Feb 14, 2011


He stared at her flashing, angry eyes and the unattractive snarl that graced her lips. The sharp words she was throwing at him, the bad attitude she was exuding from every pore… this was unacceptable behavior and she knew it. He could have gotten angry, sent harsh words back at her; heck, this would be the start of a good ol’ knock-down, drag-out fight in most relationships. But not theirs.

Instead of getting angry, he got very quiet. Only his eyes betrayed his annoyance. She saw the way his jaw hardened, his body settling into itself with a kind of determined reserve, and her words dried up as she took a slight step backwards.

“If you’re going to act like a bitch, you’ll get treated like one.” His voice was quite calm, almost soft.

Her eyes clouded with confusion, but he didn’t give her time to decipher his meaning. Instead, he took her wrist in his iron grip and strode to their room, his body a shield, pressing her ahead of him. At the foot of their bed, he halted and stared down at her.


Her eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed a little as she fought to get the control back.

“I will not…” she began, but was cut off as he abruptly spun her towards the bed, sat down, and somehow had her over his knee. Five quick, firm slaps against her backside had her squirming against him, yelling for all she was worth. He almost smiled, watching her senseless struggle against his authority; they both knew how this would turn out.

Another five spanks, harder than the last, calmed her down just a touch.

“Are you ready to do as I say now?” he asked evenly.

“Why do you want me to take my clothes off anyway?” Her voice came out as a whine.

Instead of answering, he easily peeled back the loose sweats she was wearing, dragging her panties down too. If there was something he hated more than a snotty attitude, it was the whiny voice that signified her too-obvious bid to talk herself out of trouble.

This time, his hand rained down on her ass hard and fast, not letting up until he felt her body relax across his knees and heard sniffles coming from under the long hair that draped down to hide her face.

He ran his palm gently over her warm, pleasantly red skin. “Will you obey me now, little one?”

A very quiet, damp “Yes, Sir” drifted up to him.

He helped her off his lap, gazing at her as she stood there, her pants at her ankles, panties down around her thighs, tears and snot running down her face, and wondered how he could ever love someone more than he loved her. Which, of course, meant that he had to stick to the punishment he’d decided upon.

“I want you completely naked,” he instructed as he rose from the bed and went to his closet on the far side of the room.

He found what he wanted and returned to her side. Her clothing was a pile at her feet; the only thing she still wore was her everyday collar. He moved behind her, pushing her hair out of the way and unfastening her collar. Not understanding his intent, she started to turn around, a cry of denial ready to jump from her throat, but a sharp warning slap on one bright red buttock stopped her in her tracks.

“Trust me, little one,” he murmured, slipping a wide leather collar around her neck. He buckled it snugly and then turned her around to face him, threading one finger through the collar’s o-ring and pulling her face close to his.

“If you’re going to act like a bitch, you’ll get treated like one,” he repeated. He let her go. “Down on your hands and knees, little bitch.”

She looked at him for a moment, seemed to see the steely resolve in his eyes, and dropped to the floor. He picked something off the bed, then moved so that he was behind her again. What was that? she wondered frantically. A cane? Belt? She wasn’t prepared for him to kneel behind her and spit. She groaned inwardly as she felt wetness slide down the cleft of her ass. The groan became audible when his fingers caught the liquid and began working it into her tight hole.  She started to squirm.

He smacked her bottom, right on the sit-spot, making her jump. “Hold still,” he directed. One finger became two, then three, pushing and stretching her out. Suddenly, something cold and hard was pressed against her. He pushed the butt plug in and she felt herself close around it right before she felt something else brush her thigh. What the…?

There was no time to wonder. “Look behind you, little doggy,” he stated. Obediently, she turned to look back at him, and got an eyeful of their full length mirror instead, where her ass, complete with long, black tail, was on display.

“Come,” he ordered, walking towards the bedroom door. He didn’t even look back to see if she was following. Resolutely, she crawled after her Master.

He stopped in the living room, right next to the large crate where their Retriever slept at night. He opened the metal gate, bent, and pulled the doggy bed out, replacing it with the soft blanket she usually kept on the sofa for when it was cold. He motioned with his hand. “In.”

He sounded just like he did when he ordered the dog around! Her cheeks reddened to match her ass, and, for a moment, she couldn’t even look up at him.

“Please, Sir…” she murmured.

“Now, little bitch,” he said, his tone softening just a little, just enough to remind her that he knew what was best for her, that he would never let her get away with anything she shouldn’t be doing.

She crawled into the crate, pushing the blanket around to make a soft spot for her to cuddle into. He bent down, setting her sock monkey inside with her.

“Good girl,” he praised, kissing the top of her head. Then he shut and latched the door and sat down on the nearby sofa to watch television.

With a sigh, she curled up on the blanket, sock monkey in her arms. Her ass throbbed, and felt very full with his humiliating plug in it. But her self-importance and spiteful attitude had totally dissipated, leaving behind a soft, relaxed little sub in their place. Exactly what Master had intended, of course.

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