“Good. Three. One. Two.”
The faster he called, the more her panic mounted. Sweat ran down her back, her breath ragged and too fast. Every hesitation, every wrong guess, the collar lit her up again, and this time the current didn’t just burn. It ripped through her, clit and nipples blazing like they’d been doused in gasoline and struck by lightning. Her limbs convulsed. She hit the tile with a grunt, pain branding the lesson into every nerve.
“You’ll learn the numbers like your own name,” Kenny said flatly. “Pain makes memory permanent.”
Boone sat heavily on the bench, watching. “Push harder. She’s sloppy, and half-assing a pose should be punished. Maybe try shocking a little gracefulness into her.”
Silas chuckled darkly. “By the end of the night, she’ll snap into place before her brain even catches up.”
Another wrong pose. Another shock. Her body twitched, mouth opening on a silent scream, tears streaming down her face. She scrambled into the right position, trembling.
Kenny only said, “Again. Faster.”
Another wrong pose. Another shock. This one arced like a whip through her spine and exploded through her most sensitive places. Her mouth opened in a voiceless scream, her body twitching on the floor before she clawed her way upright and forced herself into the right position.
Kenny didn’t even pause. “Again. Faster. One. Three. One. Two. One. Three. Two. Three. One.”
When she finally felt as if she’d mastered one through three, Kenny laid three more photos down.
“Position four.” Inspection pose — standing straight, hands behind her head, legs apart.
“Position five.” Chest pressed to the ground, ass high, arms stretched forward. Knees and chest, but with her arms over her head rather than along her body.
“Position six.” Knees tucked under, head bowed, arms stretched forward. At least he’d left child’s pose alone.
He drilled her through them, voice sharp, unyielding. “One. Four. Six. Two. Three. Five.”
Every stumble lit the collar again, shocks so fierce her vision went blurry, muscles locking tight before collapsing. She scrambled to keep up, but her limbs shook, movements jerky and frantic, each pose slower than the last. She was raw. Shaking. And still, he kept going.
Then came a different command. Kenny pointed across the room. “Crawl to the table.”
Her heart stuttered. Three tables in that direction — coffee table, end table, small desk. No way to ask which. No way tocommunicate. She froze for half a second, then chose the coffee table before he hit the remote to shock her again.
The collar lit her nerves with a jolt that ripped her body taut, a silent scream clawing from her throat.
She staggered forward and tried the end table instead. This time, silence. Obedience.
“Good pet,” Kenny said. “Return.”
Her tears blurred the room, but she crawled back to the rug, kneeled at his feet, chest heaving, waiting for the next order.
Boone sat back in a chair like he was settling in to watch a game, all casual and relaxed. He unzipped and said, “I need a toilet.”
Her entire body went rigid. The rug beneath her knees felt like quicksand, dragging her down and anchoring her to this moment.
“Crawl,” Kenny ordered, hand moving towards the remote.
She did, knees sliding forward, mitts thumping dully on the rug. Her mouth opened without hesitation, obedience eclipsing shame. No matter that her stomach churned with humiliation, the collar enforced obedience above everything.
Feelings were mere background noise.
“Let’s see if she can manage without one of us holding her head,” Kenny said, voice clinical. “If she forgets her place, the collar will remind her.”
Boone rested the flat part of his head on her lower lip, and his stream hit her tongue a heartbeat later, hot and bitter. She swallowed hard, then again, throat working frantically, desperate not to earn another shock while the foul taste coated her mouth.
“Efficient,” Silas said with a dark chuckle. “Piss without leaving your chair. Pet training has its perks.”
Her tears burned as she forced down swallow after swallow, humiliation etching deeper, shredding what was left of herhumanity, heridentity. She was no longer someone being broken, but a toilet providing function.
