Mid-Week Submission: Pet’s Obedience

It was a quiet Wednesday afternoon, and the house was mine—no distractions, no interruptions, just me and Pet. He was positioned in the corner, completely naked, his head bowed in shame, awaiting my next command. His breathing was shallow, almost fearful, as he knelt on the cold floor, trying to keep still. His cock was hard, straining against the submission I demanded, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. I could feel his need, the desperation rolling off him in waves.

I lounged on the couch, dressed in a tight black leather corset that hugged every curve of my body. The matching leather skirt clung to my thighs, short enough to remind him of my power, the stiletto heels of my boots resting on the cushion beside me. My red lipstick matched my perfectly manicured nails, which I idly tapped against my phone screen as I scrolled through social media. I didn’t even look at him. His presence was insignificant unless I needed something.

He feared me, and rightly so. I could sense the way his body trembled with anticipation and anxiety. His cock twitched, aching for release, but I knew I would deny him that pleasure for as long as I pleased. The sight of him, muscles taut with tension, his chest heaving as he tried to control his breath, amused me. His cock was thick, easily eight inches, veiny and pulsing, yet utterly useless without my permission.

Every now and then, I would glance up from my phone, catching the slight movement in his back as he fidgeted, desperate for attention, desperate for me. I didn’t say a word. I enjoyed this—his suffering, his silent pleas for acknowledgment that went ignored.

After what felt like an eternity to him, I finally spoke.

"Pet," I said, not bothering to look up. "Come here."

His response was immediate. He crawled towards me, his body visibly shaking, the leash dragging behind him like a chain of his submission. When he reached the couch, I didn’t look at him, just stretched my legs and placed my feet on his back. He shuddered under the weight, his cock dripping pre-cum onto the floor beneath him.

I scrolled through my phone, completely indifferent to his suffering. He was nothing more than furniture to me, a tool for my comfort. I could feel his muscles tensing under my boots, his body trembling, but he remained still. Good. He knew better than to move without permission.

After a while, I grew bored of my phone and tapped him lightly with my foot. "On the couch," I commanded, "all fours."

Without hesitation, Pet climbed onto the couch beside me, his body shaking with both fear and arousal. I could see his cock twitching between his legs, the tip glistening with more pre-cum as he obeyed. I leaned back, enjoying the sight of his submissive form next to me.

I spread his ass cheeks, my fingers brushing lightly over his tight hole. His breath hitched, a soft moan escaping his lips as I lowered my head and let my tongue flick over him. His body trembled violently at the sensation, his breathing becoming heavier, more erratic. I could feel his cock throbbing under my touch, begging for release, but I wasn’t done teasing him yet.

My hand reached between his legs, stroking his cock slowly, agonisngly, just enough to push him to the edge. His hips bucked slightly, but I tightened my grip, holding him in place as I continued to lick and stroke him. His moans grew louder, more desperate, but I was in no hurry.

"Please, Mistress," he whimpered, his body trembling uncontrollably as I pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

But just as I felt him about to tip over, I stopped. I pulled my hand away, watching his body collapse in frustration, his cock twitching pathetically as the denied orgasm tore through him.

"Not yet," I whispered, my voice cold and commanding.

I stood up, leaving him on the couch, still trembling, still desperate for the release that only I could give him.

"Go get the cleaning supplies," I said coldly. "It's time you earned your keep."

Without a word, Pet crawled away to gather everything I needed. His cock swung between his legs as he moved, but he knew better than to even acknowledge his own arousal. His pleasure was irrelevant here. His purpose was to serve me, and only me.

For the next hour I put him to work—cleaning the floors, dusting the shelves, and making sure every corner of my home reflected the level of submission I demanded.

As he scrubbed the floor on his hands and knees, I watched him, making sure every stroke of his hand was perfect. But as he cleaned, I noticed him slowing down, his concentration slipping. A mistake. I sighed, my patience growing thin.

"Stop," I said sharply.

Pet froze, his breath quickening as he realized his mistake.

"You’ve been sloppy, and now you’ll be punished."

I retrieved the spreader bar and snapped it into place between his ankles, forcing him to spread his legs wide. He whimpered softly but didn’t resist as I ordered him to kneel. Then, without hesitation, I grabbed the small bowl of rice I kept for moments like this and spread it across the cold floor in front of him.

"Get on your knees," I commanded, watching him hesitate for a fraction of a second before complying.

The pain was immediate. I could see it in the way his muscles tensed, the sharp breaths he took, but he didn’t dare move. I circled him slowly, the tension thick in the air. He had disobeyed, and there would be consequences.

"You will stay like this until I decide you've learned your lesson," I said coldly. "And if you move before I allow it, your punishment will only get worse."

I disappeared from the room for a few moments, returning with the piece that would complete his torment—a fresh wedge of ginger. I saw him stiffen as I approached, knowing exactly what was coming.

"Face down, ass up," I ordered.

Pet complied immediately, his trembling hands bracing him as I slid the ginger into his asshole. He gasped at the intrusion, his body quivering from the burn that would build with every passing minute. But it wasn’t just the pain he feared—it was the shame of knowing he had failed me, and that this was the price he had to pay.

I attached the spreader bar to his wrists, securing him completely. With his legs forced apart, his knees grinding into the rice, and the ginger burning in his ass, he was trapped in a cycle of punishment and service. Every tiny movement made the sting sharper, but I knew he would endure it for as long as I demanded.

For now, I left him there, his body quivering in pain and submission, knowing that when I returned, his only thought would be to serve me perfectly, without hesitation. He had learned that disobedience wouldn’t be tolerated, and soon he would be begging for my forgiveness, ready to devote himself fully once again.

After an hour, I returned to where Pet remained kneeling, his body trembling from the strain, the ginger still burning inside him. His breaths were shallow, his muscles tight, but his obedience had returned. I knelt beside him, gently removing the ginger, and undid the spreader bar, his limbs relaxing under my touch.

"Good boy," I murmured, my tone softening as I gently massaged his sore wrists and knees, offering him a moment of comfort. Aftercare was important. Even after punishment, he needed to know his place—cherished in his submission, but disciplined for disobedience.

I led him to the couch, guiding him to lay his head on my lap. My hands ran over his hair, soothing him as he drifted into a quiet calm. The tension in his body slowly released, replaced with the satisfaction of knowing he had learned his lesson and pleased me, even through punishment.

"You've done well," I said, my voice low, but firm. "But you’ll always need to be reminded of who owns you, won’t you, Pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and relief.

I gave him a few more moments of quiet aftercare, letting the connection between us settle. Then, I stood, allowing him to rise slowly to his knees, his body still shaking slightly from the long session.

"It’s time for you to go home now," I said, my voice once again cold and in control. "To your wife and kids. You’ve served me well today, but you’ll remember your place until I call for you again."

"Thank you, Mistress," he whispered, his eyes filled with reverence as he dressed quietly. He knew better than to linger.

As the door closed behind him, I smiled to myself. Another session complete, and another lesson etched into his mind.

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