The Fall – Chapter 58 [Femdom] [Humiliation] [Conditioning] [Cuckold]

This is the fictional story of a husband’s slow, almost invisible transformation; from partner to slave, from lover to obedient pet.

She doesn’t break him with cruelty. She manipulates him slowly, subtly, rewriting the rules one quiet command at a time.

By the time he notices what he’s become… it’s already too late.

This story explores chastity, emotional control, humiliation, and the slow, irreversible shift of power.

Start from Prologue/Chapter 1 to witness the unraveling not with a bang, but with a whisper.

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She parked the car outside instead of pulling into the garage. The moment I stepped out, she gestured sharply for me to kneel. I dropped down instantly, head bowed. Without saying a word, she gave the leash a quick tug and started walking toward the front door, forcing me to crawl behind her.

At the entrance, she turned and said curtly, “Stay.” Then she went inside, leaving me kneeling on the porch. The seconds dragged until she returned with a bone-shaped gag in one hand and a pair of handcuffs in the other.

“Open,” she ordered.

I obeyed at once, eager to comply so we could finally go inside. She pushed the gag between my lips and fastened it tightly behind my head, the strap biting into my skin. Then she said, “Hands behind your back.” I hurried to obey again, placing my wrists behind me as quickly as I could, hoping it might please her or at least spare me another delay. The metal cuffs clicked shut around them a moment later.

Instead of taking me inside, she ran the end of the leash through a metal ring bolted into the wall beside the door. The moment she did, I had to straighten up just to ease the pull on my nose piercing but she didn’t stop there. She kept feeding the leash through the ring, inch by inch, until I was forced to rise higher and higher, finally balancing on my toes, straining to keep the pressure from digging into my nose. Only when I was trembling and barely steady did she stop, securing the leash to a lower ring and leaving me there; stretched, helpless and struggling to keep my balance.

She stepped back to admire her handiwork, head tilted, lips curling into a slow, satisfied smile.

“There you go,” she murmured. “You look comfy… right?”

Her tone was almost teasing, as though she were talking to a pet posing for a photo. Then she reached into her pocket and took out her phone. A faint click followed, she’d just taken a photo. My stomach clenched.

“Now listen to me, puppy,” she said, tone bright and mockingly gentle. “I need to run a quick errand. Don’t make too much noise, okay? We wouldn’t want to alarm the neighbors.” Her grin widened. “And more importantly, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back soon.”

My throat tightened behind the gag. I tried to shake my head, to plead with my eyes, anything to make her stop, to make her understand that leaving me like this, outside, was too much. I moaned frantically, the sounds desperate and garbled through the gag, a pitiful attempt at a plea. A muffled whimper escaped me, half-prayer, half-panic.

She only smiled wider, clearly entertained by my panic. Then, without warning, her hand cracked across my cheek; sharp and stinging. “What did I just say about making noise?” she said coolly, her voice low but laced with amusement. “Now keep quiet, puppy… unless you’d rather spend the whole night out here like this.”

At her threat, I froze instantly. The panic drained into stillness. I knew she meant it and Mistress wasn’t here to protect me. Seeing me fall silent so quickly made her smile.

“Good puppy,” she murmured, almost sweetly, before giving my bum a sharp smack. Then she turned, her heels clicking against the pavement as she walked to her car and drove off, leaving me straining on my toes in the quiet evening air like some decoration.

Until the engine started, a small part of me still clung to the hope that this was just one of her cruel jokes, that she’d turn back with that smirk of hers and let me inside. But when the car pulled away, the sound of it shrinking into the distance, the hope went with it.

Now there was only silence, the kind that makes every small noise sound magnified. A distant car door, a dog barking, the rustle of wind through the hedges, each one made my heart jolt. I kept glancing toward the street, terrified that someone might appear and see me like this. My whole body trembled, straining upward on aching toes, the leash pulling tight with every tiny movement.

Minutes dragged into what felt like hours. My calves burned, my shoulders ached from the strain and every breath seemed to make the chain creak softly. I was on my toes literally and metaphorically, balanced between pain and fear, obedience and humiliation, the slightest sound threatening to tip me over.

By the time headlights finally swept across the driveway, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely keep from whimpering.

But this time, she didn’t stop in the driveway. The car rolled straight into the garage and the door slid shut behind her with a mechanical hum that sounded far too final.

I waited; a minute, two, maybe more, expecting her to come back out and fetch me inside. But nothing happened. The porch light flickered faintly above me, throwing long shadows across the yard and the silence stretched until a sick thought began to form in my mind.

A cold wave of realization hit: what if she’d forgotten me?

The idea hit like a punch. Panic crept in. My breath quickened behind the gag, panic clawing its way up my throat. I tried to make sounds, muffled moans, desperate little noises, anything that might reach her. But the gag swallowed them all, leaving only a faint, pathetic hum against the night air.

I pulled against the leash, the ring above me clinking softly but there was no give. I was just hanging there like an ornament outside her house, naked and trembling, with the cold air biting at my skin and the leash keeping me stretched helplessly on display.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard something, faint footsteps echoing from the other side of the door. My chest tightened with relief. I straightened up as much as I could, trying to make myself look obedient, grateful, anything that might earn me mercy.

But the steps didn’t come closer. They moved past the door instead, fading toward the other side of the house. She hadn’t come for me. She hadn’t even looked.

A soft, broken noise escaped my throat before I could stop it. My legs trembled from standing on my toes for so long; every muscle burned but I didn’t dare rest my heels fully on the ground. The leash tugged sharply at my nose with every shift of balance, forcing me to stay stretched and trembling.

I tried to stay still, to be good but each small sound in the distance, a passing car, a voice somewhere down the street, made me flinch and strain against the leash again, teetering between pain and panic.

The click of heels finally broke the silence. Sharp, deliberate, unmistakable.

My whole body tensed as the sound drew nearer, each step measured; unhurried, almost teasing in its rhythm. When the door finally opened, the sudden light from inside spilled over me and there she was, framed perfectly in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

“Well,” she said softly, her gaze sweeping over me from head to toe, pausing on the way my body trembled and my calves quivered. “You’re still here. Good puppy.”

She walked closer, circling me slowly. Her perfume mixed with the cool night air, a dizzying contrast. When she reached the leash, she gave it a casual flick, watching the way I flinched and fought to keep balance.

“Still standing on your toes?” she crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly, voice low, amused, eyes glinting with cruel humor. “You must’ve really wanted to please me.”

“Okay, time to come in,” she said lightly, as though speaking to a pet. “But before we do, a little reminder, puppy. This isn’t your Mistress’s house. It’s mine. Which means you play by my rules. Total obedience. No hesitation. Otherwise…” she smiled faintly, “I can always leave you out here again. Understood?”

I nodded at once; frantic, eager, ready to agree to anything if it meant getting out of that cruel position.

Her smile deepened as she reached for the leash, unhooking it and slowly letting it drop. I felt the strain on my calves ease the moment my heels touched the ground, a trembling sigh escaping me through the gag. When she lowered it further, I sank to my knees, grateful and exhausted, the blood rushing back into my legs with a dull, aching throb.

Without thinking, I bowed low and pressed the gag against her feet; a clumsy, wordless gesture of gratitude and submission.

She looked down at me for a moment, head slightly tilted, as if weighing whether to be amused or disappointed. Then, with a faint laugh, she said,

“Look at you… you really are well trained. Claire’s done quite a number on you.”

Her tone was mocking but there was a hint of satisfaction underneath, like someone admiring a tool that performed exactly as intended. Then, almost lazily, she reached down and uncuffed my hands, the metal clicking open one side at a time. My wrists ached where the cuffs had bitten into my skin but I didn’t dare rub them. She nudged my chin up with the tip of her shoe until I met her gaze.

“Alright, puppy,” she said softly, “you’ve earned your way back inside. But remember, everything you do in my house happens because I allow it. You breathe, crawl, eat, even exist here because I say so. Understand?”

Then without waiting for a reply, she turned toward the door and began to walk toward the door. The leash pulled taut almost instantly, a sharp tug on my nose making me flinch. I scrambled to follow on all fours, crawling quickly after her to ease the pressure, desperate not to fall behind.

Crossing the threshold felt like stepping into another world. The warmth of the house wrapped around me, a sharp contrast to the chill outside. The sound of the door closing behind us echoed like a verdict; final, inescapable. Relief washed over me for a heartbeat, only to be replaced by a heavier awareness of where I was and who stood holding my leash.

As soon as she sat down on the couch, she pointed at the floor in front of her. I crawled there without hesitation and knelt, keeping my head low. The moment I settled, her hand cracked across my face; sharp, precise. Before I could even process the sting, a backhand followed, snapping my head the other way.

For a moment, the world rang in my ears. Then her fingers twisted into my hair, yanking my head back until I was forced to meet her eyes. Her voice was low, calm and utterly sure of itself.

“When you’re in front of me, you kneel. Hands behind your back, legs spread wide. Always. Do you understand?”

The sting of her slaps still burned across my cheeks as her command sank in. I didn’t hesitate, I shifted into position instantly, hands clasped behind my back, knees apart, head bowed. The posture felt both humiliating and familiar, a silent confession of what I’d become. I nodded quickly, afraid that even the smallest delay might earn me another slap.

She smiled at my sudden stillness, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. “That’s better,” she said softly. “You learn fast when you want to avoid trouble.”

Then her fingers brushed my cheek as she unclasped the strap. The gag popped free with a wet sound and I sucked in a shaky breath but before I could relax, her smirk deepened.

She leaned back on the couch, stretching her legs before resting them on the table’s edge. “Now,” she went on, smirking, “why don’t you put that pretty mouth of yours to some use?”

My stomach clenched as she crooked a finger, pointing at her bare feet. The meaning was obvious. I hesitated for an instant, long enough for her to raise an eyebrow in warning.

Without another word, I sank down between her legs and bowed my head. Her toes wiggled expectantly in front of me. I pressed my lips to them one by one, licking, sucking, trying to please her the only way I could.

“Look at that pathetic little clitty,” she said with a grin, voice full of teasing delight. “Can’t even stay hard for a second and a prejac on top of it, you’re practically impotent, aren’t you? That thing’s just decoration at this point. Good thing she locked it up for good. No one needs that kind of disappointment roaming free.”

She chuckled, nudging my chin with her toe. “But I’ll give you this, you did learn fast how to make that pretty mouth of yours useful enough to stay relevant.”

She flexed her toes against my tongue, idly rubbing them over my lips and chin, amused by how completely she owned me in that moment.

Her words stung; sharp, mocking, merciless, yet somewhere between the sting and the laughter, something twisted inside me. Shame bloomed first, hot and unbearable, crawling up my neck and across my cheeks. But underneath that heat, another kind of pulse began to rise, one that made my breath quicken, that terrible, traitorous throb that always came when I was reminded what I’d become.

Every word she spoke rubbed that truth in deeper: useless, locked, impotent; a thing meant to kneel and serve. And the worst part was how my body responded to it. The more she degraded me, the harder it was to breathe, the deeper that ache curled inside me. I hated how right she was… and how much I wanted her to keep saying it.

She smirked down at me, her phone already in hand. “Don’t you dare stop unless I say, puppy,” she said, tone dripping with amusement. “Let’s see how Claire’s date is going, shall we? While her obedient little hubby puppy is down here licking my feet like it’s his life’s purpose…”

She had never used the word hubby for me until now, she used it intentionally, just to twist the knife a little deeper. And it worked. My cheeks burned, practically glowing red with shame.

She then typed something on her phone and left it aside on the table, her attention returning to me. I stayed busy, licking and sucking at her toes, fully absorbed in my task. A few minutes later, the phone buzzed. She picked it up casually, glanced at the screen and let out a soft hum of amusement.

“Claire says we’re doing great… just finished dinner, heading out in a while. How’s puppy doing?” she read aloud, her tone light, almost as if she were simply passing on a mundane update.

Meera smirked, her eyes glinting as she looked down at me. “Hmm… let me tell her how her puppy’s doing,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

Before I could even process the words, she picked up her phone again, angled it just right and snapped a photo; me kneeling at her feet, lips wrapped around her toes, my face flushed with shame. The flash flickered for an instant, sealing my humiliation in a single image.

“There,” she said with a satisfied grin, tapping the screen. “Sent. Now she’ll know exactly how her puppy is doing.”

“Let me ask her to share the good news as soon as possible,” she said, drawing out each word like honey, “so we can celebrate it… right, cucky?”

Her thumbs hovered over the screen as she grinned down at me. “Let’s make sure she knows how eager you are.” She started typing, reading the message aloud in that sing-song voice that made every word sting twice as much.

“‘Your cucky is begging me to ask you to give us the good news as soon as you can.’”

She paused, tilted her head and looked at me. “Does that sound okay, puppy?”

I whimpered behind my lips, unable to answer and she smiled wider. “Perfect.” A quick tap followed. “Sent.”

“Shall we have dinner too, puppy?” she asked lightly, as if the question were nothing more than polite conversation. Then, without waiting for a response, she pressed the sole of her foot against my face and pushed me back; a careless little shove that told me exactly where I belonged.

A lazy smirk curved her lips as she reached down, caught my leash and gave it a sharp tug, a silent command to follow.

I crawled after her to the dining table, the leash dragging lightly against the floor. When we reached her chair, she gave the leash another quick tug and guided me beside her chair, just enough to keep me close.

She sat down with unhurried ease, adjusting herself comfortably before reaching for her plate. I stayed where she’d left me; kneeling beside her chair, leash still resting slack between her fingers. The clinking of her cutlery was the only sound in the room for a while, each soft scrape of metal reminding me of my place.

She ate slowly, savoring each bite, not even glancing at me at first. Then, without warning, she tore off a small piece of bread and let it fall from her fingers. It landed on the floor just in front of my knees with a soft thud. For a second, I wasn’t sure if it was a mistake but then her hand returned to her lap and the faintest smirk tugged at her lips.

I understood.

The air seemed to tighten as I bent forward, the collar pressing lightly against my throat. I lowered my head and took the bread between my lips, careful not to use my hands. When I glanced up again, she was watching; calm, composed, eyes glittering with quiet amusement before turning back to her plate as though feeding me off the floor were the most natural thing in the world.

After a few minutes, she tore off another piece, this time, she let it fall a little farther away. I hesitated, my eyes flicking from the bread to her face, unsure if she meant it.

Her gaze met mine, cool and amused. She tilted her head slightly, as if studying a slow learner.

“What are you waiting for, puppy?” she said, her voice light but laced with mockery. “It’s not gonna come to you.”

My breath caught; she didn’t have to raise her voice. The quiet authority in her tone was enough. I dropped my gaze instantly and crawled forward on all fours, feeling the floor against my knees as I reached for the piece with my mouth. The leash shifted and brushed my shoulder as I bent down, the sound of her soft laughter following me.

I bent down and took the piece between my teeth, careful not to touch it with my hands. The taste was faint but the humiliation was sharp and real, every chew reminded me of what I’d become for her.

Meera leaned back in her chair, watching me with a lazy smile. “Look at you,” she murmured, tapping her fork lightly against the plate. “So well-trained. You didn’t even think about using your hands.”

She paused, eyes glinting with amusement. “Claire must be so proud of her little house-pet. I bet you even wag inside that cage when someone praises you, don’t you?”

Hearing her words, my caged clit gave a helpless twitch, betraying me completely. Meera laughed; a low, delighted sound. “Oh, puppy… you don’t even try to hide it anymore, do you? That’s how far gone you are. Absolutely pathetic.”

Meera ate slowly, taking her time with every bite. Between mouthfuls, she’d drop small scraps from her plate; a bit of bread here, a morsel there and watch me scramble for them. Each time, her gaze followed me like I was part of the evening’s entertainment.

“Good puppy,” she murmured once, tapping her fork against her plate before flicking another piece toward the floor. “You’re really getting the hang of this, aren’t you? Eating like you were meant to.”

Her laughter lingered as I chewed, the warmth of food doing nothing to soften the burn of humiliation.

When she finished eating, she wiped her fingers on a napkin, pushed her chair back and stood.

“Clean all this up,” she said simply, not bothering to look at me as she turned toward the hallway.

I watched her disappear into her room, the soft click of the door leaving me alone with the remains of her meal.

I cleaned carefully, gathering crumbs from the floor, wiping the table until it shone. When everything was spotless, I hesitated. For a long moment I didn’t know where I was supposed to go, what I was supposed to do.

So I did the only thing that felt safe; I knelt beside the dining table, hands behind my back, legs spread wide, eyes lowered and waited for her to return.

The plug buzzed suddenly and I froze. I knew what it meant. Meera was summoning me.

I crawled toward her room, heart pounding and found her standing by the dresser, dabbing lotion onto her face. She didn’t even glance at me when she spoke.

“Tell me, puppy, I’m curious. How did this even start between you and Claire? You two looked like a normal couple not too long ago. How did you end up like this?”

My throat tightened. I swallowed hard, hesitating.

Her voice sharpened. “I asked you a question, puppy.”

“It… it was my idea, Miss Meera,” I managed.

She smirked at her reflection. “Thought so. That’s what makes it truly pathetic, you know? You chose this. No one forced you. You decided all on your own to be reduced to… whatever this is. Even puppies have more self-respect than you. Calling you one is generous, isn’t it?”

Her words landed like slaps, each one stripping away another thin layer of dignity I had left. Shame burned through me but beneath it, as always, something darker stirred. The cruel truth in her voice didn’t just humiliate me; it fed that hunger I could never quite silence.

She glanced at me through the mirror, a faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Answer me, isn’t it generous to even call you that?”

My throat tightened. The words caught somewhere between fear and shame, muffled by the weight of what she’d just said. I lowered my gaze to the floor, unable to meet her eyes.

“Y-yes, Miss Meera…” I stammered softly. “It’s generous.”

Once she finished her facial care, she slowly stripped off her clothes. First, the casual layers came off, leaving her in just her lingerie. My breath caught. Then, with deliberate ease, she removed even that, standing before me completely exposed. The sight took me completely by surprise.

I froze, unable to look away as she faced me, every line of her body commanding attention. My chest tightened, my mind dumbfounded by her beauty and I couldn’t help the small shiver running through me.

Seeing me frozen, mesmerized, she stepped forward, her eyes narrowing and without warning her hand shot out; a sharp crack on one cheek, then another on the other. Pain and heat exploded across my skin.

“Keep your eyes on the floor,” she snapped, voice low and dangerous. “I didn’t give you a permission to look at me like this.”

I gulped, my head dropping instinctively, heart racing as the sting of the slaps mixed with a flush of something I couldn’t name.

Satisfied after I lowered my eyes, she said, “So tell me, puppy… is it true that Claire has banned that lil clitty of yours from ever touching her body again?”

My stomach twisted with shame, heat pooling low in my body. My clit throbbed helplessly in its cage, betraying me as always, even as my mind screamed at how pathetic I had become. I felt humiliated, exposed and yet, achingly aroused, every word of hers driving the craving deeper.

“I… yes, Miss Meera,” I whispered, my voice muffled, trembling with the weight of the truth.

When I admitted it, she tilted her head slightly, watching my face.

“And when she told you that,” Meera asked softly, “how did it make you feel, puppy? Don’t lie. Did it arouse you then, like your clitty is aroused and straining right now? Pathetic, isn’t it?”

I lowered my face at her words, nodding slowly in agreement, my cheeks burning. My body betrayed me despite the shame, every nerve alive, my clit twitching in its cage as her words sank in.

She leaned closer, letting her pussy sit right in front of my face. “Since you can’t use your useless clit, do you want to use your tongue here, puppy?”

The scent was intoxicating and I could almost reach her pussy if I extended my tongue. My clit trembled violently in its cage, betraying me completely. I was so mesmerized I froze, forgetting to respond.

She chuckled, teasing. “Aww… looks like puppy doesn’t want it. No problem.”

That snapped me out of it. I stammered, “No, Miss Meera… I want it… please, please let me lick your pussy.”

She smiled lazily. “If you want it, puppy… then you’ll have to earn it.”

Her voice dropped lower. “Show me your tongue.”

I obeyed instantly, tongue trembling in the air between us.

“Good,” she murmured. “Now stretch it out… more.”

I strained forward, desperate, tongue fully extended, humiliation burning through me.

“Look at you,” she laughed softly. “Look how pathetic you look right now. Bark for me, puppy; show me how desperate you are.”

My throat tightened around the gag’s ghost, shame pressing against the walls of my chest. Bark for her. The command hung there; ridiculous, degrading but also heavy with the same pull that had undone me so many times before. Even Mistress had never asked me to do something like this. It was too humiliating, too raw.

My tongue was still out, trembling; my body wanted to move, to obey.

A sound broke from me before I could stop it; small, uncertain, more whimper than bark. She grinned, tilting her head.

“Aww, that’s all you’ve got? Try again, puppy. Louder this time.”

The second one came rougher, louder. The sound scraped against my throat and with it, something inside me twisted; humiliation and arousal merging until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

She tilted her head slightly again, watching me with that cruel amusement that always made my stomach twist. “Good puppy,” she murmured, voice low and satisfied. “You’re finally starting to sound like what you really are.”

Her words dug into me deeper than any slap could. I kept barking, louder now, each sound echoing against the walls, ridiculous, degrading but impossible to stop.

“Keep going,” she ordered. “Don’t stop until I say so.”

Something shifted inside me. The louder I barked, the more the shame burned through me and somewhere tangled in that shame was heat; raw, humiliating heat. My face flushed; my breath quickened behind the sounds I made.

She noticed immediately. Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Oh, look at you,” she said softly. “You’re actually getting off on this, aren’t you? My little bitch can’t even tell the difference between shame and pleasure anymore.”

Her laughter rippled through the room, light and cruel. “Look at you,” she said, voice low and gleeful. “You’ve fallen so low, it’s almost beautiful.”

She took a step closer, close enough that I could feel her warmth, smell the faint trace of her skin. “A real man wouldn’t do this even if I begged him. But you?” Her tone turned mocking, each word dripping with scorn. “You’re barking for the chance to lick my pussy. How pathetic is that, puppy?”

My voice cracked between barks, each sound trembling with desperation and shame. My chest heaved; my throat burned. But the sound kept coming, louder, needier, like something feral had taken root inside me.

She tilted her head, studying me with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “That’s it. Keep going, bitch. Louder. I want the neighbors to know what you really are.”

The humiliation burned through me and it only fed the heat building in my body.

“Let me record a short video… keep going, bitch.”

I kept barking. My body quivered under her gaze, helpless to resist. She picked up her phone from the dresser, her movements deliberate and started recording. I kept going, too horny to think about asking her not to record me, not that it would have mattered, knowing Meera. The very thought of being captured like this aroused me even more, my clit betraying me completely. I started leaking pre-cum. She noticed instantly, a small smirk playing on her lips as she recorded every reaction. Finally, she stopped the video and put her phone away, leaving me trembling and exposed.

She finally told me to stop. The silence after the barking felt deafening. My chest heaved, my throat ached and yet the heat in my body only built higher, pressing against the edges of control. Meera didn’t say anything at first; she just looked down at me, studying the wreck I’d become, her expression unreadable.

Unable to bear the tension, I whispered, voice trembling, “Miss Meera… may I please lick you now? Please… I want to so badly.”

She cooed, “Aww… puppy is craving my pussy so badly… that’s so adorable.” She parted her lips right in front of my eyes, teasing me mercilessly. “You want this, puppy?”

I nodded eagerly, voice trembling. “Yes, Miss Meera… please, please let me lick your pussy.”

She let her fingers drift lower again, spreading herself wider just long enough for me to catch a glimpse before stepping back.

“You want this so badly it hurts, don’t you, puppy?” she whispered, eyes gleaming with amusement. “I can see it all over you… the trembling, the begging, the way you forget to breathe when you look at me.” She paused, letting the silence press down. “But you haven’t earned it yet. Not tonight.”

She straightened, still watching me. “You’ll get your chance when I decide you deserve it, not when you think you do.”

I tried to plead, voice breaking. “Please, Miss Mee-“

The crack of her backhand cut the air before I could finish. The sting bloomed across my cheek, sharp and hot and for a moment my ears rang. She grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so that I was forced to look up at her.

“That’s enough, puppy,” she said coldly, each word slicing through the air. “Unless you want to spend the night outside, standing on your toes like the pathetic bitch you are.”

The threat hit harder than the slap. I froze, my breath caught and then immediately bowed down, pressing my lips to her feet in desperate apology.

She held me there for a moment before speaking again, calmer now. “Time for your bed,” she said. “Do you want to pee before I lock you for the night, puppy?”

I nodded quickly, eyes lowered, still feeling the heat of her palm on my cheek.

She smiled. “Good.”

Then she slipped into her lingerie and walked toward the backyard door, holding the leash clipped to my nose ring. I crawled after her quickly to avoid the tug.

Once there, she opened the door and stepped outside. I looked at her in confusion.

She glanced back at me with a faint smirk.

“What’s the matter, puppy? Did you really think I’d let you use the bathroom inside? That’s not for the likes of you. You’re a puppy, you’ll pee like one in the garden.”

I gulped, the taste of iron in my mouth.

“Come now, don’t keep me waiting,” she said, impatient. She gave the leash a hard tug; there was nowhere to go but with her. Reluctantly, I crawled out into the cool night air.

She dragged me to a corner of the backyard and stopped. For a heartbeat she just watched me, the leash tight in her hand. Then her tone went gentle, deceptively calm. “Alright… lift one leg up, puppy.”

I opened my mouth to beg, to plead with her not to humiliate me like that but the words were still forming when her hand cracked across my cheek. The slap echoed; pain flared and my plea died.

Her voice rose, sharp and dangerous. “Don’t make me repeat myself. I won’t be polite. I’ll make you regret testing me. Get started.”

She raised her voice sharply to unsettle me, loud enough to alarm anyone nearby and I knew that was the point. The volume was a threat: if the neighbors heard, I’d be exposed and humiliated even more.

I immediately complied, lifting my leg awkwardly. Then came her command; calm, deliberate, merciless. “Now pee, puppy.”

The words alone made my stomach twist. It was harder than I thought it would be; every muscle in my body locked from the sheer humiliation of it. She must have noticed my struggle but she didn’t say a word. She just stood there, watching.

I tried to steady my breathing, to relax, to let it happen. Finally, I felt the release begin. The sound seemed far too loud in the quiet night and every second made my skin crawl with shame.

She let out a low, amused hum, tilting her head slightly. “There you go… that’s better,” she said softly, as if praising a pet that had finally learned its trick. Then she laughed under her breath. “See? You just needed a little encouragement.”

She crouched slightly, the leash still in her hand, eyes glinting. “You’re getting better at remembering what you are. Next time,” she teased, giving the leash a light tug. “Don’t think, just obey. That’s what puppies do, right?”

I nodded, completely ashamed. She gave a small tug on the leash and turned toward another door beside the one leading to the living room. I followed without question.

When she opened it, I saw a narrow staircase descending into shadow. It must have led to the basement. She started down first, the leash trailing from her fingers and I crawled after her, each step colder than the one before.

The basement was dimly lit, the single overhead bulb casting harsh shadows across the concrete walls and floor. The air smelled faintly of damp and dust. The only furniture was the thin mattress in the corner and a small metal shelf against the wall. She guided me to the mattress and fastened the end of the leash, still clipped to my nose ring, to a small metal ring bolted beside the mattress.

Just like that, I was locked in place.

After locking me there, she said calmly, “Assume the puppy posture.”

On my knees, hands curled next to my shoulders, tongue out; I complied immediately. She chuckled at the sight.

She said softly. “You look much better like this.”

Then she lifted her sandal and pressed the bottom of it onto my tongue. Instinct made me pull back, my tongue snapping inside before I could stop myself. The reaction earned me a sharp slap, the sound cracked through the basement walls like a gunshot. My ears rang, the echo lingering in the cold air long after her hand had dropped.

My cheek burned where her hand had landed. Before I could even lower my gaze, her voice cut through the ringing in my ears; sharp, cold and deliberate.

“Bring it out again,” she ordered.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, still stunned. She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. “If you dare pull it back again, puppy, I’ll drag you outside and leave you there till morning. Do you understand me?”

My heart thudded. I nodded quickly and forced my tongue out again, trembling, holding it still despite the sting in my face.

She rested the outsole of her sandal on my tongue again, testing my obedience, a cruel smile playing on her lips. I held still, trembling, every nerve on fire.

“Keep it there, puppy and this time, look me in the eyes,” she commanded, her voice sharp and mocking. “Don’t you dare look away, or you’ll spend the whole night outside.”

I hesitated for a split second, heat flooding my face but I forced my eyes up to meet hers. The thrill of shame and helplessness twisted together in my chest, making my clit pulse against its cage.

Her smirk widened. “This is what you were made for, puppy. While your wife is being fucked by a real man, you’re here licking the bottom of my sandals. This is your true calling.”

My stomach knotted with shame, heat rising up my neck until it burned. I could feel my body reacting in ways that only deepened the humiliation, a helpless contradiction of obedience and arousal that I couldn’t control.

My clit twitched violently inside its cage. She noticed, of course and simply chuckled.

“As expected,” she said, voice dripping with amusement, “you never cease to amaze me, puppy; ashamed and aroused at the same time.”

After rubbing the bottom of her sandal one last time over my tongue, she set her foot back on the ground.

“Go to sleep, puppy. You’ve got a long day tomorrow. I’ll come fetch you in the morning.”

With that, she turned toward the stairs. I watched her climb up, her silhouette disappearing step by step until she was gone.

A moment later, I heard the door open, then close and lock.

The light flicked off.

Darkness swallowed everything. I couldn’t see a thing, not even my mattress. I had to crawl on my hands, feeling along the cold floor until my fingers brushed against it. I lay down slowly, the chain on my leash clinking softly against the bolt.

The air was damp and still, heavy with the scent of dust and faint rubber. My tongue still carried the taste of her sandal, my skin the sting of her slap.

Lying there, I tried to calm my breathing but the mix of shame and an uncomfortably sharp arousal still coiled inside me. Until this morning, I didn’t think there was anything left that could push me further, that there was any new way left to humiliate me. But Meera proved me wrong. The things she made me do tonight… they went far beyond anything I could’ve imagined. She had stripped me bare in every sense, degraded me in ways that made me shiver and tremble and yet… the more she degraded me, the more alive I felt.

Guilt gnawed at me, bitter and sweet. I should have been disgusted with myself, disgusted with how my body betrayed me, how my clit throbbed and trembled despite everything, betraying me so completely. But the filth, the humiliation… it was intoxicating. Each shameful twitch, each desperate pulse against the cage made me feel alive in ways I had never known. I was exposed, filthy, utterly worthless and somehow, that worthless, trembling body of mine had never felt so vividly, so horribly alive.

Even as I lay there, heart still racing, I couldn’t shake the image of her standing over me, commanding, teasing, watching every desperate twitch and shiver. I imagined what she might do tomorrow, the ways she could find to humiliate me further, to push me even closer to the edge.

A part of me dreaded it, knew it would strip away whatever tiny scraps of pride I had left. Yet another part of me ached for it, secretly craving her control, the sharp, delicious sting of obedience.

I pressed my face into the mattress, trying to find some comfort in the darkness but my mind kept replaying every bite of degradation, every command. And a small, shameful spark of hope ignited, I wanted her to come back, to find new ways to remind me of my place, to remind me that I existed only to serve, to obey, to be humiliated.

The basement was silent but the echo of her laughter lingered in my mind, promising that tomorrow, nothing would be safe. My body trembled, part with fear, part with anticipation and I realized… I would be ready for whatever she had in store because the more she degraded me, the more alive I felt.