Find out who’s been sleeping in their beds… #WIPItUp #FREE #KU

Hello everyone, it’s the middle of the week, and I’m pleased to let you know that Goldie’s Surrender is now available on Kindle Unlimited! If you’re subscribed, then grab your FREE copy here!
In other exciting news, Goldie has just become a top 100 selling book in the Amazon Fantasy category. I’m so thrilled about this, and want to thank each and everyone of you who has supported this book.

To celebrate, I’m posting Goldie’s very first spanking as my #WIPItUp post this week… Brace yourself, it’s about to begin!
***
“Very well,” I say with a nod, and then turn my attention to the wriggling woman at my lap. “Let us say fifteen strikes then, Goldie, and see how we fare?”
She snorts at me, twisting her face to look back at me from near the floor. “I do not consent to this!” she shrieks, her voice full of the anger and fear that obviously still reside in her.
“Your consent is not required,” I say, shifting my left arm to her back. I rest it there gently, wanting only to hold in her place, and not to harm her, and yet still she wiggles across me in a furious frenzy of unspent energy. I shake my head, amazed at her endless rebellion, but my right palm rises even as the thought concludes.
I send it crashing down against her backside, watching with admiration as the impact ripples across her exposed cheeks. To her credit, she never makes a sound, acknowledging neither the noise nor the feeling of the strike.
“One,” I say, counting the impact for her.
“I know it’s the first,” she hisses from under me. “I can count, you know!”
I smile, catching Ethan’s eye as I move to spank her again. He smirks back at me, and I add a little more impetus this time. As I remove my hand, I see the faint pink outline of my palm across her tanned skin. This time the strike draws a breath from Goldie, but still nothing further. I am surprised at her stoicism, having taken her for a fragile little thing before. I mark the number of the strike, before following up with a further three spanks, alternating between her soft, ripe cheeks.
“Three, four, and five, Goldie,” I continue, watching the red hue of her behind.
“You brute!” she calls out from the floor to my left. “How dare you treat me this way!”
I sigh, rolling my eyes and spanking her hard again. I should have known better than to think she would be compliant in her own punishment. Clearly, Goldie Lacie is a woman who has needed a spanking like this for a long time.
“You are being punished for coming into our cottage, Goldie,” I tell her as I land another impact against her. This time a short gasp leaves her lips, and I admit that I find the sound pleasing. “You did so without permission, and you then proceeded to eat, break, and sleep on what does not belong to you.”
The sound of the new strike fills my bedroom, and for the first time I hear what sounds like a small sob from her throat. “Furthermore,” I continue, pressing the point now there finally seems to be some contrition from Goldie. “When you were found and faced with your offenses, you showed no remorse whatsoever!” I spank her an eighth time, filled with fervor as I see her body responding to her penance.
“Ouch!” The sound of her voice serves only to fuel my desire. “You’re hurting me,” she cries.
“Come now, Goldie,” I say, commanding her body to still without so much as a single instruction to do so. “I am merely giving you what you deserve, and everyone here knows it to be true.”
I spank her earnestly then, delivering a further seven strikes—one after the other—loving the look of her punished little behind as it moves beneath my palm.
“That is fifteen,” I pronounce, looking to my brothers for clarification.
“Then you are done?” she asks, once more contorting her young body to look at me over her shoulder. “You said fifteen?”
I smile, gazing down at her as I reply. “I said fifteen if you behaved yourself,” I remind her.
Her face shifts, furrowing her flawless brow. “But, you can’t,” she continues. “I have behaved!”
Now it is my time to snort. “This behavior, Miss Lacie,” I reply, “has led you to a further five strikes.”
“Five?” she protests almost at once, straining to be free of my lap.
My left arm holds her in place with ease. “Yes, five,” I insist, “and you should be grateful that I do not add more for the trouble you have caused us.”