Alison Tyler recently sent me a .pdf of a new spanking story she released recently, in which Our Heroine fails to be a good girl during a shopping trip to Sears, and pays quite a price in public humiliation:
As my fingers tripped over an adorable leopard nightie, I felt a menacing presence directly behind me.
“We’re not looking for your things today,” he murmured, right in my ear. “We’re looking for something for me. And if my spoiled little brat can’t get that fact into her head, I’ll have to beat it into her ass.”
I spun to tell him that I’d be good, that I’d pay attention and not be so irritable. But the look on Jarred’s face let me know I’d pressed my luck too far. Before I could speak a word in my defense, Jarred began dragging me toward the furniture section.
“Hon, the televisions are over there…”
“Don’t say a word,” he replied, and I caught the tone in his voice that always twists something deep inside of me. When I checked his expression, a shiver ran through me. Not only did he have his spanking voice in place, his jaw was set in that way he gets when the only two things in his head are his hand and my bottom.
“Not here,” I started, and I could feel that gray funk lift. I no longer wished I was home watching Sex and the City and eating bonbons. I wished I were anywhere but here. At the grocery store behind some tired matron with seventy-two coupons. At the movies, in back of a rude couple who never stopped talking. Even out to lunch with my never-will-approve-of-me in-laws. Anywhere but Sears.
Because Jarred had found what he was looking for, a great big bear of an armless recliner faced away from the main drag, and he sat himself down and pulled me directly over his lap.
“Jesus,” I snapped, in a way I knew I shouldn’t have as soon as I heard the sound of my own voice. “You can’t be serious,” I said in a softer purr.
He answered that statement in a heartbeat, with his palm rather than his words. Before I could protest any further, he delivered five strong blows to my sundress-covered behind. The pain shut me up for a minute, but only a minute. As soon as I caught my breath, I continued begging. “Let’s go outside,” I tried. “To the truck.” I wriggled and squirmed, but not for the reasons Jarred must have thought. Truly, I was doing my best to
keep myself covered.
See, what Jarred didn’t know—at least, what he didn’t know yet—was the fact that my ultimate fuck you to him this morning had been to go commando…
The story is called “Sass” and it’s not quite free; Alison is selling it for a trivial sum in .pdf and Kindle formats (purchase links are at the bottom of this post).
If you’re wondering why I’m blogging about a story you have to buy — something Spanking Blog traditionally has not done very often — it’s because I’m fascinated by this brave new world of electronic publishing. Amidst the ashes of the 20th-century “dead trees and warehouses and fleets of trucks” publishing models, a host of authors and would-be publishers are experimenting with ebook reader devices and file formats and business models, trying their creative best to find ways to get paid for writing fiction. Although I doubt that selling individual erotic short stories for a buck will be a major part of the model that’s finally going to prevail, Alison’s spanking fiction is something I value. We collectively need to find a way for authors like her to get paid, and — given that she’s also been a good sport in the past about experiments that involved buying advertisements on Spanking Blog — I decided to help out with this week’s experiment. Plus, of course, there’s the fact that I liked the story; and if I didn’t tell you where to find it, I couldn’t have quoted from it.