Chapter Fourteen
Blythe stood with Brinley in Xan’s den, both women were naked standing side by side, with Rowth resting his ass on the front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and Blythe had to admit that the man looked formidable. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, and the scowl on his face and clenching of his jaw didn’t seem to bode well for either of them.
The heavy footfalls of her Master sounded down the long marble hallway, coming closer to the heavy wooden door, the brass handle tilted up and Xan’s dark countenance marched into the den, the two hulking aliens made the room feel uncomfortably small.
Behind him were Ganza and Billex, both of his employees glared at Blythe, and she clenched her asshole in fear.
“Well, here’s your nanny and Billex, this time you at least left him alone. But Ganza has an impressive mark on her neck from your carelessness while injecting her. Show the incorrigible brat what she’s done, Ganza.”
“Gladly, Sir.” The heavy woman trotted over to her, invading her personal space (on purpose she no doubt) and turned her neck for Blythe to survey. Once she felt Blythe had observed it, her nanny snatched a handful of charge’s long red hair and fisted it—harshly. “That makes a second time you’ve done this to me, but trust me, girl, you won’t do it again. I’ve been permitted to punish you after your Master has blistered your backside, and I’ll be creative with what I mete out to you. Turn around and grab your ankles.”
Blythe’s eyes skittered toward Xan. She wasn’t sure if she was looking for permission or pity, but she’d been trained to seek his approval for all things, and even in this she looked to him first.
“I know you aren’t looking for me to intervene. You better mind her, pet.” He spun his finger in a circle for her to turn around.
Glancing toward Brinley, she found the pity in her friend’s eyes that she sought, but was smart enough to quickly move before either one of their charges took action. Bending over, she gasped her ankles tightly closing her eyes and mentally preparing for what she knew would either be humiliating or painful—or both.
The woman’s meaty hand slapped against her backside, the force making Blythe rise onto her toes struggling to keep her balance. Then a sticky, lubed finger pushed into her anus. Ganza addressed her friend. “Brinley, this is what happens to bad girls in our house. They get punished on their bottoms, but they also get a punishment to their little holes—either with a tail, my finger, or an enema.”
Ganza twisted her finger in the tight pucker, and Blythe tried desperately not to cry out, but she moaned, the burning pain overwhelming and the embarrassment in front of Brinley more than she could stand.
The woman’s deep voice continued talking to Brinley. “And you see when she’s particularly bad she gets an enema…or two. Have you been punished that way, Brinley?”
Her friend cleared her throat. “No.”
“Address me correctly, girl.”
“No, ma’am.”
Rowth’s deep voice rumbled, “I may need to contemplate adding a nanny to my household…this could be very helpful.”
“I find it takes some of the burdens from me, and it’s good for them to know they’re supervised at all times and under the heavy hand of another as well.” A hint of mirth could be heard in Xan’s voice, and it galled Blythe to no end. He knew she hated the idea of a nanny.
“I bet,” Rowth agreed.
“You’ve pushed me too far, Blythe, you’ll be paying with your bottomhole this week, don’t doubt it for a minute.” The woman smacked her ass several more times, the whole of her rump burning.
“Yes, m-ma’am.” Over the course of several months, Blythe had learned to tolerate the pain of a spanking pretty well, and although her eyes threatened tears, she’d been able to hold them back with this small reminder.
“Stay where you are.” Xan’s voice grumbled near her.
Oh God. What is he doing?
“You see, Rowth, this tail, and collar were purchased at the same time and operate from the same controller. So, when my bad kitty misbehaves, she is zapped simultaneously on her neck and her little bottomhole. There are three settings. The first two have her jumping and shouting in pain, but the third one? Oh, the third one is grimly severe and ends with her losing control of her bladder and wetting herself, which mortifies her as well the humiliation of evacuating publicly against her will.” The large, lubed plug pressed into her little hole. “Push back, pet.”
She opened herself, blushing with the knowledge that Rowth witnessed her sphincter muscle spreading into an “O” for the plug willingly. “This tail brushes against her thighs when she crawls. I keep her on her hands and knees, and I’ve taken to adding nipple clamp wind chimes along with the bell so all of us can hear where she is in the house. She is not allowed to stand or feed herself, and she must heel at all times. If she deviates from any of the rules that apply to her pet status, she is spanked with the leash or a crop that I keep handy for these situations. She has a crate and a pet bed that she sleeps in…our bed is only for good girls and pets. Isn’t that right, bad kitty?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her voice broke on the last word. She loved him. Loved calling him Daddy. Disappointing him, hurt her probably more than it did him, her only goal was to please him.
“Daddy?” Rowth’s voice lilted up into a question.
“Yeah, she calls me that now. I like it.” Xan had a hint of sheepishness in his response. “Since we started expecting Tegan, she’s been referring to me in my new title of Daddy.”
“I’ll try to not tease the fucking piss out of you.”
“Thanks, asshole. I appreciate it.”
Rowth nodded mischievously. “No problem. So how often do you keep her as a pet? Is it only for punishment?”
“You can kneel up and face us, girl.”
Blythe pivoted on her knees and only briefly made eye contact with the stern dark-haired man still leaning on Xan’s desk before dropping her gaze to her Master’s shoes in front of her.
“I love having her as a good kitty. I feed her, cuddle with her, and take her outside for walks. We enjoy this aspect of our relationship. But when she’s bad, she experiences first-hand the plight of being a naughty pet — no speaking, no walking, no feeding herself, harsh discipline, and even urinating outside. Believe me when I say that she works very hard to be a treasured kitten versus a bad kitty.”
Rowth stared pensively at Blythe, and she shifted uncomfortably at the intensity of his gaze. “I may need to try this on my own.”
“There’s no wrong way to do this—whatever you’re comfortable with, Sir. If you don’t mind me saying it, I have a brand-new tail and collar that have never been used if you’d like to try it now.”
Brinley gasped. “Don’t even tell me that you’re thinking about this.”
“You’ll be quiet.” Rowth fluidly rose from the desk, his long legs bringing him quickly to Brinley’s side. He wagged his index finger at her. “This is not your decision.” Without taking his eyes away from Brinley, he said, “Yes, Xan, please bring us the toys… I’m anxious to see my girl dropped a peg or two.”