Page 34 of Don't Puck Him

I do as he orders. But I don’t do it well enough.

Hunter grabs me by the waist, turns me around, unbuttons my jeans, drops them to my knees, and slaps me hard on my ass. Three times, each time harder than the time before.

I cry out.

“Quiet, Wren. Only I get to hear those sounds, not the neighbors.”

I silently nod. Tears are birthing in my eyes, but they’re not from sadness. Maybe fear. Maybe arousal. Maybe sheer gratitude for finally being owned and cherished like a precious possession. Like Hunter’s own Faberge egg.

The entire time Hunter is schooling me, I can’t stop shaking, but he allows me this bodily reaction. I am not punished for it.

Throughout the late afternoon, Hunter runs through my lessons, none having to do with college work. Objects I’ve yet to see. Commands he will use. Responses I’m allowed.

For the most part, my instruction goes well, and Hunter will reward me, kissing and caressing me. But as soon as I get something wrong, the same punishment ensues. Only each time, the act is more aggressive, more shameful for me.

Hunter stands over me. “Now, Wren, do you understand your role?”

Now I am on my knees on the carpet. My head is lowered, as always. “Yes, sir.”

“Will you be a good girl for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who do you belong to? You may speak freely.”

“I belong to you. Hunter Fowler.”

“And to anyone else?”

“No, sir. No one else.”

“Do you know how I am instructing you is for your benefit?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Especially any punishments?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Hunter takes my chin in his hand and allows me to see his face. He is serenely smiling.

I can’t help myself. I proudly smile back.

I am his. I am his good girl. If this is a trap, the trap has already sprung.

Fear has no place left in my mind. To fear Hunter now will be a waste of my energy and time. I know my destiny. I must use all of my mental and physical strength to obey and rightly behave as his.

* * *

In the days which follow,I avoid some of Hunter’s calls and texts.

I need space to digest all this.

And I guess Hunter understands that, as I do not get punished for needing this time alone.

But whenever I see him, on campus or at a party, I am drawn to his side like a robot. I always ensure I sit or stand slightly lower than him. I know my place. He sees my behavior, and I see his quiet approval.

If we come separately to a venue, we always leave together.

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