Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
I narrow my eyes at him.
He lifts his brow. “If that look crosses your face while my coworker is here, you’ll be punished and put in your kennel for the rest of the day with no blanket. The mattress on the bottom is a luxury, too, naughty girl. I can take it away and make you sit in there on the hard base.”
I swallow. “I’ll be good, Daddy.”
“I thought so. Do you think you can learn some simple commands quickly?” His voice is off. He’s teasing me. But he’s also serious.
“Let’s see. We’ve already covered heel and come. Anytime I get up, I’ll command you to heel, and I expect you to rise onto all fours at my side. I’ll use the hand motion of pointing at the floor next to my side.”
I try to control my expression.
He continues. “When I say come, I’ll bring my palm up to my chest. You’ll trot alongside me. In the future, when you’re well trained and able to be left in other rooms, you’ll come when I call you without hesitation.”
I’m breathing heavily as I stare up at him. My heart is racing. I want to argue, but I don’t.
“Are those commands clear, Little pet?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.
“Good. Let’s go over a few more. When I say sit, I want you to rise onto your knees and lean back, lowering your bottom onto your heels or between them. Try it.” He reaches for my leash and lifts, as if I need the motion to follow his simple demand.
I come up off my hands onto my knees and sit back.
“Good girl. Pull your shoulders back and rest your hands on your thighs.”
I shiver as I follow his instructions. My breasts are bare. If he expects me to sit like this in front of people, I will feel exposed and embarrassed. I’m chilly, so my nipples will be hard. That’s probably his goal.
“The hand motion for that will be my hand palm up in front of you. I’ll lift it slightly.” He demonstrates.
“Yes, Daddy,” I mutter.
Daddy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag. I don’t know what’s in it. Small brown pieces. I can’t identify them. I cock my head as he opens the bag. He puts one tiny piece on his palm and holds it out toward my face.
I lift my gaze, uncertain what he expects me to do.
“It’s a treat, Little pet. When we train pets on Venkoria and they learn a new command, we give them a treat.” He shakes his hand, as if to remind me of the treat.
I lean back, pursing my lips.
He picks it up and taps my lips with it. “I promise you’ll like it.”
I catch the scent of it and even a bit of the taste. It seems sugary. I can’t place it, probably because I’ve never had whatever it is before.
“Try it,” he encourages again.
Reluctantly, I part my lips and let him pop it into my mouth. The flavor surprises me. It’s sweet as I suspected. It melts in my mouth. Delicious. I want another.
“Yeah?”
I lick my lips as if I could get more of it by doing so. “It’s yummy, Daddy.” I eye the bag on his thigh.
“Good. I’m glad you like it. Heel.” He points to the floor.
I shudder as I obey him. As soon as I’m in position, he holds his palm out in front of my mouth with another tasty morsel on it. “Mouth only, Little pet. Pick it up with your tongue.”
I bend my head to take the treat out of his palm with my tongue and purr as I’m reminded how tasty it is.
“Good girl. See? You learn fast. Now, sit.”
I lift onto my knees and rest back on my heels, remembering almost too late to pull my shoulders back and rest my palms on my thighs.
“Good girl.” Another treat rests in his palm.
This time, I eagerly lap it up with my tongue.
Daddy strokes my cheek. “You’ve mastered sit and heel. Do you think you can learn another one?”
The glare I shoot at him could melt glass. He’s testing me, and I’m done with this madness.
Without a word, Daddy lifts me, lowers me over his lap, removes my diaper, holds me down with a hand at the small of my back, and spanks my bottom. He doesn’t warm up. He spanks me hard and fast until I’m crying and pleading with him to stop.
By the time he’s done, I’m exhausted and unable to lift my head from where it hangs over the side of his thigh. My braid is grazing the floor. My nose is running. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and my Daddy has his hand between my legs.
I moan when he touches my pussy. Why must he mix his painful punishments with pleasure? It’s confusing me. My mind is forced to shift from focusing on my anger and the pain to homing in on my now tingling, swollen folds. Was I wet before he stopped spanking me? Maybe. I’m not sure.