Spanking Shorts 5: Mature Discipline

The series returns. This time for the women who have been waiting.

The earlier books in the Spanking Shorts series gave you Victorian discipline and domestic authority and the full charged range of what happens when someone who needs something finally finds someone willing to provide it. This book gives you something the series has not yet delivered.

Women who know exactly what they want. Women who have known for a very long time.

They are not young. They are lawyers and headteachers and gallery directors and literary editors and textile artists and professors and wives and oldest friends. They have built careers and marriages and studios and departments with considerable competence and considerable care, and they have arrived, somewhere between their late forties and their mid-sixties, at the understanding that competence is not the same as being fully present in your own life.

Each of them needs something that their precision and their professionalism and their considerable management of everything cannot provide. Something direct and real and physical. Something that cannot be observed from a careful distance or handled with the efficiency they bring to everything else.

Ten women. Ten people who have decided, on a specific evening in a specific room, to stop waiting.

A corporate lawyer who has not let anyone take care of her in ten years. A senior partner whose husband has been waiting since the promotion was announced. A widow who arranged her life so precisely after her husband died that she made herself smaller than she actually is. A consultant cardiologist whose personal trainer has been watching her perform her sessions rather than be present in them. A wife who needs an entire weekend to address what the week and the pattern and ten months of holding things have produced. A literary editor who has spent thirty years reading other people’s interior worlds while keeping her own at a careful professional distance. A woman who has not been spanked since her first husband died fourteen years ago and whose second husband has been patient for three years. Two educators at a conference in Edinburgh who disagree about Ofsted and agree about everything else by Wednesday night. A gallery director whose accountant has been watching her coast for two years. And two women who have been closest friends for forty years, spending the last summer in a house about to be sold, finally saying the things that forty years of not saying them has made both more difficult and more necessary.

The spanking in every story is explicit. Bare skin always. The implement named and described and felt stroke by stroke with the full physical attention it deserves. The hand, the belt, the strap, the hairbrush, the leather paddle, the tawse and the cane, each distinct, each specific, each applied by someone who knows what they are doing and why.

The arousal is real and named and described directly because these are women who have stopped pretending that the correction and the wanting are separate things. They are not separate. They have never been separate. The only thing that changes with age is the willingness to stop pretending.

The sex scenes are detailed and complete. Every one of them. No fading to black. No elegant implication. The orgasms described arriving and moving through the body of a woman who knows her body and has stopped apologising for what it wants.

All characters 18+. Explicit M/F and F/F sexual content, consensual spanking and power exchange, multiple implements and contemporary settings across ten standalone stories. Read them in any order. But read them.

The door is closed. Something honest is happening behind it. And this time the woman on the other side has been waiting long enough to know exactly what honest feels like.