This is an excerpt from "Wrapped Around Your Finger: A Story of Submission" by Alison Tyler. It has been reprinted with permission from Cleis Press. This excerpt is sponsored by LELO.

"A seven-day regimen." That’s what he’d promised me.

Seven days of spanking. The perfect gift for a sub who has everything her heart could possibly desire.

The next day was a mixture of heaven and hell. All day long I knew I was in for a spanking.

All day long, this was the one thing I could think about.

Craving and dread warred within me to such a degree that I was almost useless to perform even the most pedestrian task. Not that I had anything truly important to do. I was fully packed by now. My latest projects were finished. I didn’t have any regular place to be, any clock to punch, any pressing deadlines.

Which left me with plenty of time to think about seven days of spankings. One every night when he got home from work.

Why was this any different from our normal life?

Good question.

Jack spanked me often—in many places in our house, and around the greater Los Angeles area. (Did you see a black-haired minx getting her bottom warmed back in the day? That was probably me.)

The difference was that generally, I had no idea what to expect from my man, no idea what Jack might be in the mood for. Would he cuff me, blindfold me, take me somewhere outdoors to fuck? Would he bring me to a club or escort me to a sex toy store where I could watch, mortification flaring through me, as he hefted the various items of his current pleasure—and my future pain?

This was different. He might as well have penned in a spanking for each day on the calendar. It was all I could think about:

How long would he make me wait?


What toy or tool might he use on me this night?


Would he give me a teasing sort of pre-sex spanking?


Would he go for the long haul, pushing me past mere tears to actual sobs?


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