Page 159 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 2

“Yes, Sir. I’m so—”

“I specifically told you not to. Didn’t I?”

“Yes, Sir. I—“

“I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed it.”

I want to hang my head, want to look anywhere but in your eyes right now but you won’t let me. You look at me for far longer than is comfortable; letting me see your disappointment, letting your words sink in. “I know you tried your best. I do know, and that does please me, but the fact is that you disobeyed me. Now what do you think I’m going to do about that?”

My face is aflame with humiliation and shame, and I wish I could look away from the accusing expression in your eyes. “Sir, I’m so—“

You hold up a finger right in front of my face. “Abby. I asked you a question. What do you think I’m going to do about it?”

My voice is barely a whisper. “I… You’re going to punish me, Sir.”

“Yes, I am.”

You pause again, letting the weight of that hang in the air.

“When I’m good and ready, Abby. When you’ve had time to think about what you’ve done. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Now, if you’d just hung on for five more minutes, you would have made it. You were almost there. Did you know that?”

“No, Sir.”

“Next time, and there will be a next time, I expect you to obey me. You will learn, Abby.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“There will be a parcel arriving for me in a day or two. You will find out what is inside when I punish you. You will not open the box. You will not even go so far as to touch the outside of the box because, if you do, you will be in more trouble than you ever have been in your entire life. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good girl. Now, go and clean the kitchen chair. With your tongue!”

Chapter Two

Bad Girl

Just another ordinary night at home; me reading and you watching something on TV. You turn the television off and put your arm around me. I smile and snuggle close, pressing the full length of my body against yours. An unremarkable evening. Until it isn’t.

You thread your fingers through my hair and force my head back, making me look at you. That switch has been thrown, that moment arrives again. We could be mistaken for any vanilla couple, until that moment when you take control, when I know from the determined expression in your eyes that I’d better do as you say, or else.

My stomach tightens with excitement and a slight twist of fear as I take in how serious you look. You haven’t yet told me what my punishment will be for coming without your permission the other day and I tense as I wonder if this will be it.

You give me only a few seconds to register that you mean business, and then you stand and push me off the sofa onto all fours, still with your hand in my hair.

"Crawl," you say, half dragging me by the hair, deliberately going too fast so I have to scurry on my knees to keep up.

You come to an abrupt halt in the centre of the room and release my hair.

"Get up and strip."

I scramble to my feet, heart racing. I want to look at you, but I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, scared of what I might see in your eyes. I hurriedly undress, a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me that this will be punishment, not pleasure.

As the last of my clothes pool at my feet, you grab my hair again and force me down. "On your knees."

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