“What’re you doing out of the corner, and why in the name of hell are you screaming?” Preston’s eyebrows were furrowed, and no doubt he simply thought she was being defiant.
“N-no, I’m not being bad. I promise,” Avery said, quickly. “It’s a spider. Preston you have to kill it. It’s huge and I can’t — I won’t — stand in the corner until he’s dead. Kill him, please!”
Preston laughed, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and walking around her to the corner. “Well, he’s pretty big. I have to say. We’ll just get rid of him for you.” He killed the spider and pointed to the dead body on the floor of the woodshed.
She nodded, satisfied that his legs had been crushed from his body and he was unable to march in her direction — or any direction — again. She resolutely walked toward the corner again.
Preston stopped her. “I think you’ve had enough. Let’s get you up to the playroom and you can get into your crate for the start of your second lesson. You’ll rely on me for any and all freedoms you have for the next twenty-four hours.”
Chapter 14
Preston followed that sweet ass to the playroom, the sway of Avery’s red striped bottom accentuated by the mincing steps she took due to the pain in said bottom. Her shoulders were stooped as she walked, giving the impression of a repentant and remorseful girl. And he found himself thinking once again that all he wanted to do was tackle her to the dew covered ground and fuck her senseless in the night air, embracing and pounding into the red hot flesh.
Preston you really need to stop thinking like this. Thinking of her ass and its heat on your cock won’t help at this point.
Avery waited at the door of the playroom so he could unlock it. “After you, girl. Take off the rest of your clothes at the door. You know the rules. And then I want you on all fours crawling to your rug, ass up, waiting for your tail and collar. Move.” Preston put the key back and turned on the lights, illuminating the playroom and all its dark promise. He then turned the heat, lights and warming blanket in her crate, and turned the heat on in the playroom. He wanted his kitten as comfortable as possible. She had a sore bottom and was feeling like a pretty bad kitty at this point, but he wanted to ensure she was comfortable in all other areas.
When he turned to her, she was obediently ass up as requested.
“What a good kitty you are,” he said, walking over to her. “I guess a striped and lashed bottom will do that to a kitty, won’t it Miss Avery?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I really am.” Her voice broke on the last sentence and Preston felt his resolve weakening. God, how he loved this woman. If she ever figured out how easily she could have her way, he would be in big trouble. He needed to keep that ace in the hole and not tip has hand to her on that. It didn’t mean he would take delight in spanking her bottom though; he never enjoyed the punishments he had to give her. Those were just part of the dynamic that was necessary and required. But what he did enjoy was playing with her. How many nights in this room were spent trying out each piece of equipment and pushing her limits, restraining her spirit and mouthiness? But at the same time, he loved her sass and mouthiness though. He never thought he would ever say that. In the clubs, he avoided women like that like the plague. But when Avery fell into his lap and his house, he learned that there were benefits to a sassy woman — he had even more reason to paddle her ass than with a compliant submissive.
He slid his hand down her ass and let his finger glide into her sex. “God, I’ve been dying to bury myself into this little hot, red ass. Following you to the playpen, as you call it, I almost tackled you and fucked you in the wet grass. Oh, I see you like that idea — you’re clenching on my fingers. I’ll remember that for the future. Note to self: Avery likes a good tackling and ass fucking in the dewy grass. Yes, that’s going on the honey-do list for sure.”
Preston moved her hair aside and put her collar on. “Pick your head up sweetie and let me hear your bell. Christ, I love hearing that damn bell on you.”
Avery smiled sweetly at him and shook her head for him. He knew she enjoyed watching his pleasure. He had heard that women received pleasure in their men’s arousal, but he hadn’t personally seen it — until now. It made him puff up like a rooster. It delighted him that she got off on his excitement. “Thank you, sweetie. Change of plans. I want you to crawl over to your crate and lay prostrate over the top. I think I’m going to fuck you over your crate, so when you do take your nap, you’ll remember what just occurred over your head.”
She hesitated, looking like she was going defy him once again, but then her lips quirked into a smile and she quickly crawled over to her crate. Preston undid his pants, pulling his cock out as he took up position behind her. Avery still smiled at him, obviously enjoying his need to tackle her.
“This isn’t going to be slow and romantic, sweetie. I hope you’re as aroused as I am. I plan on taking you fast and hard, putting you to bed wet with a beautiful tail in your ass.”
“I was hoping you would say that. I’m ready when you are, Sir.”
That was all the permission Preston needed. He thrust into her wet, warm pussy with one thrust, feeling the warmth of her stripes against his balls and groin. “Jesus! Your ass is so hot!”
“It hurts too, Sir.”
“Is that a compliment to the disciplinarian, or an insult?” Preston chuckled above her as he thrust, cool air wafting over his swinging balls, making them tingle. The smell of her pussy filled the playpen and he took a deep breath, savoring it.
“Oh, God. Are you… sniffing my pussy?”
“Yes. There isn’t anything better as far as I’m concerned. I love the smell of you.” He pounded her even harder then, holding her hips in both hands so tightly, he was sure there’d be bruises in the morning.
Avery was groaning with each thrust, her pussy clenching and squeezing his cock so hard it made Preston bite his lip. She was so fucking hot and tight it felt like a vice. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, arching her back and making her ass rise even higher into his thrusting. He stared at her striped ass. That was his creation tonight. He created the color and shading across that ass — a work of art. Again, he didn’t like punishing her. But it was like an artist creating a painting. He had an appreciation for his work. How well he spaced the razor strop stripes, how he didn’t overlap even one. There were no bruises, but there were broken vessels here and there — those would be sore in the morning. He regretted that she would be sore and yet, he knew it was the right thing to do. Seeing her behind striped and red gave him a sense of having done a job well. He was required to train her, keep her safe, watch for her health. But when she defied him, it was also his responsibility to ensure she wouldn’t do it again. So, looking down at that sore bottom as he thrust still harder, he knew he’d done his job — and he’d done it well.
He reached around and started stroking her clit with insistent circles, ramping up her arousal until she started shouting, “Preston! Oh God. Oh God!”
“Good Girl, Avery. You aren’t giving me orders! Come for me, sweetheart!” Preston pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger, groaning with his own release as she came, screaming in ecstasy. He continued to pound into her pussy, milking every last bit of semen out of his cock. He released her hair, and she collapsed to the top of the crate with breathless moans. Preston pulled is still erect cock out of her, and filled her anus with her plug and tail. He took hold of the white tail and softly rubbed it over her ass, using it to wipe both her pussy and his cock. “Your tail has the scent of both of us now. It should help you sleep comfortably this evening.”
He slapped her ass, making her cry out. “Get up, girlie. Time for the bad kitty to take a cat nap.”
He chuckled, pleased with himself as he put her in her crate for a nap.
* * *
Avery woke up drenched in sweat — her heated pillow must have been up too high. She leaned over to lower the level, when she heard voices. Men’s voices. Preston for sure. But
who was the other one? She tried to see, pressing herself up against the bars in an attempt to peer into the sitting area of the playroom. Nothing. She turned her lights up, hoping Preston would see it and come to get her.
“She’s actually done very well. It’s taken some stern discipline, and very firm boundaries, but she’s responded well. I can’t thank you enough for sending her my way. She’s become one of the most important things in my life.” Preston’s voice was low, a respectful note in the tone.
Who was he talking to?
“I’m glad.” It was a different voice this time. “The Judge had said she was a good girl. That she’d always been compliant and obedient as a child. She only became rebellious later, looking for guidance and boundaries as she got older. We both thought your strictness might come in handy with her. No pun intended.” The man’s chuckle was warm, infectious —the type of laugh that made you want to laugh along with him. His voice was familiar – and it was apparently someone who knew her father too.
“I think she’s up,” Preston said. “I just saw her lights brighten and heard the door rattle.”
Oh, Shit!! I don’t want him coming to get me — I’m naked. He knows I’m naked!
Preston came into view, squatting in front of the crate. “Hey baby, how are you? Did you sleep well, sweetie?”
“Yes.” She hated how little she sounded, her voice barely a whisper.
“How’s your bottom, Kitten? Come on out and let me see.” He opened the door and reached in, snapping her leash on and tugging gently.
“N-no, Sir. Please.” She cringed when his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips compressing to a thin line. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t have any clothes on and there’s a… man here.”
Preston’s face lightened and he threw his head back, laughing. “Sweetie, you don’t have to worry about that. The man that’s here has his own Kitty at home and he’s been mentoring me for years. He knows all about bad little kitten’s getting their bottoms spanked. He taught me everything I know. Besides, you’ve met him before.” His expression sobered. “Now, I’m not going to ask again. You come out of there right now or I’ll come and get you. And I’m thinking that as sore as your little tush is today, you don’t want another paddling? Right?”
Avery wasn’t sure. She actually contemplated getting a paddling versus coming out and letting that man see her naked with a tail and a leash. But Preston looked deadly serious and she had seen enough of serious Preston today to know that she needed to get out of that crate as fast as she could.
She crawls out, quickly looking across the room, seeing the other man looking upon her. It was Judge Morton. He was dressed in black dress pants and white dress shirt, and was making his way toward her, with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He winked her way with a friendly smile. She immediately tried to crawl back into the crate. Both men laughed softly, fond amusement in their tones. The sound of their laughter made her move even faster as she tried skirting around Preston’s legs to get back into the crate. But Preston grabbed her by the waist and pulled her leash taut.
“Nuh-uh, bad girl, you’re staying out here. Stay!”
At the tone of the command, Avery stopped, not moving a muscle. Her pussy clenched as his hand stroked her bottom. “Poor baby. Your bottom looks so sore, sweetie. I hate that you made me punish you like this. Poor little kitty. Judge, do you think I need to add some healing cream to this?”
Avery dropped her forehead to the floor, dying of embarrassment. As if it weren’t bad enough to have been lashed with a razor strop, then put into a collar, a tail inserted into her bottom before being sent to bed in a crate. Now she had to suffer the humiliation of have the Judge — Judge Morton — come to inspect her bottom.
Avery turned her head, looking toward the Judge. He sauntered over slowly, with a lazy grin. He knew she was humiliated and he appeared to be enjoying it. Did they all enjoy watching her humiliation?
Judge Morton bent over her, inspecting her bottom. “It does look pretty sore. May I?”
Preston gave him a nod, grinning.
“Sweetie,” Judge Morton said. “When I press on these spots, do they hurt or do they feel numb?”
Avery hesitated just long enough in answering that Preston swatted her bottom, hard, making her yelp. “Answer the Judge when he asks you a question. He should not have to wait for an answer from a disobedient kitten.”
“She’s embarrassed, Preston, I understand that. It’s okay.”
“Excuse me for pointing it out, Sir,” Preston said, “But would you let Nancy hesitate when answering a question from me?”
“Point well-taken, Preston. No, I wouldn’t. She would be punished immediately. I apologize. You chastise your kitten as you see fit. I’ll support you.” The Judge met her gaze. “I’ll ask again. Avery Rose. When I press on these spots, do they hurt or do they feel numb?”
“They feel a little numb, Sir.”
“I’d put some witch hazel ointment on her bottom. It soothes the pain and will help the skin heal.” Judge Morton slapped her haunches like one would a horse. “She’ll be good in no time. But the pain will definitely be with her tomorrow.”
“Speaking of which,” Preston said, nodding at her. “Avery Rose, please turn around and present yourself to Judge Morton.”
Avery groaned her mortification, but moved quickly. She knelt as she had been trained, pushing her breasts out, her hands up by her shoulders, looking like a begging kitten up on its back legs.
“Very pretty, Miss Avery,” Judge Morton said, stroking her hair softly. “You’ve done very well with her, Preston. Very well.”
Despite Avery’s embarrassment, pride swelled within her. Preston would be pleased and it made her happy to know he would feel proud of her behavior.
“Thank you, Sir. Avery, I want you to tell the Judge what you did today, and how you were punished. Then I want you to ask him for his forgiveness.”
Avery felt her blood boil. She opened her mouth to spout off a sassy reply, but then swallowed it. She was wrong. She had broken the law and she needed to ask for forgiveness. She could go to jail. Preston and Judge Morton were doing her a favor, and she needed to be appreciative of that fact. She looked up at Preston, who watched her closely, his head tilted. He was watching her like one would watch a firecracker on the ground, wondering if it was just lying there or if it was a live one that could explode.
She smiled at Preston, then turned to the Judge. “I goofed up really bad today, Judge. I was tired of being cooped up in the house all the time, so I took Preston’s keys and drove myself to town. Alone.” Avery paused, gauging his reaction.
Judge Morton nodded and winked at Preston.
“I then went to the diner in town and had a BLT for lunch and then went to McCarthy’s Pub for a couple beers. But I made sure to only have one beer an hour and I waited two hours after my last one. So, I wasn’t driving under the influence. When I got home, Preston was waiting for me and I received the razor strop in the woodshed.” Avery started to cry, a tear tracking down her cheek. “I’m really sorry, Judge Morton. I hope you can forgive me. I’ve been trying so hard since I’ve been here, and I disobeyed. I’m sorry.”
Avery dropped her head, staring at the carpet.
“You’re completely forgiven, Miss Avery. By the looks of that sore bottom, you’ve paid the piper — and then some. Preston has been very attentive with you. I see tremendous change, and I’m pretty sure your father will be as pleased as I am with your transformation.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’m hoping my father is pleased, but I’m more interested in what Preston thinks of my behavior. He’s what matters most.” Avery turned to look at Preston, grabbing his hand and kissing it.
Preston reached out, caressing her breast, testing the weight of it cupped in his palm. He bent low and kissed her forehead. “You please me more and more every day, Avery Rose.”
Chapter 15
Preston pulled up the driveway, amazed at the transfor
mation of not only his house, but his life, and most of all, his Avery. The Christmas lights on the porch gave a warm glow and made him feel… domestic. He loved coming home to a warm, soft — and preferably naked —woman in his house. Loved the smell of homemade food cooking in his kitchen. Loved that she had learned submission so beautifully, that she knelt many nights at the door waiting for him.
Christmas was only a week away and Avery’s sentence would be done in two weeks. The time had gone by so fast and yet, when he thought about it, it seemed as if she’d always been there, always been his. How had it only been six months? There were many days where he thought he wouldn’t last six months, that she would wear him down and he’d give up. But she’d been worth the effort. His consistent discipline, boundaries, rules and punishment had transformed the sassy, irresponsible brat into a reserved, responsible submissive that he would be proud to have on his arm at any function or BDSM club.
He couldn’t imagine not having her in his life every day, and he refused to allow it to happen. He wasn’t about to let her go now. She would be his by Christmas — he would make sure of it. He stepped up the front steps, the Christmas lights from the roof of the porch giving it a warm, holiday feel.
Entering the house, the smell of a spaghetti sauce greeted him, the aroma of garlic making him sigh. Avery wasn’t at the door naked though, and he tried to tamp down his disappointment.
Guess she can’t be naked at the door every night — dammit.
“Hey, Kitten, how are you?”
He wrapped his arms around her, turning her around and giving her a slow, languid kiss, their tongues dancing. The little imp snatched his tongue and sucked on it, hard. His cock immediately hardened, unable to hold back his groan as he swatted her bottom. “We’ll have none of that. Not when there is spaghetti to be eaten. I have my priorities.”
Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1) Page 18
