Otherworldly Discipline: A Witch's Lesson Read online

  Otherworldly Discipline:

  A Witch’s Lesson

  By

  Korey Mae Johnson

  ©2012 by Blushing Books® and Korey Mae Johnson

  Copyright © 2012 by Blushing Books® and Korey Mae Johnson

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books® is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Johnson, Korey Mae

  Otherworldly Discipline

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-668-0

  Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us!

  There are plenty more stories such as the one you’ve purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our might selection!

  http://www.blushingbooks.com

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Chapter One

  “If you come back with me to my place, I can promise that you can have me any way you’d like…” Red silky lips purred the words into Moriarty’s ear enough to give him an instant erection.

  He tried not to seem too excited in fear of giving the strange woman the upper hand, and smiled suavely at her as he sipped his martini. “My dear,” he began in his velvety voice. “You don’t have to be the one to promise me anything. You will beg me to take you any way I like IF I decide to follow you home.”

  The woman pouted, but pressed her silky thighs together and leaned in towards him to show him more of her breasts to tease him. He, in response, left her swooning by remaining as stand-offish as a Regency Era Lord. The tactic never failed.

  Earthside was… Insane. Especially nowadays with women dressed in the most scandalous lingerie-like outfits as they waited outside of prestigious clubs hoping to get in. The music was overly loud and chaotic and the atmosphere of the world was getting dark and industrial like something out of a gothic novel. One could walk anywhere at any hour of night and still be in light shining down from the florescent lamps above.

  Moriarty loved it. He would never really admit as much, but his day off was most always spent on Earthside where he would purr inwardly as women bought him drinks and would afterward invite him to their homes. No commitment needed; the girls were very free with themselves and expected him to be gone when they awoke, and more importantly; they were sexually liberated. They wanted to explore their bodies, explore his body… Watch him exploring theirs…

  There was no fear anymore. Everyone was on birth control, and if they weren’t, condoms were dispensed openly in the public bathroom. This had never been a fear for him, specifically since he was an immortal. Being such, he could heal quite speedily to any illness and he could not impregnate a mortal. But now he could experience this type of freedom with others.

  It was certainly something his employer, Ashcroft Medwin, would never understand—the bad-tempered and very visibly scarred wizard might has well have been a eunuch for as often as he’d had sex in the last century.

  “Oh,” the woman said, listening to the music of the band that had just come on. “I love them.”

  Moriarty listened and knew that if any music could drag him out of ‘the mood’ it was that rubbish. Grungy hiphop—disgusting. But luckily it was very, very difficult to be broken out of the mood once he was in it. He played with the hem of the woman’s short skirt before pushing it up her thigh.

  She let out a small moan and parted her legs for his diligent fingers to roam upwards up the smooth skin. This woman did not care at all that they were in a bar in the middle of a crowded room filled with noise and heat. His every touch made her purr, every rub made her writhe.

  Bingo. No panties. Thank heavens for Earthside.

  “And let’s give a hand to our virtuoso, mates…” the guitarist said from the stage, gesturing behind him. Moriarty did his best to ignore the man, and hoped that his little toy was also ignoring the performer, as well. “Kresley Kylemore.”

  That was the fakest name he’d heard in awhile. He glanced up as a hip-hop violin solo started, already annoyed at the distraction.

  Charlotte Grimm.

  “Don’t stop touching me,” the woman begged, grabbing onto his trousers desperately with her manicured hands.

  Moriarty had stopped touching her. He couldn’t help it; he wasn’t easily shocked, but his eyes were taken by the familiarity of the character on the violin. It was that damned witch that had turned his employer’s world upside down when she’d dropped off the face of the Earth well over a month ago.

  He didn’t recognize the girl right off the bat, either. Charlotte had changed her hair color from a muddy clay color into a golden blonde. Her dress was even more ridiculous than usual too, though probably because all of her clothing had been sent to Ashcroft’s tower when she had stopped coming by. Ashcroft had hoped that she would come back to him to regain possession of her things, but the ruse hadn’t worked… Though, Moriarty had promptly burned the majority of her wardrobe when he saw it, disgusted by its hideousness.

  Right now, Charlotte was wearing a blouse held together by goddamn paperclips.

  “Touch me,” his woman purred in his ear.

  He obliged, although he was now deep in thought.

  Should he pretend he didn’t see Charlotte and enjoy the rest of his day off? Maybe have this woman and possibly a couple more before returning to the tower? Or should he capture the little brat and drag her home by her ear?

  His fingers brushed sensually into the woman’s upper, inner thighs. That’s right—no panties. Alright—option one, it was. Ignore Charlotte. She was still in England, at least; not too far from home. Ashcroft would soon hire someone else to track her down, anyway.

  Moriarty was now finger-deep in the chit with a tongue in his ear, and he was loving it. He was anxious for it to continue. “My flat’s just down the street,” the woman simpered. She flashed her sexy smile at him.

  “How utterly convenient,” he was just about to say when his tie was grabbed and he was being let out of the bar.

  Ah, dominant women. Earthside was full of them—women with confidence, women with control.

  He had the unfortunate countenance that would attract a dominant woman from across the room. Which was very fine for many other men, but Moriarty had the veneer that made women think that he wasn’t as masculine as he was. He wished like hell he could be the dominant one in bed. Every now and then he yearned to pin a woman down and take her from behind. Maybe after spanking her bottom bright pink…

  Didn’t matter. Within a couple of hours he was spent with the woman anyway, and came stumbling out of the woman’s flat as she slept. He walked into the cold night air of Cambridge and back towards the club.

  He took a shortcut back through an alley, and heard voices in the fire escape above him. “You played great tonight.”

  “Thanks,” replied a familiar voice. Moriarty’s eyes rolled upwards. “So did you.”

  “I know,” the male voice chuckled. “Hey… Do you want to get a cup of coffee? Or maybe just go back to my place?” the man’s voice asked.

  “Um… No thank
s. I’m actually gonna turn in soon.” Charlotte blew smoke out of her mouth, twirling a cigarette around in her fingers.

  “You’re sleeping in the dressing room again?” he asked. “I thought you’d found a place!”

  “Um, yeah, but I packed my suitcase this morning. I woke up with a rat on me.”

  “A rat on you?”

  “A. Rat. On. Me,” Charlotte drawled slowly. “It was like this—me, blanket, rat. And it just turned its head to look at me, like, ‘What?’ Like, I was in his bed or something.” She shook her head. “I can just see the newspaper headline now: ‘American goes to England. Dies of Plague.’”

  The man’s voice laughed. “Well, sleep at my place, then. No rats. I promise.”

  Moriarty sneered, understanding that the man was just trying to lure Charlotte into coming home with him to seduce her. Except a big one. You, he thought.

  Maybe it was a protective notion, but he had gotten to know Charlotte very well over the last summer. Not that she was very likable; she was stubborn, racy, and extremely naïve. But Ashcroft was completely infatuated with the girl. The wizard would never admit to as much, wishing himself to be too good of a man to fall for a girl who was supposed to be his ward. But facts were facts: Moriarty had been Ashcroft’s loyal servant for seven hundred years, and Moriarty had never seen Ashcroft been so addled by a woman before.

  Suffice to say that now Moriarty was thinking again about just dragging her on back to the Otherworld. After all, she was homeless and she wasn’t going to say ‘no’ to this guy forever. Eventually she was going to go home with him and give up her virginity for a warm bed, a warm meal, and a bar of soap.

  Which would make her one of the most pitiful witches in history.

  “No thanks. I can manage,” Charlotte replied simply.

  The man, who Moriarty recognized as the lead guitarist, shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself,” he muttered hauling his guitar over his shoulder and stepping down the dirty metal stairway. The guitarist walked right past Moriarty, who was pretending to search for a cigarette in his pocket. “Frigid bitch.”

  Moriarty watched the man turn the corner, leaving Charlotte and himself alone in the alley, and Charlotte still seemed completely unaware of Moriarty’s presence. He saw her flick down her cigarette butt and turn like she was going inside. That’s when he made his move.

  He was a Huxian—he spent the first century of his eight-hundred year existence as a fox. He was quick, agile, and sneaking up on her right before she was able to open the door to walk back into the club’s dressing room was uncommonly easy for him.

  “Good evening, Lady Charlotte,” he said in her ear after he reached in front of her, clamping his hand over her mouth and a firm arm across her body. He dragged her back down the escape this way. He heard her muffled, angry cries underneath his hand. She was trying her best to bite him, but he didn’t let her.

  He only let her feet touch the ground when they had gotten off the fire escape, where he took a tight grip on her upper arm. “Moriarty, goddamn it, let me go!”

  “No,” Moriarty sneered. “Master has revoked your Earthside privileges, my dear. You’ve worried him.”

  “Moriarty, let me go or else I’ll scream! This isn’t funny! Let go of me!” She tried to kick at him and wrench away, but he just turned and hauled her over his shoulder with as much effort as he would use swatting away a mosquito. “I don’t wanna go back to Ashcroft! I don’t wanna learn magic anymore!” she whined like a bratty four-year-old who was being hauled off to preschool.

  “You’ve spent far too much time on Earthside, my girl, if you think anybody gives two damns about what you do or do not want to do anymore. Besides, it’s better that I found you. Ashcroft was preparing to send trackers after you. They’re not so gentle.”

  “This isn’t comfortable, Moriarty! Stop—Owe!” he dumped her into the back seat of his car. She rubbed her head where she’d bumped against the far window. As she clumsily tried to adjust herself, he whipped off his belt, then leaned in to bind her hands with it.

  Then she started screaming, although nobody was around to hear her. Once she was properly unable to escape from the backseat, he walked towards the driver’s side like a man strolling through the park.

  She sat up and kicked at his seat as he drove. He put up with it for about sixty seconds. “Do you want me to come back there and bind your feet, too? Because I’m doing that after I give you a good hiding. And that’s before I hand you off to Master Ashcroft. You’ve ruined my evening. I should be onto my second woman by now.” He turned his eyes back to the road.

  “Well, let me apologize,” she seethed. Moriarty knew that she hated to be threatened with spankings—especially since she’d taken off as soon as his master had tried to threaten her that way. “I’m sorry to spoil your weekly fuck-fest.”

  “Apology not accepted,” he growled. “I don’t know what you were thinking by running away. We’ve given you everything, all the comforts you could ask for, and you just take off without a note?”

  “Oh, I left a note,” she reminded.

  “I don’t know if writing ‘Fuck off, love Charlotte’ on the refrigerator with chocolate sauce constitutes as a note,” Moriarty argued. “Bad form is what it was. Your family is humiliated and worried, and Ashcroft is worried, angry, and insulted…”

  “I don’t care what Ashcroft thinks; he’s a bully. And I don’t care what my family thinks, because they’re not actually my family.”

  “They love you like a daughter, and they raised you from infancy, you spoiled brat,” Moriarty snapped, glancing back with judgmental eyes. “I know several people that had it a lot worse off. They spoiled you recklessly.”

  “And then they handed me to Ashcroft. The most bad tempered wizard in the universe.”

  “You’ve made him bad tempered,” Moriarty replied tersely, but he could hardly deny her claim. Ashcroft was bad tempered since she came upon the scene.

  Ashcroft had actually been excited about his new apprentice being the last known alive Byndian Witch. His hopes might have been too high. His only apprentices thus far had been Archivist Wizards—his own different race of wizard—and even then, he had rarely taken on apprentices at all. “You make everyone bad tempered,” he added.

  That was probably also true. Charlotte could be unbearable and annoying.

  “He has no right forcing me to go back there,” she added aloofly. “Let me go.”

  “Where do you get off?” Moriarty found himself asking. “You know perfectly well he has the right. You’re the last Byndian—you have to keep your race alive or else your power will fade out of existence with you. And your guardians signed you over to Ashcroft, besides. He’s in charge of your protection and your education.”

  “Only because they forgot what century we live in!” she argued. “They just can’t sign me over! People don’t do that anymore!”

  “You signed, too,” Moriarty reminded simply. “In silver ink.” Silver was sacred to wizards. “Your handwriting.”

  “Under duress,” she finished. He looked into the rearview mirror and arched an eyebrow at the term, ‘duress’. “I was guilted into it!”

  “You mean you were, for a brief shining moment, understanding the responsibilities to your birthright,” he rephrased. “And then you turned into a brat.”

  “Stop calling me that! I still have some rights! I have dreams! That’s why I left.”

  “No, you left because you were lazy. You forget, my dear girl, that I was there. Ashcroft was finally putting his foot down with you.” More so, Ashcroft, after a whole summer of nothing but her showing up late and not doing a thing he said, had run out of ideas of how to get her to work and finally threatened to thrash her if she didn’t start becoming more responsible and if she didn’t improve. She responded by trying to weasel out of her apprenticeship contract.

  “He was a jerk the whole way through. He’s always yelling at me.” Moriarty saw her bottom lip pout and her eyes sc
uttle to the floor by her feet.

  “He never yells,” Moriarty sighed. At least, Ashcroft hadn’t yelled at her; not yet, anyway.

  “He nags. I’ve never done anything right.”

  “I can agree on that,” Moriarty replied quickly, practically attacking at her jugular. Moriarty knew that she had it all wrong. Ashcroft was merely doing a “tough love” act, as he’d done with his male apprentices—and they were all Archivists, which meant that they lived for study as he did. The Byndian Witch, strictly bred by generations of wizard folk with the attention spans of gnats, was quite different. Where Ashcroft’s other apprentices had taken his negativity and had tried harder to appease him, Charlotte was more the type to just flip the bird and give up on the whole ‘being a witch’ thing, as if it was optional and not her race.

  She gritted her teeth at Moriarty and stared quietly out the window, watching them leave the city and head out towards the country. “Just so you know—I was better off sleeping under a bridge.”

  “My ass,” Moriarty snapped. “You were not. You were just too stubborn to crawl back and ask for forgiveness, a warm bed and a warm coat.” He shook his head, hoping she didn’t say anything so stupid to Ashcroft, who might actually have taken offense to such nonsense. “I hope you get a warmed bottom as well, for your trouble.”

  Even in the dim light of the car, Moriarty could see her embarrassment in the rearview mirror. “Shut up! Don’t say that! What’s wrong with you?”

  “You’ve left me with a very surly employer for the last six weeks!” he replied. “That’s what’s wrong with me. Also, it does anger me that someone that had been given so much could just toss it away and hole up in a dressing room with weird hair and hideous clothes.”

  “That was, like, temporary.”

  “Yeah? And when was, like, the last time you ate?” he threw back, mocking her Californian dialect.