Locking A Puppy's Cuffs To Its Collar So It Can't Do Anything With Its Useless Puppy Paws Up In The Air

Ownership - Part I - The Clinic - The Strict Protocol Continues

The Strict Protocol Continues

Kelly finds herself marking a calendar, the timing of her visits most consequential. Never more often then every third day, the lengthy interval assuring that her charge Chestnuts is eager for cleansing and bathing. On occasion the suffering is extended… four days… and on one occasion a fifth day when she found herself traveling over a holiday weekend.

Imbued with unsurpassed power, she finds herself becoming giddy by the morning of the appointed day, a young girl desiring to cuddle her puppy.

Chestnuts is equally excited by her visits of course, his psyche anointing ‘Miss Kelly’ with plenipotentiary governance. She is everything… the source of all he needs. But of course not of all he wants. Denial… always denial of that which a virile young male most wants… most desires. And it pleases Kelly to deny him.

Instead there is tongue work. Chestnuts’ long wet appendage, surgically freed of the restricting frenulum, now thrusts forth with vigor in scooping the bland sustenance from an offered spoon. Miss Kelly is known to playfully dab the tip of the nose and, in encouraging with girlish giggles, has the prodigious length of pink curl upwards to swath, not only eagerly finding nourishment but pleasing with the display… the oral nimbleness of a barnyard animal.  

Kelly is also given to firmly grasp the tongue, ending each visit with many minutes of tugging, twisting and turning, imbuing continuing length, assuring strength and stamina.

Chestnuts is rewarded for his cooperation… more vaginal froth… Miss Kelly’s quim brimming with evidence of her delight… her ownership well implanted.

Still, yet there remains evidence of male aggression… almost every visit ending with a plea for manual release, Chestnuts’ penis standing most robustly after many weeks of chastity. Yes, the meek words come as Miss Kelly approaches with ice, the unwavering tumescence to succumb to a woman’s desire to return her boy to diapers.

‘Won’t you please stroke me first, Miss Kelly?’

The quest is ignored of course. But as the visits progress, ending such pleasant interludes of feminine power with notions of a soothing hand offering such crass male satiation disturbs.

In exiting the Clinic on one Saturday afternoon, Chestnuts well restrained and returned to his diaper, Kelly engaged the desk nurse in small talk, broaching the subject of ‘hand jobs for the helpless’, as Kelly humorously considers the constant quest.

“You should review the Guidebook,” the nurse suggests. “The Recalcitrance and Discipline chapter has some ideas. And I note on the chart that your boy is uncircumcised. Be sure to read the segment on infibulation as well.”

Kelly thanks the nurse, realizing she did not before delve that far into the Guidebook.

So it’s a Saturday night. Arriving home, a bottle of Chardonnay awaits. After a hot shower, Kelly calms herself after a long afternoon of feminine governance and concupiscence. The Guidebook awaits. She sits, sips and flips open.

Recalcitrance and Discipline, the final segment. Turning the pages she is surprised to find a chapter on masturbating the male, a shocking subject matter for an institution dedicated to male chastity.

‘During times of release… for cleansing or simple amusement… the chaste male will find himself erect and powerless to refrain from beseeching for sexual release. Think of the process as a young male dog in heat, assaulting Master’s leg with his privates in a most inappropriate manner. This annoyance can be curtailed very simply by indeed condescending and offering manual release… but in a very controlling and ultimately disciplining manner.

‘Clients will find each training room equipped with a slim glass tube and a supply of rock salt. It is a simple matter to introduce a few grams of salt into the tube, slip into the urethra of the erect male, and deposit sodium chloride well into the penis shaft by pressing a complementary rod as the tube is withdrawn. As the salt melts, aggravating the most sensitive of male flesh, the beseeched hand should stroke. There will follow a rather convincing combination of pleasure as denied penile skin is stroked and pain as the salt melts to irritate the urethra. Within minutes the pain pleasure will overwhelm. Subsequent ejaculation will slide the introduced salt further down the urethra, enhancing the pain as the release of ejaculate presses, and ultimately transforming what is normally the pinnacle of male ecstasy into an agonizing encounter with the determination of the female hand.’

In thought, Kelly pauses and sips… with a smile. Transforming male pleasure into pain! How devious… yet ingenious! Chestnuts will become quite reluctant to request manual release after such a daunting hand job. One can only imagine the distress in introducing salt, ironically so harmless, into the vaunted male organ.  

The Guidebook is pushed aside. Delirious thoughts of disciplining her charge in such an ignominious manner brings the need for her vibrator.  

I want to mold and shaped you the way I feel is right through my aspect of domination😈💍❤️

Look, I don’t want my sub to mechanically stick to a bunch of rules like a robot. I want them to be their authentic self. Of course I want them to obey me, but that doesn’t mean they’re not allowed to be real and express however they’re feeling today. I’m not gonna make them follow orders like a soldier. If they feel sad and anxious, I’ll let them be clingy and allow them to hide from the world behind me. If they’re having a bad day and feel whiny I’ll let them be whiny and make their favourite food and give all the forehead kisses. If they feel bratty and need punishment, I’ll spank them. If they’re giddy, I’ll tickle them until they gasp for air with tears running down their face from laughing. If they feel like crying, I’ll let them be a crybaby in my lap until they feel better. It doesn’t need to be planned. I don’t need to force anything. They just are submissive and trust me with being able to live it out with me however they need it. They’re not holding onto a set of rules with me, they get to let it all go and just be how they wanna be. With me they are free.

You do not need to look so silly now! Enough with your bitching here, we want to have a nice relaxed garden party. You can now stand next to the garden door for half an hour, with your hands behind your head and your nose against the wall.