Now available from Blushing Books! You can purchase this sparkling and sexy power exchange romance from Amazon or privately via the publisher.
When Bess Leighton lands the part of the Sugarplum Fairy in an original choreography by the renowned Soren Falk, she's overjoyed at what it could mean for her career. The stern, demanding Soren has had a legendary career, and dancing for him is the greatest honor in the ballet company. Soren demands that Bess spend three weeks in November training with him at his chalet in Vermont before rehearsals begin, and she readily agrees.
But on her first night in Vermont, Bess learns that Soren has a stern hand with his dancers, and is all too happy to put her over his knee for a hard, bare-bottomed spanking. When he discovers her deep erotic pleasure in being mastered, the aristocratic Soren decides to train her into the perfect, proper lady with strictly-enforced rules and etiquette and plenty of old-fashioned discipline. But neither expects the deep emotional connection that blossoms between them as the snow flies outside.
When they return to Seattle to begin rehearsals, Soren wants to keep their relationship a secret, and Bess can't shake the powerful need she has to be his in all ways. She performs her role in the ballet brilliantly, but all the time she's becoming more and more lost and unhappy in her desire for Soren. Can Soren accept the gift she's offering, or will their new love be as fleeting as the sparkle and shine of a Christmas ballet?
“Good girl,” he praised. “How do you feel?”
“Still scared,” Bess answered eagerly. “But...is it wrong that I want you to spank me again? Tonight? Only not the paddle, please,” she added quickly, not eager for more harsh treatment from that implement.
Soren shook his head. “No—you're a good girl to tell me that you need a spanking. And because you are such a good girl, I will not use the paddle. You may choose whether you are spanked with my belt or the bath brush. You will be feeling both often while you are being trained.”
“I...I don't know what either is like,” she said shyly. “Which do you think I should have, sir?”
“Hmm...stand up, let me see your bottom,” Soren ordered. When Bess obeyed, turning away so he could examine the sore, raw skin, he said, “I think the bath brush tonight. I want to keep my pretty girl over my knee for a very long time.”
“Will it hurt very badly?” Bess quavered.
“Yes,” he answered seriously. “I want to watch you cry and kick your feet like a sweet, helpless little girl. I want to hear you beg. Understand, if afterwards a punishment feels like too much, we will discuss it. But once you go over my knee for a spanking, you have no control over when it ends. I want to push you all the way down into a docile, obedient pet. Now go get the bath brush. It is in the tub, through there,” he said indicating. He watched her closely, expectantly.
Bess was frightened and wished they could have discussed it more—his talk of kicking and crying was frightening, but exhilarating too. He would spank her as long as he chose, no matter how she pleaded and struggled. She went to the bathroom and got the solid, maple-backed bath brush. It was a little lighter and less fearsome than the paddle Soren had used on her, but not much. She brought it to Soren, knees shaky, eyes downcast.