Chapter Five
“You stay here.” Xan left Blythe standing in the middle of the kitchen—naked—wearing only her tail and collar. Her belly trembled, the uncertainty of what would happen next had her nervous.
“Agnes, will you fetch my pet’s box.”
“Yes, Sir.” The cook furrowed her eyebrows at Blythe and quickly darted out of the room to retrieve it.
“Ohhhhhh.” Blythe barely whispered her moan. She’d only been punished this way once before and definitely had hoped to avoid it in the future. Obviously, she’d failed miserably.
“Silence. You won’t roll your eyes again, girl.” He wagged his long finger toward her.
Agnes scurried into the room holding a box about one foot by two foot in dimensions, handing it over to Blythe’s Master.
Ganza and Billex were present, so there would be a full room to witness her degradation.
He plopped the box near her, and she looked down at the pebbled grains filling it to about half full. “Turn around. Face the box.”
Thank God.
She pivoted.
“Straddle it.” He held her leash in his hands, the looped strap in one and the chain in the other ready to slap the doubled leather onto her bottom or thighs with any infraction.
She straddled the box, keenly aware of everyone staring at her bottom and fluffy tail.
“Tell everyone why you’re being punished.” Xan’s lips were thinned as his nostrils flared with his anger.
She knew better. Knew how he hated the disrespect of rolling her eyes or shaking her head when he spoke or gave an order. She’d begun to wonder if she’d ever learn to control her mouth—or her eyes. She couldn’t seem to resist the immediate reaction to a statement he made that she knew was silly or redundant. And this was the penalty for her independent, sassy demeanor.
“I rolled my eyes at you when you warned me to be careful when rubbing Tegan’s delicate skin. But…but I knew that already.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you knew or not, pet. What matters is your level of respect and submission, yes?” He raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for an answer.
“Yes. But—”
“Zip it.” He placed his large finger over her lips. “Squat and piss.”
She moaned loudly but quickly obeyed to avoid the snap of the leash. The thought of her fat ass spreading wide over the box had her cringing internally.
“It’s embarrassing, right, pet?”
“Yes, Master.” She choked on a sob, grabbing her long white tail, holding it out of the way. She closed her eyes willing herself to urinate as quickly as possible. In the past few months, she’d become almost expert at overcoming her performance anxiety.
“If you don’t pee soon, I will force it.” He rubbed the leash along her backside.
She shivered, but his voice interrupted the process, and now she would have to struggle even further to finish her business. Her bladder released and within seconds, the hiss of her urine being released into the box could be heard in the quiet kitchen.
“That’s an obedient, pet. Tell us again why you’re evacuating in your litter box, bad girl.”
Blythe hated when he called her a bad girl. The tears flowed down her cheek and dripped into her litter, mixing with the last drops of her urine. “Because I disrespected you by rolling my eyes.”
“Indeed. And it won’t happen again.” The strap lashed against her backside, catching her off guard so that she stumbled forward a bit. Her hands kept her in position, but her tail was in the line of fire.
“Tail.” His voice boomed the word.
Quickly.
Still squatting, the whacks were dealt quickly, each one feeling like a line of fire.
“Those stripes will remind you to watch your mouth and facial expressions—again.” The leash stilled, and he snapped the clasp into her collar.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Ganza, will you wipe her clean, give her lunch, and then put her down for a nap. I’ll be at work until dinner. I expect her rested and ready when I return.” He squatted in front of her and promptly tilted her chin up and sternly growled. “You’ll behave, or else. Clear?”
“Yes, Master.” She swiped at the tears on her left cheek.
“Leave them. They’re beautiful.”
“Kiss me, please.” She ventured into unsure waters. He liked—needed—to be in control, and asking or demanding something wasn’t acceptable. She hoped she’d kept her tone and attitude humble enough to be given grace.
“Anytime, pet.” He gave her lips a couple of small pecks, pulling away enough to stare into her eyes. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away another stray tear tracking down her cheek before capturing her mouth and letting his tongue delve in, teasing and rubbing against the sensitive roof, toying with her tongue.
Her hips thrust in reaction, eliciting a chuckle that rumbled into her mouth. “We’ll take care of that later. And don’t get too used to giving me orders; I may not be as agreeable the next time.” He abruptly rose to his full height, and his shiny black dress shoes moved out of view.
Blythe remained hunched over her litter box, her cunt still damp with her urine and obscenely exposed with her anus visible, as well as the rest of her, to the staff.
A damp cloth brusquely wiped her pussy, rubbing on each buttock, further irritating the spanked flesh.
“Up, girl. Sit at the table and we’ll get your lunch.” Ganza clucked, shaking her head while Agnes filled a bowl with what Blythe affectionately called gruel, a mixture of some sort of dirt grown vegetables, if that’s what you’d call them, with a gravy-like substance. The staff knew to add eegle, a fruity jam-like substance that sweetened up the food enough that she didn’t gag. Xan had ordered everyone to put it in all of Blythe’s food; it made everything palatable.
Her nanny slammed the bowl of gruel in front of her, ranting, “I’ve trained you better than this. Master has trained you better than this. You’re lucky he didn’t whip your little ass.”
Agnes shook her wooden spoon in Blythe’s direction. “And she would have been lucky and thankful if a whipping was all she received. I know me Master years ago would have skinned me alive. He’s more gracious to you than you deserve,” Agnes pointed out before going back to stirring her pot of…whatever it was.
“Indeed, Agnes. My Master too. You live in this gorgeous house with a nanny, butler, cook, and a man who adores you and has given you a beautiful little girl to boot. And you have the audacity to roll your eyes at him when he cautions you on your half Pra’kir and half alien baby?” She tsked loudly, huffing in exasperation, and sat in the chair next to Blythe.
“My little girl is half alien and half human!” She grit her teeth in anger; they would not forget that they were human, not as long as she was alive and had breath in her body.
“Girl, you’ll watch your tone with us or pay with your ass. Are you looking for more punishment on this day?”
“N-no, ma’am. But Tegan is half human, not alien.”
The old woman nodded her head slowly. “Okay, I understand being defensive of yer girl. We’ll come to an agreement. She’s half Pra’kir and half human. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good; finish your meal. We’ll get your naughty bottom to bed for a nap. Apparently you need it more than any of us realized.
Blythe shoved a spoonful of food into her mouth, not wanting to make any facial expression to give herself away. The excitement was almost more than she could handle. After all these months, she’d finally be talking to Brinley.