Taming

“I wanna go home!”

Complaints from Yena were as common as the sun rising. Thankfully, they're as easily ignored as they are forgotten.

It certainly wasn’t your idea to be at a shopping mall on a busy Saturday afternoon, but Yena's persistence is much harder to ignore. Wanting new clothes despite the fact her closet is already filled to the brim with designer handbags, expensive perfume, and no shortage of outfits only worn once.

“You wanted to be here, didn’t you?” you ask, trying to hold back your frustration. No more than an hour since Yena's rather petulant complaints started, and her fingers tug at your sleeve like a lost puppy in public, whining away.

“Not this store! It’s tacky and too expensive. I hate it here.” Pouty lips always paired with the most dramatic eye-roll. As if Yena herself isn't the one who constantly spends far beyond your means on such luxuries.

But you don't mind the place. Expensive? Perhaps, but you like the selection, and the way the clothes fit. “We’ll leave in a little bit, Yena. I need some more shirts for work. Be patient.”

“I don’t wanna!” Yena says, as if the the concept of patience is completely foreign. Or a purposeful ploy to put you on edge. Maybe she genuinely doesn't like the store—but you doubt it. Testing your limits is her forte.

“Yena…”

“What?” she asks, in that annoying tone that grates your nerves more than usual today.

Instead, you ignore her and move to a different rack of clothes to focus your energy elsewhere. Not that it matters, Yena follows your every move. Like a shadow on a sunny day, she never leaves your side.

“Just let me shop in peace. The more you complain, the longer I’m going to take.” The perfect counter to a whiny Yena. Or so you think, because she always ups the ante.

“But it’s so boring here!” Yena whines back, just like before, stomping her feet and invading your personal space. She stands directly in front of you, blocking any attempt to browse. “Take me home, master.”

You glare.

Yena knows what that name means, and knows never to use it outside of the bedroom. But she also knows how to push buttons, and knows exactly how to push the biggest one.

“Yena, don’t start,” you growl, grabbing her wrist. Yet another mistake that only encourages her, if the devilish smirk on her face is anything to go by.

“What’s the matter, master? Don’t you want kitten to suck your cock?” After a quick head tilt, Yena drops to her knees, no cares if anyone watches her antics.

“Yena, what the fuck are you doing? Get up,” you demand. But Yena knows exactly what she's doing. Shameless, on her knees in the middle of a clothing store, but she doesn't care. She wants to cause a scene, cupping your crotch before you swat her hand away.

“Yena, stop—”

You don't want to deal with this today, or any day—but Yena loves the attention, loves to push things further than you'd ever have patience for.

“Or what? What will you do to me, master? Punish me?” You let out a frustrated sigh and grab her delicate wrist in a wasted effort to bring her to her senses.

“No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not? Too scared to punish me?”

“Not in public, brat. Because that’s exactly what you want.”

You grit your teeth to try and calm your nerves. Yena stays defiant, stays on her knees, stays unwavering.

“But, master… don’t you want your pet to choke on your cock?”

“Not. Here. Get up, Yena.” The stern tone of your voice gets Yena to drop her act, but not without one last act of rebellion.

Upon rising to her feet, Yena takes a careful look around the store—grabbing the top of her white dress and pulling it down, flashing her breasts for all to see. You immediately see red.

“Yena!” You hate giving in, but she didn't leave you much choice. Far too many people around and you had zero intention to be kicked out. After pulling her top back up, you grab Yena's hand and drag her out of the store, away from prying eyes.

“Fine, you little shit. You want to be punished? Then be careful what you wish for—since that's exactly what you're getting now."

Yena couldn’t help but let out a smile so big it makes her cheeks hurt.

Back at your place, Yena couldn’t be happier about what she's accomplished. A short-lived victory for sure, as you sit back on the couch, pondering what to do with her.

A punishment is in order of course, but how severe—that's all up to her.

“Strip,” you order in a stern voice. Yet Yena hesitates and avoids your fiery gaze. “I said, strip. Now, pet.”

Whenever Yena loses the use of her name, she knows things have gone too far. But she still reluctantly does what you ask, unzips her white dress and lets it fall to the ground. Beautiful and topless, Yena stands proud, but as always, she takes her time, and you grow too impatient.

“Keep going.”

“Nuh-uh. Make me.”

Not exactly a challenge you wanted to hear today, but a challenge nonetheless, one where you reluctantly accept. Up and off the couch in an instant, you tug Yena in the direction of the couch by her wrist, falling back onto the cushions and bending her over your knee.

Black panties down to her ankles, no collar on her neck—that's for good pets only, and this one doesn't deserve it. Your hand wrapped around it will do.

“Fucking brat,” you hiss, blood boiling once more. Your temper might have calmed down, but that didn’t mean you would go easy on her.

“May I be punished now, master?” Yena pleads, looking up with innocent eyes that are anything but.

Without the stress of making a scene in public, you have her at your mercy, nothing to get in the way of whatever you deem necessary. You caress the small of her back and continue the path lower until your hand rests against one of her perfect cheeks.

It's far too quiet, and the only sound that rings through your ears is the huff of annoyance that comes from Yena. She's a needy thing, and sometimes you like to leave her without a proper outlet just to frustrate her. Because two can play her games.

A strike echoes, palm connecting with bare flesh, turning red beneath your hand in a moment, leaving a slight sting. But you don't deliver more, not yet. Not until you're damn good and ready to.

“Please, master. Want it to hurt.” Yena would soon regret those words. Fingertips trace the supple flesh of her ass, enough contact to tease and nothing else, dragging out the anticipation.

"Maybe I shouldn't punish you then," you hiss back, contemplating your options. "Brats like you don't get what they want."

"P-please, master!"

The crack of your hand echoes throughout the entire apartment when you raise it higher and smack it against the soft, tender skin of her ass cheek. A gentle rub and squeeze follows, your thumb tracing over her entrance.

"This is what my pathetic little pet wants? Then hold still."

It only takes a matter of seconds for her to shudder and gasp when your palm lands again with a little more force. Yena can't help squirming as your strikes begin. One, two, three more hard slaps with no time to rest between them. The mixture of pleasure and pain always makes her cry out, unable to do much other than whine and beg for more, her ass covered in handprints from you slapping her a little too rough.

"Shit," Yena hisses between each harsh strike that jolts her body. "M-more, master, please. Can take it harder than that..."