What on earth are you readin’? I had to shout 3 times to get your attention! For a minute there, I thought you had gone stone deaf on me…And your face is right flushed and you’ve got a funny look in your eyes like I haven’t seen for years.
Well, Myrtle, I was in the fancy new bookstore that woman from up North opened up downtown lookin’ for a Farmer’s Almanac and they were featuring a book by some local writer for 30% off. It had a nice scene with a lighthouse on the cover so I figured I should support the local talent and you know how much I love a bargain so I bought a copy.
A local writer you say…who is it, Arlen…anyone we know?
Well, Myrtle, that’s the darndest thing…seems like this writer has chosen to use a pen name…as if they are ashamed of what they wrote.
So what’s this writer’s pen name? Arlen, looks like you’ve read right many pages-should they be ashamed?
The name is Skarlet Ledder…can’t say as she should be ashamed, but I surely understand why she wouldn’t want her real name known, Myrtle. I’m not sure just how the locals would take to her once they found out what she was up to.
Skarlet Ledder??? Oh Lordie, Arlen…you’ve gone and bought one of those ladies romance novels…what did you think you bought…a book about lighthouses?
Well, Myrtle, I did kinda think what with the picture of the lighthouse on the front that it would be…I did think it was awful funny that there was a picture of a lady and a man laying in the grass in front of the lighthouse though.
Say Arlen, why don’t you read me some of it? I’d like to know what’s put that silly look on your face.
Aw Myrtle…don’t know as if I could read this stuff out loud to you…it’s embarrassing.
Good grief, Arlen…it ain’t as if we haven’t been married for years and years-I don’t reckon you’re gonna read me anything I don’t know about.
I don’t know, Myrtle…this is some pretty racy stuff…there’s stuff in here I’m pretty sure we never thought of…at least I never imagined anything like it.
Come on, Arlen, read me just a bit.
Well, alright then, but remember…you asked for it. Here goes:
“You’ve disobeyed me for the last time, wench!” said Royce as he bent her over his knee. He wrapped the leather strap securely about his wrist and began giving Laura a thorough thrashing…but was surprised to find that rather than screaming and crying, Laura was moaning and sighing and begging for more. He released her only to find her at his knees unbuttoning his trousers and fondling his member. He was powerless to stop her as she took him fully into her warm, wet mouth and began gently massaging him with her tongue. When she had succeeded hardening his member to a useful firmness she released him and begged him to enter her from behind. He obliged and was astounded to hear her beg for more lashes from the strap. Royce had never known a woman to take so much pleasure from pain and was confused yet so aroused that he gave no second thought to complying with her request.”
So there, Myrtle, you asked for it…what do you think?
Arlen, I’d have to say that Skarlet Ledder writes one helluva bodice ripper!
“Bodice Ripper”! What in tarnation is a bodice ripper, Myrtle?
That’s what those trashy romance novels are called, Arlen…on account of there’s usually some scene in them where the heroine’s bodice gets ripped off. I’d have to say that this one you read me might have to be called a “trouser ripper” from the sound of it.
Myrtle, do you think there are really women out there who like to be spanked?
Hmmm…Arlen…what do you say we find out? Do you still have that hand tooled leather belt your brother brought you back from Arizona?………to be continued.