features heroine Samantha progressing with her predilections and
exploring the deepest recesses of her master’s dungeon and her heart. The Delicious Torment is a Story of O meets 9 1/2 Weeks coming-of-age tale fueled by lust, longing, and based on the author’s personal diaries. The Delicious Torment
takes readers to Sunset Strip, way up in the sky in a penthouse
apartment overlooking Los Angeles with a love affair ensconced in an
S&M relationship filled with corsets, crops, and plenty of kink. In
the introduction Tyler notes, “This is a novel with me at the center.
That is, my heroine is based on me. I’ve sketched her with broad
strokes, but at our core we are the same. She’s gotten herself entwined
with an older man — nothing new there. But now she has to learn how to
maneuver a 24/7 relationship.”
Alison Tyler, from Chapter Six in The Delicious Torment
Jack left the room, and I could hear the front door open and shut. He’d left the apartment, as well. I sat down on the bed with my notebook, and I stared at the blank page.
That was the perfect description of how I felt. I didn’t have any idea of what I should tell Jack to do to me. I didn’t have any idea what the standard punishment was for things like this in Jack’s world. For inspiration, I crossed the room and opened the closet door, then started to paw through the contents. There were a variety of costume-style outfits: naughty nurse, prisoner of love, 1920s flapper girl. All sexy, sheer, short, and tight. And then I looked at the shelf on top of the closet—the rows of boots, and high heels, and marabou-tipped slippers, and…
At the end of the row was a bag I hadn’t noticed before. A doctor’s bag. I stood on tiptoe to take it down. Jack had never pulled this out before, and it had been tucked in such a way that I had thought it was simply another one of my many purses.
Inside the bag were various real-looking medical devices. I knew what to write about. I didn’t know if I could handle what I was saying. Didn’t know if Jack would even be into what I was writing. But the shame that filled me as I penned the words made me sure that I would at least get credit for effort. I wasn’t going to stick to the same old style of punishment we’d played with in the past. Not a whipping—public or private. Not a session in his hateful puppy cage in Malibu. I spread out the various frightening-looking items and started to work. The stainless-steel speculums. The rectal thermometer. The rubber gloves, the old-fashioned enema syringe…
“She must be unwell,” Alex, the assistant, murmured to the doctor.
“Yes, definitely. When she’s feeling herself, she’d never act in such a naughty fashion.” A deep sigh. “We’ll need to do a thorough exam to determine the cause. It would be against my judgment to punish her until we know the cause for her malfunction.”
“What are you planning?” Alex asked, fingering the different items on the sterile tray.
“You’ll take care of the preparations. The enema. The shower. Record her temperature in her chart. And then I want her spread out on the table and readied for me.”
My heart was pounding. I’d written stories that skirted this issue before, but never really delved. Naughty patient, strict doctor. That’s nothing new. But the thought of Alex assisting Jack made me wet. And the knowledge that Jack had been waiting to play with me like this—that bag up there, where I could find it at any moment—that let me know I must be on the right track. I crossed my legs tight and tried to continue. But in my head, I could already see Alex stripping me of my clothes, handing me some flimsy little tie-in-the-back nightie. Caring for me intimately at the instruction of—and I had to say it, at least in my mind—his Master. Because Alex was as much a slave as I was.
That thought stopped me. Just because I said the words didn’t make them true. I had to consider the concept. But it made sense. Alex didn’t simply punch a clock. No normal job required an assistant to spank a boss’s girlfriend. My head swam, and I tried my best to return to my story. One that I knew would be less fiction and more reality in a matter of minutes. Could I handle that?
I realized that there was no “me” in the piece. Not yet, anyway.
“Call her in.”
The patient entered the room, head down, cheeks flushed pink.
“You know the rules,” the doctor said, his voice stern, but calm. “Lying is a serious offence. But before you’re properly caned, we’ll need to make sure that you’re fully capable of withstanding the punishment.”
Oh shit. Properly caned? Where the fuck had that come from? I crumpled the page and tossed it on the floor, then repacked all of the devices in that black medical bag and tucked it away once more at the back of the closet. I had to work a little to make the top shelf appear undisturbed, and I was sheened with sweat by the time I sat down on the bed and started again.
What if I simply said that Alex should spank me for asking him to lie to Jack? He could bend me over one of the chairs in the living room. He could use his belt. That would make us even, wouldn’t it?
Alison Tyler has made being naughty a full-time job. Her sultry short stories appear in more than 100 anthologies, and she is a prolific editor of bestselling erotic anthologies like The Big Book of Bondage, Sudden Sex, and Down and Dirty. In all things important, she remains faithful to her husband of 15 years, but she still can’t choose just one perfume.
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