Her Humiliation

“Hurry up,” I jeered, smacking Corey’s naked ass sharply as she struggled to haul her husband's guitar amplifier across the gravel driveway. “My shower awaits me.”

Corey, my usually domineering, pain-in-my-ass landlord, had just confided in me a secret: she longed to be dominated. Not all of the time, but whenever she reached a major life milestone. And preferably by an older, unattractive man. Corey was promoted at her law firm and desperate for an intense BDSM encounter. She took a chance and turned to me.

“I want to be treated like a sexual slut-puppy,” she told me in her kitchen just minutes before. “I want the harsh handling of a dominant male,” were her exact words.

I was happy to oblige her—I’m not only experienced as a Dom, but with how she treats me, I’m eager to teach her a lesson.

Corey spoke down to me, treated me like the help, and dismissed my opinions. I had no choice but to endure it; I needed this cheap apartment and her reference to secure custody of my son.

As a Dom/sub couple, though, our chemistry was immediately electric.

I relished executing her first degrading punishment: hauling this heavy, awkward guitar amp from her luxury home to my dingy garage apartment—without the dignity of clothes.

Corey is a mad fit, but her breath was labored. I admired how her muscles flexed and strained as she maneuvered the amp.

It felt good. It felt right. It felt just.

She shot me a sneer over her shoulder in response to the unnecessary smack on her ass. 

Despite the circumstances, I was uncomfortable. Watching a submissive obey humiliating orders is one of life’s great joys. It gets me as hard as a steel pipe. My erection strained and pressed against my pants. My dick felt like an overinflated balloon in a cage—pressured, misshapen, and yearning for freedom.

My apartment door creaked open with its usual screeeak. “Sorry about that,” I said, adopting the overly polite tone of someone welcoming a guest. “Cheap landlords won’t fix a damned thing.”

Corey responded to the jab with a tight-lipped, mocking smile as she stepped inside. She waited as I closed the door behind her at an agonizingly slow pace. Screee…eee…eee…

It pleased me. Not only because it highlighted how she treated me as a tenant, but also because it stretched her suffering out just a little longer.

“Set it by the couch, then get your cheap ass out of here.” I spanked her again.

“Mmmhh,” she moaned, “Yes, Daddy.”

Her Consent

She’d shifted from calling me “Master” which I like very much, to “Daddy.” I never had a sub call me that before. It was respectful yet affectionate. My dick bulged harder against my pants at her words, increasing my discomfort.

We had agreed that neither of us was ready to begin our sexual encounter yet. Everything had to wait until the weekend. Details needed to be planned, roles defined, safe words shared—and most importantly, her husband had to be gone.

I would train her to be a world-class slut-puppy this weekend. Not a moment sooner.

The problem was that tormenting her was already so much fun and she was eager to take the abuse. My indiscretion was to our mutual detriment—I was making us both aroused and frustrated. The short wait until the weekend was sure to be unbearable.

I stole a lustful look at her ass walking across my living room, then forced myself to turn away. The short walk to the bathroom brought relief. My erection immediately deflated.

I turned the shower to full hot and watched mesmerized as steam curled into the air. I collapsed onto the toilet and pulled off my shoes. The discomfort of my erection had melted away completely. I looked forward to my quiet shower.

I squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto my electric toothbrush and stepped into the steaming water. The day's grime melted away as the hot water cascaded over me. It felt indulgent—luxurious, even.

Humming softly, I let the heat work its magic on my skin, the steam curling around me like a comforting embrace. The minty freshness of toothpaste quickly replaced the bitter taste of the day as I brushed my teeth.

For one brief, blissful moment, everything faded away. But my euphoria shattered as the shower door swung open. I watched, disheartened, as the warmth and steam escaped, dissipating into the cold bathroom air.

Corey and I stood naked face to face. Her eyes scanned my body. Pausing at my dick, her lips curled into a faint bite. She breathed heavily; her small, perky tits rose and fell with each deep breath.

My erection sprang back to life.

“___co___er,” she shouted, her voice barely cutting through the roar of the shower and the hum of my toothbrush.

“Huh?” I shot her a glare of contempt.

“HELL___TER!” she yelled again, louder this time.

I had no intention of breaking my routine to hear what she was saying. I’d seen Corey like this before—agitated and determined. She wouldn’t leave until she spoke her mind, and I was not in the mood. I was about to shut the door when my toothbrush exuded a happy chirp and powered down.

Signaling for her to wait, I swished water in my mouth, rinsed, and turned off the shower. Finally, reluctantly, I gave her my attention.

“Do you always brush your teeth in the shower?” she asked, her tone hovering between curiosity and judgment.

I gave her a weary half-grin, reminded again that this quirk of mine wasn’t exactly common. “All my life,” I replied curtly. “Look, you can’t—”

“Helicopter!” Corey blurted.

I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress the simmering rage bubbling within. I was on the verge of snapping.

"‘Helicopter!’... it’s my safe word. You have my safe word and my consent. That’s all we really need.” Corey swallowed hard and continued. "Fuck me, use me. Make me pleasure you. I can’t wait until Friday!" She pleaded, shaking her head with stern conviction. She stood patiently waiting for my reaction.

Her Lesson

I realized that her heavy breathing was not from her recent workout with the amplifier but from arousal.

Testing my theory, I abruptly reached down and grabbed her snatch. Corey jerked away, closing her legs. I shot her a look—a mix of anger, confusion, and annoyance.

“Sorry,” she blushed. “This situation… I’m not used to someone just grabbing me down there. Jake is so gentle and timid. It makes me sick. This really is what I want. My body is yours. Touch me, Daddy.” Corey relaxed her clinching legs as she spoke. She grabbed my hand and jerked it to her pussy.

I accepted her apology by jamming two fingers inside. Corey moaned. She was deliciously wet. “You interrupted my shower,” I admonished as I massaged her clit.

“Mmm hmm,” she affirmed absentmindedly, clearly not hearing my words but reveling in the sensation of my fingers. I realized I was sending her mixed signals.

“Corey,” I snapped, grabbing her ponytail and yanking her up onto her toes. “I need you to learn something. Relationships are built on three things: boundaries, trust, and respect. You act like none of those matter to other people.”

Corey stared back at me, her gaze sharp and focused. I had her attention now.

"Hands behind your back. Spread your legs, slut.”

"Yes, Daddy." Her voice was tinged with enthusiasm.

"Pain is the best teacher. The faster you learn, the less pain you'll endure," I said, calm but firm.

I continued, "The three pillars of healthy relationships—whether between a husband and wife, a tenant and landlord, or especially a dominant and submissive—are boundaries..."

I raised my open hand. She knew what was coming. Corey didn’t flinch or shrink back. Instead, she stood resolute and obedient. My hand smacked down on her left breast.

“...trust…” I smacked her right breast.

“...and respect.” My hand went low. Corey tilted her hips forward and gave me unobstructed access.

“Good girl,” I said, giving her a slap to her cunt.

“Boundaries, trust, respect,” I repeated, striking her with each word – left breast, right breast, then pussy.

"Understand?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Sorry, I’m a slow learner."

I couldn’t help but smile wryly. I repeated the lesson, delivering harder smacks to the corresponding body parts. "Boundaries, trust, respect. Got it now?”

“Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”

I continued, “You will honor boundaries, trust, and respect while you're under my care, even though you have repeatedly refused to do so in your life.'"

"Yes, Daddy."

I continued, "And when..."

"Daddy?... Sorry, to interrupt, but I forgot. Which one is respect?" She smiled impishly and pushed her pussy forward.

"Are you flirting with me?"

Her body yearned and stretched for the blow that didn’t come. "Not flirting, Daddy, just learning my lesson," she quipped.

"I’ve got just the thing to help you learn. Hand me my belt."

Our Understanding

Corey’s body language instantly shifted. “No welts,” she said, panic creeping into her voice. “Jake would see. He is so jealous and protective,” she stammered.

I raised my hands to mollify her, breaking character. Her eyes met mine. “Absolutely. No welts, bruises, or broken skin. Ever. I’m not into that. It stops feeling playful and crosses into abuse. Pain, not injury.”

Corey relaxed a bit. I continued. “If you ever dislike what’s happening, you merely have to say 'helicopter' and I’ll stop immediately.”

We gazed at each other for a long moment.

She nodded.

I nodded.

Her Advanced Tutorial

“Where were we?” I asked.

My beautiful, young lawyer resumed her role as my submissive. “You were about to give me an advanced lesson in respect.”

“Yes. Let’s use this as an example. In review, relationships require boundaries, trust, and respect.” I smacked her left breast, right right breast, and pussy in turn. “Your request for no welts—which of the pillars would you say that falls under?” I asked, my tone like that of a teacher quizzing a pupil.

Corey started to speak, then stopped. Instead, she offered her left breast for me to strike.

“Perfect,” I praised, “it is a boundary [smack on her left breast]. I am going to honor that boundary [smack on her left breast]... out of respect [smack on her pussy]... for who you are outside of this arrangement, namely Jake's wife.

“Then it becomes a cycle. This is how real humans interact. We honor each other’s boundaries, out of respect, then we grow in trust.” I paused. “Do you still need that lesson in respect?” I asked, my tone playful.

Corey glanced down at my throbbing erection. “Yes, Daddy. I think I do.” She tilted her pelvis forward again, offering access to her pussy, and waited.

Instead, I offered an open hand again. “My belt...”

Corey’s eyes widened, searching my face for hints of my intention. I gave her a reassuring nod, gentle but firm.

She picked my belt off the tiled floor and handed it to me. Her breathing grew heavier and more intense.

“For trust to be earned, we must first become vulnerable. I want you to feel very, very vulnerable. Lie on your back and hold your ankles with your legs spread.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She obeyed.

I knelt between her legs. Extending several inches of the belt. I rubbed the slack end across her greedy hole. Her breathing grew more intense.

“See what’s happening, Corey? You are exercising trust [strikes right breast with belt] that I will honor your boundary [strikes left breast with belt] of no welts, which produces mutual respect.” [strikes pussy with belt]

I watched Corey’s reaction. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

“You are doing well trusting and respecting me, my pet,” I encouraged. "You still need to be punished, though, because you got one thing terribly wrong.” She fixed her gaze on me. “You did not show any respect [strikes pussy with belt] for my boundaries [strikes left breast with belt] when I told you to go home and leave me to my shower.”

This wasn’t roleplay—I was genuinely irritated with Corey. Not just for this incident, but for her constant disregard for my boundaries and lack of basic courtesy. Still, I felt a flicker of encouragement—she seemed to be grasping what I was saying.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, with genuine remorse. The mood was shifting, becoming serious—a direction I hadn’t intended things to take.

“The good thing about this,” I said, adopting a lighthearted tone, “is that I now have a reason to punish you.”

I turned back toward the shower. “I’m going to finish my shower. You are going to lie there like the slut you are on the floor with your pussy spread waiting for me.”

“You are going to respect” [strikes pussy with belt] my boundaries [strikes left breast with belt] and not interrupt me.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Her Commitment

I stepped away from Corey and twisted the shower on, leaving her lying there. I was pleased with her obedience.

Just one step from the shower, she interrupted me again. “Daddy...?” Her voice was needy and whiny.

A flash of anger surged through me. Had her lesson been forgotten so quickly? “What?” I snapped, my tone sharp with irritation.

“Your dick is dripping pre-cum. Washing it off would be a terrible waste when I am right here. Make me clean it up for you, Daddy…?” It was a statement and a question.

My dick twitched and flexed at her words. I liked her idea very much, but I did not want to encourage her to think she could dictate her punishments. I considered her request for a long moment.

“Kneel,” I commanded. Corey enthusiastically jumped up. I dangled my dick in front of her face and she reached out to take me in her mouth. “NO!” I chastised, pulling away. “You don’t decide when you get this.” I slapped her face with my dick. It landed on her cheek with a thud. We were both surprised by how much force was exerted.

She sat back and rested her weight on her ankles, her hands placed patiently on her thighs. Her gaze was fixed on my cock. It was adorable—she looked like a dog eagerly waiting for a treat.

“Keep those lips closed,” I commanded, then I ran the tip of my cock across her lips, mixing my pre-cum with her rose-colored lip gloss. “You’ll wear this on your lips while I shower.” I sensed that she desperately wanted to take me in her mouth. “You want to suck me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Corey exclaimed between heavy breaths.

“Do you deep throat?” I asked, rubbing my dick against her face. Corey blushed and looked away. This surprised me. I had never seen her embarrassed before.

“I’ll try, Daddy. Forgive me if I disappoint you—it’s… been a while.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Been a while?” I said dumbly.

“Since I… you know… sucked a dick.” She disobediently flashed her tongue, licking the tip of my dick.

“You don’t… blow Jake?” I stammered struggling for the right words.

Corey was annoyed at the mention of her husband. “No. Never. Jake is super vanilla and boring when it comes to sex. His personality is aggressive as hell, and he has quite a temper—that’s what makes him a great lawyer—but he’s timid as a eunuch in the bedroom. I need the proper treatment of a real man sometimes.” She licked the tip of my dick again.

“Bad slut,” I reprimanded. “You will wait for your treat.” I slapped her face with my dick again.

“Yes, Daddy.”

A shimmer of light from her hand caught my eye and inspired an idea. A wonderful idea.

“I am very disappointed in you. Good slut-puppies are naked for their master with no exceptions,” I said in a disapproving tone.

Corey looked down at her body, confused and frustrated. “I am naked,” she snapped instinctively. Her propensity for argument surfaced. Realizing that her words were inappropriate for the scene, she added, “Naked and ready to be used.”

“Your rings…” I shook my head in admonishment. She followed my gaze to her left hand. “They represent a commitment you made to Jake, don’t they?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replied uneasily.

“You wear them as you kneel before a man twice your age begging to be used as a sex slave. You’re violating that commitment. What would Jake think?”

“Oh my God. We have to ensure that he NEVER finds out! With his temper, he may kill us both. Actually.”

Her ominous tone scared me slightly. “You’re sure you want to do this?” I asked.

Corey looked from me to my dick and back again. “Yes, Daddy, I have never been more sure of anything.”

“Good,” I said, with more confidence than I felt. “Because those rings will represent a new commitment you’re making to me.” I let the words linger in the air.

“Kneel on them,” I commanded.

Corey and I were in perfect sync again. She understood without hesitation, and slipped the rings off her finger. She took her wedding ring—a simple, white gold band—and placed it under the weight of her right knee. She closed her eyes, adjusting to the pain.

Corey held her engagement ring, staring at it for a long moment. The band was diamond-studded, with a massive rock that flaunted her wealth and position in life.

A fleeting thought crossed my mind that this ring was worth more than all the money I had in the world. While the thought gave me a pang of sadness, it also gave me a twinge of sadistic satisfaction—knowing its new value lay in being a wonderfully symbolic punishment.

She drew a deep breath and slipped it under her left knee. Despite the tears welling in her eyes, she smiled up at me with a proud, smug expression.

“How do you feel, slut?” I asked, honestly intrigued by her response.

“Oh my God, Daddy, I have not felt this alive in a very long time. Let me thank you with my mouth.” She licked at the air in the direction of my dick but dared not disobey my order. She waited for permission.

“You want this?” I wagged my dick in her face teasingly.

“Yes, Daddy. Very much.” It was cute the way her head and tongue followed my wagging dick as I taunted her.

I took a half step back to make it even harder for her. “No hands. The tip of your tongue on the tip of my dick. Nothing more.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Corey sat up, shifting her weight painfully onto her rings, and touched her tongue to my dick. She worked the tip with reckless abandon, pushing her tongue forward as if she were trying...