A week from today, if you’ve preordered Training the Trainer, it will appear on your Kindle, ready for you to devour. If you’re not sure you’ll like it, maybe this excerpt will pique your interest:

Soon enough Grace’s clothes were neatly folded in a pile on the bed and she was standing next to the spanking bench. She never knew what to do with her hands when she was naked in front of someone — it was the one thing she didn’t like about taking her clothes off — but Tim just nodded and opened the bottom drawer of the armoire. He took out a flannel blanket, dark red with huge pink hearts on it, and laid it over the cushioned top of the spanking bench. “To make it more comfortable,” he said. Then he patted the lower part. “Kneel here, and then bend over, with your body flat on the top.”

“Okay.” Grace did as she was told, keeping her legs together as she got into position. She knew her ass looked good when she was bent over, and she hoped Tim was enjoying the view.

He put his hand on her lower back and she swallowed hard. “Tell me what’s off-limits,” he said. “What I shouldn’t touch, that sort of thing.”

“I want the full experience,” Grace said, face turned away, cheek against the soft blanket. Her arms were to her sides, and she reached for the sides of the bench, gripping them tightly to steel herself. “You can touch whatever you need to.” She amended that with: “whatever you want to.”

“All right.” Tim slid his hand down, over the curve of Grace’s ass, and patted her upper thigh. “Rather than saying stop this time, we’re going to use stoplight colors. If I ask you how you’re doing, green means good, yellow means slow down or ease up, and red means stop. Make sense?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t think she’d need any of those signals; Tim had hit her pretty hard the first time, and she hadn’t needed him to slow down at all. Though the thought of him going so hard that she did have to stop him made her stomach twist — how much harder could he go than last time? Was she about to find out?

“Last chance to say no,” he said. He turned so he was standing beside the bench and she felt his other hand on her back. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Absolutely sure.” Her voice caught a little in her throat. “Let’s do it.”

Tim didn’t say anything after that, but his hand smacked her upturned backside and she shifted on her knees. He smacked her again, less than two seconds later, and settled into a rhythm that was a thousand times better than the first time — his hand on her bare ass felt much more intimate, and each time she moved he pressed down on her lower back to still her, without stopping the spanking. Her ass started to warm up, the tingling suffusing her entire lower body; she knew she was getting turned on, but she tried to ignore it because they weren’t going to be having sex.

Grace wanted sex, though. She wanted Tim to spank her until she was bruised again, and then kneel behind her on the bench and fuck her. Ideally she preferred sex face-to-face — most men curved upward, which benefited her g-spot — but she’d take whatever he gave her.

Right now she was taking a spanking, and Tim was still going. She’d lost track of how many swats it had been; she only knew he was working his way from the top of her ass down to her upper thighs and then back again. His hands weren’t huge but he clearly knew what he was doing; each spank cracked, flesh on flesh, and jolted Grace’s body with the intensity.

“Color?” he asked between swats.

“Green.” A pause. “Very green.”

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