't know is that her handsome, careless neighbour is her new school bad boy. What happens when she came face to face with him. Noah Black is an eighteen years old Australian. He is also known as Halloway highschool bad boy based in America. His father is a business tycoon and one of the richest man in the country, he is a per-time boxer. What happens when he finally meet his new neighbour and sees her his worst enemy. I kept on blubbering on how coincidence it is till he slammed me against a locker. My chest started to heave. What did I say? "Look bîtch, stay away from me or my girlfriend. You hurt her feelings and I hate you for that. If I ever find out you hurt her again, I'll make your life a living hell" he spilled out with venomous, Australia accent. He turned around and walk towards the exit. Why did he say that to me? She started it. He's being mean. He's being a bully. Am I suppose to tell someone? Should I tell my dad.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

"I'm going to be the best architect ever and make my dad real proud of me." Beautiful, smart, ambitious, as well as determined Nadia Campbell had the zeal of being the best at what she dreamt of becoming. She had her life well planned out thus, nothing prepared her for the sudden tough phase of her life — being a young mother and marrying the father of her child, a child she never hoped for this early in her life. Not when she was so close to her goal. " He's a player. I shouldn't get entangled but why does my heart say otherwise?" "There's no way something as feeble as love can ever find a way of getting to me." Playboy Derek Ashford's popular mantra, "NO LOVE, NO PAIN", was his everyday principle of living. Flirt with girls, temporary tango in the sheets, take a walk and never look back on the tears — total show on their parts to bring the toughest man to his knees. It all seemed easy until faced with the toughest price he had to pay for his inheritance — marry the mother of his mistake baby. " I play girls, I dont date them. When and if I do, no marriage or commitment is made clear from the onset so why does my heart argue with my head on this when it comes to her?"

Falling in love with a playboy has never been in Crystal's plans. That is one thing she will not do no matter what. But it becomes hard to stand by her decision when he enters the picture. can she ignore the obvious attraction she feels for him?