It’s here! It’s here! It’s finally here!

(Well, actually, it’ll be here March 15, but you can pre-order Training the Trainer right now, if you like.)

Not sure if you want to read the book? Here’s a preview of one of the spanking scenes:

“Have you ever been spanked with anything other than a hand?”

She shook her head. “Lewis sometimes threatened me with his belt when we were playing, but he never used it.”

“Well, I’m not going to use a belt our first time out. But I can paddle your bottom if you like.”

‘Bottom’ made Grace squirm — Tim wasn’t belittling her, but the term made her feel like he had that much more power, that he was in charge, and she didn’t know why. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s try it.”

Tim stepped away — Grace’s back felt cool where his hand had been touching her — and she heard him open his armoire and close it again. This time when he touched her, he did put some pressure on her back, and she squirmed and shifted, opening her legs a little more to fight the urge to rub her thighs together and get some sort of relief from her arousal. She jumped slightly when a piece of cool, smooth wood touched her ass. “This is a light, small paddle. I think it’s all we should use this time.”

“If you say so.”

There must have been something in her voice because he added: “Don’t worry; it’ll still hurt plenty.”

Now she looked back at him. “Prove it.”

Grace had tried to sound like she was lightly goading him, and hoped she’d pulled it off.

Without warning, Tim swatted her ass with the paddle, right in the center, where there was almost no fabric from her panties to get in the way. She jumped and let out a small gasp; he was right: it had hurt.

Another swat, right on top of the first one; another gasp.

Then three more.

Then two on her left side, right at the bottom of her ass. Then two on the right. It didn’t sting; it was more like a brief burn. It felt… not good, per se, but right. It was right that Tim was holding her down and spanking her with a paddle. It was right that her ass was feeling this kind of pain. It was right for her.

Tim paddled Grace for about a minute and then stopped, pressing the back of his hand against her ass. “Getting warm back here,” he teased.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Grace pushed her backside against his hand.

“Oh, so you want more?”

She didn’t answer with words; she just made an affirmative noise and buried her head in her hands.

The next spank was the hardest yet, and it really, really hurt. He paused barely long enough for the heat to sink in, and then hit the other side, just as hard. That was the rhythm he used: spank, count to three in her head, spank the other side, count to three in her head, and repeat. It didn’t matter where the paddle landed; each one hurt just as much whether it was over her panties or on her bare skin. This, she supposed, was what a real spanking should feel like. It should hurt more than she thought she wanted, and it should cover her entire ass — and he even got the tops of her thighs a few times, which stung like a hundred bees on her skin — and she found that she didn’t even miss the fake lectures Lewis used to give her. She didn’t need those.

She just needed this.

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