You’re just about two-and-a-half weeks away from the release of Over Her Knee, which collects all of my female-top-male-bottom spanking stories in one convenient volume. If you’re one of the people who likes that sort of thing, you should probably pre-order the book now.

I noticed that last week’s preview didn’t actually include any spanking. That was kind of on purpose; I don’t want to give everything away. This preview, from “National Proofreading Day” (part of Holiday Heat: March), gets a little closer:

Speaking of: Trish brought the larger of her suitcases into the school room and started getting things ready. She had three tripods — two for cameras, and the third for her phone — as well as a couple of folding lights that she set up. She had experience doing this, and she knew where they all should go. By the time Paul arrived, Trish was sitting behind the desk, looking at the papers scattered on it, a pen in hand, lights on and cameras rolling, paddle hidden in one of the desk drawers. She was pretending to do some grading, but she looked up and saw Paul slide into one of the desks in the first row. He was wearing gray slacks, a short-sleeved white button-down shirt, and expensive-looking black shoes.

Trish had planned out how she was going to do the scene; Paul hadn’t wanted to know what was coming, as long as she didn’t break any of the limits or boundaries they’d discussed in their planning emails.

They sat silently for a moment, and then Trish said, “do you know what today is, young man?”

“Wednesday, Miss Patricia?”

She smothered a smile. He wasn’t wrong. “Yes. But today is also National Proofreading Day, and we need to have a talk about your latest essay.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it, Miss?” He sounded cavalier — so he was playing it as a confident student who couldn’t possibly be in trouble. She could roll with that.

Trish held up the paper, which had several places circled with red marker. “Your proofreading leaves something to be desired. Again.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Patricia. I’ll do better next time.”

“That’s what you said last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.” She sighed and shook her head, making her movements theatrical enough that they’d look good on camera. “I think you’re being careless. You’re more than capable of turning in an A-plus paper, but with all these errors, it’ll be a C at best.”

“For grammar and spelling mistakes?” There was a false incredulity to his voice, and it sounded fake, but then, Paul wasn’t a professional. “That’s not fair!”

“You don’t get to decide what’s fair, young man.” She slapped the paper down on the desk. “I think you need a strong reminder of just what happens to careless boys in my classroom.”

His eyes widened dramatically. “You don’t mean…”

Trish took out the paddle. “I do mean. You know the rules, and you know the consequences.”

“You can’t paddle me for that!”

“Excuse me?” She stood up and leaned forward, knowing it would show off more of her cleavage for the camera. “This is my classroom, and I make the rules.” She pointed to the desk in front of her. “Get up here. Now.”

“No, Miss Patricia, I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“You’ve already earned ten swats,” she said. “Do I need to double it, or are you going to do as you’re told?”

Paul grumbled, but stood up and made his way to the front of the room, standing by the desk.

“All paddlings in this room are bare-bottomed, and you know it, young man.”

“But you can’t! I can’t take off my pants in front of you!”

Trish pushed him down over the desk and landed three sharp whacks with the paddle, right on the seat of his slacks. He yelped. “That hurts!”

“I know it does. It’s supposed to.” She took hold of the waist of his pants and yanked, and thankfully his hips weren’t too wide because they slid right down, along with his briefs. His backside was already a little pink just from the first three swats.

“Miss Patricia!” he moaned. “Please don’t paddle me, Miss Patricia!”

I’ve never contracted a professional to spank me in any sort of scenario like this. I have been spanked by a professional female top, but money wasn’t exchanged; she did it for fun. However, I feel like I probably did at least an okay job getting into Princess Patricia’s head here. If you’re a professional female top, maybe you could tell me how I did?

Don’t forget to pre-order the book!