Page 64 of Training His Pet

He would be happy to teach her again who made the rules and who followed them.

“At the cabin,” she said in a hushed tone, still trying to keep others from overhearing.

“And are you?”

“No. I just wanted—”

“Did you ask for permission to leave the cabin?” he asked, keeping his jaw tight and his attention focused.

“No, but—”

“Were you thinking to sneak back in before I finished grilling?” he asked, already knowing the answer as it played across her face. The woman thought she could. She thought she’d be able to just slip back in without him knowing anything.

He shook his head.

“I know you’re upset. I didn’t—I was wrong.” She stepped toward him, touching his shoulders.

“You disobeyed me, pet,” he said, looking down at her.

She took in a long breath. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes narrowed. “Not as much as you will be. Remove your clothes.” He took a large step back; her hands fell away from him.

“W-what?” Her cheeks reddened and she frantically glanced around at the onlookers. No one would get in the way of her punishment, but they’d be curious. He couldn’t blame them. Voyeurism was part of the fun at a resort such as this.

“Remove your clothing,” he said again. “And that’s an extra five. Every time I have to repeat myself, you’ll get extra.”

“Extra what?” she asked, her fingers toying with the hem of her shirt.

“Lashings. You’re getting fifteen as of now, keep delaying and it will be twenty.” He readjusted his grip on the leash.

Her lower lip trembled. “H-here?”

He pointed to her hands. “Get going.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes, but he knew it wasn’t regret for her actions; it was embarrassment that others would see her. They’d see her strip herself and be humbled. They’d witness her being put in her place.

She handed him her shirt and then her shorts once she shimmied out of them. Her hand flicked away a teardrop. “I’m sorry, Dax,” she whispered.

How quickly the strong fierce woman slipped into her submissive space before his eyes.

He stepped forward and hooked the leash onto her collar. “Apparently, I need to keep you on a shorter leash, pet,” he said and wiped a runaway tear from her cheek. “Remove my belt.”

She took a shaky breath but didn’t try to argue. Her hands worked the buckle open and tugged until she slipped the belt out of every loop.

“Hold it in your hands and think about why you’re getting your ass tanned when we get back to the cabin,” he instructed.

Relief blossomed in her eyes. She wouldn’t be getting a public whipping.

It was the only mercy he would grant her.

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