T is for Training Day

He woke up to something hitting his chest. “What the…” He looked down and saw his cuffs and collar both on and next to him where they had fallen.

She was standing over him in yoga pants and a well-fitting tee. “It’s time for a day of training for you. And you are behind. I’ve been up for over an hour.”

He got out of bed and reached for his sweatpants. “No. You will not need clothes today. Come here and I’ll put on your attire.”

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She reached across the bed and grabbed the collar. “Kneel.”

Completely beyond his control, he was suddenly rock hard. He knelt at her feet while she fit the collar around his neck and buckled it snugly. She then grabbed the wrist cuffs and attached them. She pulled them behind his back and clipped them together.

“Stand up.”

Awkwardly he stood. “Over here so I can inspect you.” He stood where she indicated.

She walked around him slowly, poking here and there. “You really have let the grooming go… make sure you take care of that in the shower.”

He nodded. She looked at him with an arched eyebrow. Waited. He started to get nervous with her staring at him and fidgeted. She continued to wait.

“Would you like to respond properly to me?” she finally asked.

He turned bright red and said quickly, “Yes, ma’am. I will take care of it. I’m sorry for not taking care of it sooner.”

She nodded and turned to grab the crop that was at the bottom of the bed. “Turn around.”

His breath caught a bit, but he quickly complied. “Count for me.”

She proceeded to smack his ass. “1..2…3…” and finally finished with “48…49…50” His ass was on fire–these were not playful at all.

She put down the crop. “It looks like I decided to do boot camp right in time. You definitely need some reminders on the rules of the house.”

Wicked Wednesday

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