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.