Leashed – An Alien Pet Romance Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alien, BDSM, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
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Arkan

This wayward brat of a human is finally learning a long-overdue lesson. Her cheeks are nicely marked, but not so much that she cannot take more. I will return to punishing them again, but first I want to address the use of her teeth more directly. She has no shame or reluctance whatsoever when it comes to biting, and that is going to stop today.

I grasp my writhing little ballerina and pull her up to her feet. She might think this means her punishment is over. She would be wrong. She’s far from the first human to bite me, and I have developed ways and means of dealing with that tendency. The most effective is to introduce an unpleasant object to her mouth while her bottom is still hot and stinging.

I keep a small supply of bite inhibitors on the shelves next to my desk. It is not difficult to take one of them and bring it to her nose.

“This is a bar of saponified fats,” I tell her, keeping a firm grip on the back of her neck. My scaled hand nearly completely encircles her throat. When this is done, she will wear my collar and she will experience a level of obedience and submission that she cannot begin to imagine right now. For the moment, she squirms and wriggles in my grasp, not so much trying to escape as merely reacting to the sensations flooding her punished flesh.

“Looks like soap…”

With those fateful words, she opens her mouth wide enough for me to slip the bar inside.

Her reaction is one of immediate disgust and of course to attempt to escape the unpleasant but harmless taste. As much as she wriggles, I keep the pressure on, ensuring that the foaming soap covers her tongue and fills her mouth with a taste that will not soon be forgotten.

When it comes to biting, the habit must be stopped abruptly and immediately the moment it happens. There can be no mercy, no quiet talks, and no gentle handling.

I hold the soap in her mouth, and I lecture her sternly. “You do not bite. Not anybody. Not ever. Not me. Not anyone else. Do you understand?”

There are bubbles emerging from her mouth as she swiftly nods, giving up all pretense of fight as she chooses obedience over soap. It is good to know that she is capable of giving to pressure. I was starting to think she might be one of the rare breeds of human with no capacity for regard for consequences. Some people can be punished past the point of all sense and still have absolutely no tendency to change their behavior.

This is not my pet’s problem. She is simply stubborn and spoiled and has never met a consequence until this moment.

The expression in her big brown eyes is exquisite. Truly beautiful. Tears are gathering in a misty haze, making her eyes bright. She is holding back those tears, but only just. I can see other emotions too, confusion, and perhaps even gratitude. There must be some small part of her that is relieved to have finally met someone who will not allow her to act as she pleases all the time.

Finally, I pull the soap from her mouth and point to a corner of my office where the desk meets the bare wall before guiding her to the spot where I want her to be. She takes the few steps I want and then stands quite still. The seat of her bodysuit is still lowered, revealing her bright red cheeks. I take a moment to place her hands on her head, palms down, one over the other.

“Stand there and stay,” I order.

To her credit, or perhaps to the credit of shock and awe, she does stay there for a good minute or two, completely still, her shoulders shaking just a little with the sobs she refuses to let out.

I sit back on my chair and watch her, this brief moment of almost serene obedience. I know what she is like. I know she is chaotic and rebellious, and I know that this punishment will wear off and she will return to that state. But something will have been learned in between. The next time her jaws begin to part with the intention of biting, she will still them for at least a moment. Hesitation will become part of her experience of disobedience rather than unconsidered impulsive action.

After a short time, she begins to squirm. It is inevitable. She is uncomfortable and emotional. Her body is awash with chemical impulses and old thought patterns vying for control in this new situation. I hear slight vocalizations emerging from her. She wants to speak disrespectfully. She wants to yell and curse and throw her relatively diminutive weight around.

She does none of it, and once another few short seconds pass, I retrieve her from the corner. I do not want to push her past the point of her limited capacity for obedience. I want to keep her right there and give her relief at the moment she was most submissive.


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