Excerpt #1
His eyes narrowed. Had she just inadvertently challenged him?
Shit.
"Come with me," Martin said, grabbing her by the arm and
dragging her out of the room.
Oh crap. She only hoped that he was saving face by leaving them
alone someplace else to ream her or tell her to keep her mouth shut. No such
luck. He led her across the hall to another room, one they hadn't entered yet,
with a long, dark wooden desk. Situated across from it against the wall, was a
chalkboard and on the opposite wall, several implements hanging and waiting
desperately to be used.
"Oh no. I don't l-like this room," Samantha stammered,
trying to escape his grasp. "I'll be polite. I swear, Martin."
Martin's gaze never lightened up. "I don't like your
behavior. I own this club. You don't have to agree with my methods or with what
others do here, but you will respect me and those who choose to practice this
lifestyle. And above all else, while we are here, you will call me Daddy. Is
that understood?"
"Yes, Martin."
"Excuse me?" he guided her farther into the room and
toward the large wooden desk.
She swallowed nervously. "Yes, Daddy." Her mouth grew
dry. "We're only watching tonight, right?" He wasn't going to change
the rules on her, was he? She was onboard with some aspects they'd done
already, but she wasn't comfortable having her bottom burned.
He shook his head and sighed heavily. "That had been my
intention until you humiliated me and disrespected my client. I cannot accept
that type of behavior ever again."
"I promise. I won't say anything. I wasn't thinking, Martin.
I mean, Daddy. This is all still new to me."
Martin released his grip on her, perhaps trusting that she wouldn't
run away. As much as she wanted to, where would she go? Besides, as frightening
as this room was, there were several more doors farther down the hall.
She was nervous and keeping her hands behind her back, covering
her bottom. She knew what was coming and didn't like it.
"A correction is needed to teach you right from wrong. It's
clear to me now more than ever you need Daddy's discipline."
Maybe she could bargain with him. "You're right, Daddy. I do
need your discipline, but could we maybe do it back at the house? Where it's
just the two of us?" She didn't want to be put on display for anyone to
witness. Not to mention the added benefit of time, so maybe he would cool down.
"Absolutely not. You will accept your punishment, and because
this is your first offense and your first time at the club, I will only use my
hand. Take a good long and hard look at all those implements on the wall,
Samantha. The next time, it won't be so gentle."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. How bad could a spanking
truly be if it was administered with his hand? She wasn't a child. It couldn't
hurt that bad, could it?
"Lie across the table, bottom up, dress lifted so that I can
see your behind."
Samantha hung her head, refusing to look at him. She'd seen the
fine print in that stupid contract she had signed that had said she would agree
to be disciplined as a Daddy sees fit. A small part of her had been excited to
see what he had in mind but this, quite honestly, she wasn't sure what she had
been expecting.
Martin came up from behind, his hands pushing down her panties,
exposing her bottom. She couldn't tell if anyone was watching from the door.
She lifted her back from the table, glancing around to see if they were alone.
No one else watched, at least not yet. Maybe when he began
striking her bottom, they would flock to the entrance of the room.
He'd never seen her rear until today and she felt naked against
the cold wooden table. He pushed her back down against the desk, guiding her
body to be flush with the wood. "You will learn to submit to me, Samantha,
and be a good little one. Do not move," he commanded. He spread her legs
further apart and she gasped, feeling a slight breeze against her wetness. Had
he breathed in her scent and exhaled a soft breath, or was she truly imagining
the intimacy of the moment because her eyes were slammed shut.
His hand came down, smacking her bottom hard. Her hips bucked
against the wood and her buttocks clenched. "Okay, that's enough!" She'd
had one smack to her bottom. "You made your point."
"I don't believe I did, Samantha." His breath hovered
against her as he leaned down, pressing her body against the table, his hand at
her back holding her down, his trousers pressed tight against her backside. She
moaned and whimpered, desiring contact, her sex throbbing and pulsating. A part
of her wanted to reach around and touch herself but she wouldn't, not in front
of him. He'd probably enjoy it too much.
"Do you like being spanked?" Martin asked, his hand
keeping her pressed to the wood.
She wasn't keen on the position, but feeling him having all the
power, with her at his mercy, it was doing something to her that she couldn't
quite explain. His hips thrust into hers and she wasn't sure whether he was
teasing her or something else entirely. Was he as turned on as she was?
Excerpt #2
Apparently, that wasn't what he had in mind. His hand came down,
walloping her bottom.
She squealed and kicked, attempting to slip from his grasp, but he
held her firmly, keeping her bent over his lap.
She hated that she'd worn a dress, the material thin against her
bottom. Not that it mattered, he lifted it and pulled down her violet satin
panties. The sensation of his fingers guiding the material down forced her legs
to clench as her sex grew hot and wet. She shut her eyes, wanting more of the
arousal to sweep over her body.
Instead, she felt Martin's large, thick hand smack her bottom.
"Ouch!" she shrieked. "Would you stop with that?"
"With what? You haven't even taken a real spanking the way I
prefer to give them—with an implement."
Her eyes widened, silently hoping she didn't have anything in her
home that could be used as a tool to spank her bottom with. She covered her
rear with her hands.
Martin grabbed her wrists, pulling them together in one hand and
behind her back. "You are going to need restraints when we have discipline
sessions, aren't you?"
Samantha's mouth grew dry and her stomach fluttered with
butterflies. "Restraints?" her voice croaked, betraying her. She wasn't
sure she was ready to be tied up yet or handcuffed to a bedpost somewhere. That
would be a huge step for her, to trust implicitly.
His hand came down, peppering her bottom. Smack. Smack. Smack. Each
swat left a sting, and the throbbing only intensified to her sex. Why was she
turned on? She wanted to be angry with him for treating her this way.
"I hate you," Samantha shouted as his palm covered her
bottom, one cheek and then the next, to the tops of her thighs and then back to
her seat.
She whimpered and whined, her hips bucking with each smack and her
bottom clenching too.
"It hurts less if you don't clench down so much, little one."
His warm palm stung as he rubbed her bottom, grabbing and squeezing her flesh.
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