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Master paused his own work to listen to the clatter of keys, smiling to himself when he caught the exact moment the pup must’ve made an error and earned an electric shock to its cunt.
Where it sat, bound and blindfolded with a fat vibrator strapped between its legs nestled deep in its puppy parts, the only way for it to know when it had made an error was to receive a sharp jolt on its home-grown little tcock.
Its paws were strapped down with just enough reach so that it could feel out the keyboard in front of it. The more it typed, the more the vibrator would buzz. The faster it worked, the higher the speed. If it made an error, a sharp zap to its twitching parts would make it jerk and whine and backtrack quickly.
Master found that his drippy little pup worked best when it was denied the kind of pleasure that it liked to write so much about.
He pushed back from his own desk, making his way over to the little set up he had constructed that sat off to the side of his own workspace.
He leaned over, flicking the switch on the vibrator and chuckling when the pup whined at the loss, bucking its hips as its paws shuddered over the keys, unsure whether it should continue or not.
Master unclipped the back of the gag next, holding his hand out in front of the pup as it spat it out obediently, lips wet and swollen as it panted.
It whined, wordless, struggling to pull itself out of its roiling desperation so quickly.
“I know, I know,” Master assured, moving to undo the blindfold next.
The pup shivered as the fabric pulled away, not opening its eyes right away as if not believing that it was allowed to. When it finally peeled them open, it blinked wide, watery wet eyes up at Master, needy and desperate without the buzz between its legs.
“Did my puppy make a lot of progress?” Master asked. He knew he was teasing it but he couldn’t help it with the way the pup whimpered and twisted its paws against the restraints, desperate to touch or grab for him, either were good options.
The pup licked its lips squeaking a moment as it struggled to remember how to speak.
“Y-yes, Sir,” it croaked. It wiggled happily as Master finally undid the wrist cuffs, being careful to immediately tug the pup’s paws behind its back and re-secure them there.
Finally, he undid the leg restraints that kept the pup’s thighs spread and pinned down, preventing it from sneaking any additional stimulation that might tip it over the edge.
Master had worked hard to get the pup to this point, and it was solely because the pup had been teased for so long that let its creative juices flow so easily.
The pup was nearly boneless in his arms, unable to grab at him but immediately nuzzling into his neck as he scooped it up.
Master just chuckled.
“Aweeee, did someone have a fun time?” he said, swiping his fingers between the pup’s legs and finding the dripping, sopping mess.
The pup whined, hiding its face in his neck.
“Come on, pup,” Master said, knowing that it always took a moment to remember that it had a mouth and tongue that worked. “Words.”
“Y-yes, Sir,” pup managed, mumbling the words against Master’s skin as its hips jumped, rutting against his fingers as he continued to tease the sensitive thing. “ Ha . . . had fun.”
Master smiled, cradling the pup carefully as he made his way back to his desk.
He hummed, easy himself back down in his chair and leaning back to give the pup a better surface to sprawl on.
“Does my pup want to share?” he said, trailing his fingers up the pup’s twitching, sensitive thighs, listening to the hitch in its breath as he strayed a bit too close to its dripping parts. “Or is it going to leave me hanging?”
The pup whined needily, burying itself just a bit deeper into his chest as its hips jumped, bouncing back and forth between jerking forward and trying to pull back to avoid Master’s teasing touch.
Master slipped one finger into the pup’s hole, feeling it desperately squeeze the small bit of stimulation in an effort to catch the edge that it was constantly chasing.
“I’m waiting, pup,” Master said, unable to help an amused smile at how quickly his little pet fell apart on his hands. He swiped his thumb over its throbbing tcock, feeling the little nub jump with interest.
He could feel the pup’s wet mouth on his neck, sucking and licking. Any time he felt a hint of teeth, he just had to circle his touch around the pup’s tcock to make it pull back with a whine, desperate and needy.
“It’s . . . hah , another training chapter,” it finally managed, pulling away from Master’s neck just enough to mumble the words.
“Oh?” Master said, reward the pup with another finger in its dripping hole. “Is that the one about cocky brat who gets kidnapped?”
Egged on by the two fingers now pumping slowly in and out of it, the pup seemed to gather itself a bit more. It bounced back on Master’s fingers, fisting its paws in his shirt as it trembled.
“Yes, S-Sir,” it said. “It’s . . . that one.”
Master hummed contemplatively. “I’m surprised he’s still holding on,” he said. “What a resilient thing. You’re not letting him cum, are you?”
It was teasing, but Master could feel the way the pup’s hole clench in a bit of panic.
The pup jerked back, pushing away from Master’s chest.
“N-No!” it protested vehemently, even managing to look him in the eye with a bit of defiance.
Master just smiled, rewarding the pup with another stroke of its tcock.
And its trembling resolve crumbled, its thighs falling limp as it slumped on his lap. Its eyes fluttered closed, mouth slack as it moaned, forgetting any sort of defiance as its hips rolled forward.
It was hard to look intimidating when its cheeks were flushed hot and its pupils were blown wide with its own arousal.
“That seems appropriate,” Master said, pulling his fingers out of the pup’s clenching holes and wiping its own wetness off on the inside of its thigh. “Hm?”
The pup slumped back against Master’s chest, hiding its face yet again.
“Y-yes,” it whined, whimpering as it fell away from the edge that Master had been stroking it towards. It hadn’t even been close, but Master knew how to string it along well enough. “V . . . very appropriate.”
Master nodded even though the pup couldn’t see his face.
“That’s right,” he said. “The best way to break an uppity little brat is to teach them that they don’t control the throbbing parts between their legs.”
The pup whined, bucking its hips down and trying to find Master’s fingers again. Or maybe his thigh.
“Don’t you agree?” Master coaxed, shifting his grip on the pup’s hips to push it back, not allowing it a bit of stimulation until it answered his questions.
“Y-yes, Sir,” the pup whined. “Easiest way. Best way.”
It was a bit of a babbling answer, but Master would allow it.
He let the pup ease back down, stroking over its slick folds and finding the hard twitching nub of its tcock.
“What do you plan to do with the brat next?” he asked, giving the pup a couple strokes to spark its inspiration.
The pup whimpered, breathless for a moment.
“Gonna . . . gonna tie him up,” it said, panting as it struggling not to fuck Master’s hand. “He needs to be spanked. Maybe . . . maybe a machine.”
“Something constant,” Master said. “That won’t give him any mercy. Or give in to those bratty tears.”
The pup whined, as if it wanted to disagree but knew better.
“Have you locked up his pathetic cock yet?” Master asked.
The pup shivered, hesitating for a moment before nodding against his skin.
“That’s my good pup,” Master said. “Now, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a brat keep up a stubborn attitude while having his balls paddled. What do you think?”
The pup moaned, and it took it a moment to actually respond.
“That . . . that sounds like a good idea,” it finally managed.
“But what tool works best,” Master mused. “Is the real question.”
He paused his touches, tapping his fingers against the pup’s tcock. Nothing painful, but more like an idle stim as he talked out loud, a less intense version of what he was describing for the fictional brat.
“A leather paddle is always good,” he said. “Reliable. But a rubber mallet could be fun.”
The pup’s breath hitched, hips twitching as it tried to cope with the sensations.
“Mallet,” it repeated, voice hazy with its own desperation.
Master continued his tapping.
“Does that give my pup ideas?” he asked.
The pup was breathing hard, but now that the gears in its head were spinning, it was starting to connect the dots. Its hips continued its small movements, still chasing Master’s fingers, but it babbled against his skin, clinging to him tightly.
“B-balls, eggs,” it said. “ Hhmmm, m-mallet. Oh ! Beaten eggs.”
Master chuckled.
“Is my pup hungry?” he teased.
The pup grunted, pushing away from his chest and once again managed a shaky pout. “No!” it said. “I think . . . binding his balls to a board, with an automated mallet. See how bratty he is afterwards.”
Master just laughed.
“Oh, I have a cruel little pup, do I?” he teased, rewarding the pup with another few pumps on its tcock.
Its breathing trembled and it nodded eagerly, desperate to earn his approval.
“I don’t think anyone could be a brat after that treatment,” Master said.
The pup was breathing hard, paws braced on Master’s chest as it struggled not to sink back into his neck.
“You’d . . . you’d be surprised,” it managed, making Master laugh.
“Would I?” Master said. “Hm? How would he be a stubborn brat after such a harsh treatment? It's common knowledge that all brats store their attitude in their balls, and if you beat them hard enough, you can smooth that stubborn little pout right out of them.”
The pup whined.
“He’d . . . hah , he’d be all huffy,” the pup said with a gasp. “A . . . angry that his balls are achy now. In more ways than one.”
Master smiled.
“You could fix that,” he said. “You have the key to his cage, don’t you?”
The pup pouted, puffing out a cheek, and Master was tempted to rub out its own brat-adjacent attitude with a couple swipes of his own fingers. But he let the pup continue.
For now.
“I’d never let him cum,” the pup said determinedly. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
Master considered that.
“I’m sure he could earn it,” he said. “Somehow.”
The pup rolled its eyes, as if that suggestion was ludicrous.
Master smirked, sinking his fingers back into the pup just to keep its attitude in check.
The pup whined sharply, giving him a watery-eyed look of betrayal as its hips started to buck and grind outside of its control.
“What are all the ways that my pup tries to earn an orgasm?” Master said, teasing the pup as he mused out loud. “Extra good behavior. Begging. Earning stickers on your puppy calendar.”
The pup narrowed its eyes, panting hard as it ground its tcock down firmly on his fingers.
“ Hah, hah, ‘m not . . . nnn , giving him stickers,” it said with a pout.
Master just chuckled, mimicking the pup’s over dramatic pout back at it. “And why not?” he said. “How is he going to earn his little orgasm?”
The pup huffed, struggling to focus on both Master’s fingers and the conversation.
“Once he . . . he’ll get . . . hah , desperate enough, eventually,” it finally managed, which only made Master laugh.
“Desperate enough,” he repeated. “Like my pup is?”
He pulled his hand away, spreading his fingers to show off the web of clear, wet stickiness that stretched between them, giving the pup a good hard look at its own desperation.
The pup gave him a good pout then, puffing out both cheeks and managing a good dark look that made Master laugh.
“‘M not desperate,” the pup insisted.
“Aren’t you?” Master teased. “If you’re not a pent up little pup, then I’m not doing my job right.”
The pup squeaked in alarm as Master sat up, scooping it under the legs and hoisting it up as he stood.
It pitched forward, scrabbling to keep a hold on his shirt. It wrapped its legs around his waist, once again burying its face in his shirt as he carried it out of the room.
“Desperate pups make good writers,” Master said, bouncing the pup teasingly as he walked. “You're only good when all those fun ideas are dripping out of your fingers.” He laughed, sliding a hand down the pup’s spine to cup its ass, dipping just the tips of his fingers towards the clenching wetness, making the pup squeak and bury its face just a bit tighter in his neck. “And out of other holes.”
The pup was trying to mumble protests against his skin, but Master was able to silence those by sliding his fingers back up into the pup’s holes, stuffing it full. Now, every little bounce of Master’s steps fucked the pup up and down on his hand, making it whine with need.
“And if that’s the case,” Master continued, using his hip to knock open the door to his bedroom and step into the room. “Then I need to keep my pup as desperate and pent up and drippy as possible.”
The pup squealed in alarm as, with an easy jerk, Master let the pup fall backwards onto the bed, limbs flailing as it flopped onto the mattress. It didn’t get a chance to try to pull itself together before Master was crawling over it, bullying his way between its legs before it could close them defensively.
“Hm? Pup?” Master said.
The pup was blushing fiercely, and after a moment of being unsure what it was supposed to do with its paws, it finally settled with clamping them over its face with a whimper of fear.
“If my pup isn’t desperate enough,” Master said with a smirk. “Then I’m not treating it right.”
He pressed his hands down on the pup’s knees, pressing its legs open and making its hips cant upwards. Its tcock poked up from its dripping parts, prominent, and a good target. All Master had to do was trail his hands upwards, using his thumbs to pull the pup open and admire the mess between its legs.
It certainly did look desperate, but Master knew that was only the natural response to teasing.
“What to do, what to do,” Master mused. “So many choices.”
He looked up, but the pup was firmly covering its eyes, refusing to look up at him while in such a vulnerable position.
“Just like the brat in your story, right?” he teased. “Does my pup have that kind of attitude?”
The pup whined, refusing to answer.
“But oh, no,” Master said with a faux pout. “My pup doesn’t have any naughty balls to beat the bad attitude out of it, does it?”
The pup was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, thighs trembling as it fought not to close them around Master’s waist. Every few moments, its tcock would twitch upwards, attentively, begging for attention even though the pup kept its face firmly covered.
“N-no,” came the quiet voice from behind the fingers.
“No . . . . what?” Master teased, sliding his hands under the pup’s knees and pushing its legs up in the air.
The pup squeaked, its hole letting out a trickle of eager slick.
He almost couldn’t hear the pup behind its paws.
“No . . . the pup doesn’t have any balls.”
Master smiled.
“I wonder what other ways there are of getting rid of my pup’s attitude, hm?” he said. “Come on. You had so many ideas for that naughty little brat. Where’s your creativity when it’s talking about a naughty pup.”
The pup let out a huff, still not taking its paws away from its face. It did move its fingers so that it wasn’t covering its mouth so much, but that was it.
“‘M not naughty,” it protested.
Master pretended to think about that.
“I guess I’ll have to come up with a few ideas of my own,” he said with a sly smirk.
With a firm grip on the pup’s hips, he dragged it firmly down onto his lap, making it squeak in surprise. He leaned over it, bending down to press his mouth to the pup’s ribs, keeping its hips pinned in place and listening to the pup gasp in surprise.
It arched off the bed, pressing into his touch, but with his firm grip, the pup couldn’t hump or grind down.
It moaned as he trailed his mouth downwards, smiling against the fuzz of its belly before kissing the band aid that had been pressed there a day or so earlier.
“Drippy, drippy pup,” he teased. “I think I know the source of your attitude, even if you don’t have any balls to match.”
He knew he managed to move the pup’s paws from its face as he wrapped his lips around the not little nub of its tcock and he felt fingers in his hair, making him smile around the mouthful as the pup keened needily.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, the vibrations humming against the pup’s parts, and the pup’s thighs shook, clamping closed around his ears. The paws on his head scrabbled uselessly, desperate to try and push him away while some other part of the pup knew how wrong it was to try and stop him from doing what he wanted.
Its hips jerked upwards, but all Master had to do was press them back down, pinning the pup to the blankets and letting him do his work.
He pulled off the pup’s cock for a moment, chuckling as it twitched in the open air, shiny with spit and slick and flushed red.
“Awee, poor pup,” he said with a tut. “Is this what’s making you act out so much?”
He pressed a firm kiss to it, laughing as the pup moaned and tried to grind against his face.
“How long has it been again?”
The pup’s paws were still in his hair, which was one of the only reasons that Master knew he’d be able to get an answer out of it.
The pup’s voice was shaky, trembling just like the rest of it as it panted.
“Don’t . . . . don’t remember,” it said with a mournful whine.
Master smiled.
“Isn’t that a shame,” he said with a faux pout.
“P-Please!” the pup gasped, pawing weakly at his head. Even Master couldn’t tell if the pup was trying to push or pull him away.
“My poor little pup who’s forgotten how to cum,” Master said, tugging the pup back down as it tried to squirm again. “Now there’s a good story, don’t you think?”
The pup was whining, sniffling a little as it continued to try and buck its hips upwards, searching for his mouth again.
“Haven’t . . . . haven’t forgotten how,” it protested. “You don’t let me.”
Master hummed. All he had to do was lean forward an inch to get his mouth back on the pup’s tcock to silence it, making it mewl and whine and bounce. Its paws remained in his hair, tugging, trying to fight it, but Master knew just how much to push his pup and how far was too far.
And what wasn’t far enough.
“I don’t let you,” he repeated, mumbling around the pup. “That sounds pretty mean of me.” He pulled back from the pup, making it wail. Master looked up at it, smirking as he licked his lips. “That sounds like a mean pup I happen to know.”
The pup managed to narrow its eyes down at him, getting ready to stick out its bottom lip.
As Master pushed himself up, the pup yanked its paws away with a squeak of alarm, getting ready to clamp them over its face again.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Master said.
He had to move fast.
He grabbed the pup’s arms, pinning its wrists and not letting it escape. With his other hand, he gripped the pup’s chin, tugging its chin so that it was forced to look him in the eye.
“Now, pup,” Master chided. “If I let your paws back near the keyboard, what are you going to do?”
The pup whined, unable to hide as Master leaned over it. With the position, he was able to prop a knee between its legs, smirking as the pup’s hips rolled, rutting its tcock against the rough fabric.
“F-Fine,” the pup said, cheeks flushed. “I’ll let him cum.”
“Good boy,” Master said with a smile.
The pup whined as he pulled his leg away, leaving it to hump the air uselessly. Master didn’t let it stay free for long.
He pulled it into his arms, scooping it up, chuckling to himself as the pup immediately moved to nuzzle into his neck. He stopped that with a fist in its hair, tugging it back and not letting it hide.
“Come on, I think you’ve had too much of a break,” he said. “And there are even more parts of you that are getting much too distracted.”
The pup whined but didn’t argue, just stuck out its bottom lip in a pout that didn’t go unnoticed by Master. He just didn’t acknowledge it right away.
“Maybe if you make some decent progress,” Master said. “And treat the brat very nicely, I’ll have a treat for you tonight.”
He didn’t have to reach a hand between its legs to know that its parts were sopping and its little tcock was still twitching eagerly.
The pup huffed a bit, but didn’t argue.
It did whine when they returned to the office again and Master had to untangle its paws from around his waist and out of his shirt. He had to lean down, letting gravity and the pup’s own failing strength slowly peel it out of his arm, and he let it plop back in its seat.
“Stay,” he ordered sternly when the pup made a move to scramble off the chair and back into his lap.
He collected the pup’s gag and its blindfold, ignoring its pout when it realized that any sort of break it had had was truly over.
“Paws,” he said.
The pup hesitated, pushing its luck until the very last second before resting its paws on the desk, letting Master buckle and lock the cuffs, once again trapping it at the keyboard.
“Mouth,” he said next, easing the gag into the pup’s eager mouth and buckling that on as well.
It wasn’t like the pup was very verbal anyway, but now its whines were muffled. The last thing Master had to do was cover the wet, watery eyes that were blinking up at him, the last bit of begging the pup was attempting.
The pup squeaked as Master reached between its legs, squirming as Master spread it open and pressed the fat head of the vibrator directly against its tcock.
With a click, it started buzzing, making the pup jerk and quake, thighs shivering at the stimulation as it squirmed. Instinctively, its fingers flexed for the keys, paws straining as its conditioning made its imagination go wild.
Master chuckled and gave its head one last pat.
“Good boy,” he said.
Maybe, next time, he would get a pair of headphones as well, truly remove the rest of the pup’s senses so that it could properly concentrate. Although, Master had a sneaking suspicion that the pup was much more productive when it could hear him in the room with it.
He returned to his own desk, pulling his own keyboard back into place, listening to the clatter of keys, interrupted by a sharp intake of breath whenever the pup inevitably stumbled and was corrected for a mistake.
What a productive pup.