There are some excerpts from Spanked: Red-Cheeked Erotica up at the PGW (the distributor) website:
Erotic spanking — whether giving or receiving — is one of the most exciting, arousing, and sensual experiences to enjoy. In this enticing collection, spanking enthusiast Rachel Kramer Bussel has assembled 22 tales of red-cheeked arousal. Whether being disciplined for naughtiness or simply because they crave the sting of a hand against flesh, the men and women in these stories revel in being bent over, paddled, punished, and possessed by their spankers. Those delivering the blows find extreme pleasure in pushing their bottoms’ buttons, making them — and the reader — tremble and quiver in anticipation as they await the next smack. Featuring stories by Alison Tyler, Sage Vivaint, Lillian Ann Slugocki, Stan Kent, Elizabeth Coldwell, Thomas Roche, and others, this sizzling collection offers tales so breathtakingly vivid that readers might find their own cheeks sore just from reading it.
from “Spanking You” by Rick Roberts
I used to tease you at the beginning of every spanking. As you’d kneel before me on the bed, not a stitch of clothing on your tan body, I’d fake the first blow—stopping just short of your ass, letting the air kiss your skin—and then place an affectionate caress onto your behind. By removing the certainty of whether the next sensation would be soft or a stinging slap, I’d keep you centered in the moment, keep you waiting and vulnerable, and your anticipation for the spanking grew. I would look down at you and smile, knowing that your desire for the first slap on your ass was growing unbearable by the moment.
from “Page by Page” by Laura Bacchi
He warmed me up nice and slow with the journal, each smack landing on a different part of my ass. Left. Right. Sides and dead center of each cheek. I savored the heat building on the surface, felt the burn reach my nipples as they dared to stretch further toward the floor. He picked up the pace, let the book pound me harder now. Below the leather cover, my ass tingled and the flesh deeper inside each cheek opened up to the pain while I opened up, like a story. Page by page, each new word stripping back a layer here and there, pushing me—the real me—to unfold for him.
He dropped the book. I jumped at the noise it made—the thud of the leather and the flipping of pages. I knew what would happen next…His hand. His palm wide and hot against me. His fingers teasing the rosy splotches he’d made.