Greetings! I'm trying to get the word out about my new BDSM short story collection, Just A Spanking, which is now available on Amazon Select. That means that if you're an Amazon Prime member, you can borrow the book for free. It also means that I'll be having more free promo days for everyone in the future. I'll try to give you more advance warning next time!
So some readers have asked me whether there's a lot of pain in this book. It is, after all, BDSM. Well, pain in not the main point. The core of BDSM is what's called "power exchange". The submissive willingly surrenders her will and her body to the care of the dominant. The dominant has a responsibility to take care of the submissive, both physically and psychologically. BDSM is not about abuse - quite the opposite. In fact, it's about being cherished (as a submissive) and worshipped (as a dominant). It's about trust.
Here's a quick snippet from the title story, "Just a Spanking". I hope you like it.
***
We manage to meet at least one weekend a month, despite the distance and the demands of our regular lives. Sometimes I fly up to visit him. Sometimes he comes down to see me. Either way, as soon as we are together, we're swept into some alternate existence where every sensation is magnified and every emotion has the weight of revelation. The so-called real world simply evaporates. For me, for those two magic days, his voice, his fingers, his cock are the only realities. Plus the implements of pain and pleasure that he uses so imaginatively as an extension of his will.
He meets me at the airport with a kiss tender enough to reassure me that I'm more than just his slut. His lips wake every inch of my flesh. By the time he releases me, I'm flushed and tingling all over. After that initial embrace, however, he doesn't touch me at all.
He leads me to the parked car. I remember him taking me once in a sweltering parking lot, his fingers crammed into my cunt while he whispered all the indignities he planned to inflict on my poor body. As I fluttered helpless around his hand, I knew that he could ask anything of me and I'd obey. Now he is asking something new, a kind of restraint that I find more difficult than any bondage.
I am dressed as he requires, short skirt with no panties, silk blouse with no bra, and my favorite lace-up boots. I fidget on the seat as he drives up 101. The plastic is sticky against my bare skin and getting stickier by the minute. He stubbornly keeps his eyes on the road.
I part my thighs. The car fills with the ripe scent of my pussy. His nostrils twitch but otherwise he ignores me. My nipples feel as huge and hungry as they do when he winds them with rubber bands. I try to keep still. Each whisper of silk across my breasts makes my cunt clench and weep.
He opens the car door—a gentleman Dom—and helps me out. The brief contact of palm on palm makes me shudder with want. I follow him up the stairs to his apartment, watching his strong buttocks shift in his trousers as he climbs. I think about how they tense and relax when he fucks me. I'm panting by the time we reach the third floor, but not from exertion.
The door swings open. He steps aside, gesturing for me to enter. Normally he'd have me pressed against the wall, knee in my crotch and hands under my blouse, before the lock clicked shut. Today he simply stands beside me, a half-smile on his full lips, as I survey the familiar room.
He has already set things up. In the dining area, the table has been pushed out of the way. Two of the chairs face us, side by side, flanked by the ottoman that normally sits in front of the armchair. That armchair is the usual location for his spankings, but I can see that tonight will be different. He's trying to minimize my contact with his body. Clever man.
“Strip,” he orders, as he has so many times before. My heart somersaults in my chest, as it always does. He seats himself in the middle chair to watch me remove the few clothes I'm wearing.
I can feel the weight of his eyes, tracing my curves, lingering on my swelling breasts. I move as slowly and sensuously as I can, working to arouse him, to undermine his resolution not to touch me. His pants are loose. I can't really tell whether his cock is hard, but his lips are parted and there's a flush on his cheeks.
“Behave yourself, Becca,” he warns. “No teasing, or you'll get the cane after I'm finished with your spanking. In fact, you're guaranteed the cane if you're not naked in ten seconds.” His threat has the desired effect. I tear off my blouse and a button goes flying into the corner. I don't care. I stand naked before him, awaiting his instructions.
He makes me wait. Heat shimmers through me . Blood pounds in my ears. I study my toes and listen to my breath. Fear and excitement co-mingle, until I can't tell one from the other. My bratty determination to make him touch me fades away, although my clit still throbs and my juices trickle down my thighs. All I want is to please him. I'll wait forever if that is what it takes. Indeed, a part of me would rather wait than know what comes next.
****
By the way, my offer from Tuesday is still open. If you review Just a Spanking on Amazon, I'll send you a copy of my other e-collection of short stories, Body Electric. Just send me the link!
