The chain tightened, tugging painfully at his n*pples. If he lowered himself completely, the flesh would tear. Caught on the edge of unbearable pain, Ron didn’t know what to do.

“The dog won’t listen.”

Keeping her grip on the chain, Martian pulled a stick from inside her cloak. It was a switch, just over fifty centimetres long – the kind nobles carried to discipline their personal servants.

Unlike ordinary switches, this one had a rounded, leather-covered end with a hard core inside to increase the pain.

With a sharp whistle through the air, the cane struck the inside of Ron’s thigh.

“Ron. Kneel.”

Her voice was cold with reproach. Ron tried to lower himself further, but his position only became more uncomfortable. The tight chain tugged mercilessly at his n*pples, threatening to tear the flesh.

Another sharp slap rang out – and another – and another. Three quick blows landed in quick succession.

Ron, paralysed and unable to react, simply took the blows. Martian lifted his p*nis with the end of the switch, clearly indicating where the next blow would land.

“Behave like a dog. Don’t think. Don’t resist.”

She spoke. Ron bit his lips hard.

When he lowered himself a little more, the pain increased sharply.

Martian wanted more. The moment Ron gritted his teeth and lowered himself completely, she released the chain.

Without the support, Ron lost his balance and collapsed to the floor.

A faint groan escaped him.

“Good. You must obey.”

Martian pressed her boot firmly against Ron’s back. As frustrating and irritating as he could be at times, Ron was still a lovely dog – even when he feared tearing his flesh, he chose obedience.

In his loyalty, he was like a true dog. Still pressing down between his shoulder blades, she lashed his back a few more times with the switch.

“Hhngh…”

Soon her blows hit his b*ttocks, leaving new marks over the already bruised areas.

“Ron. Do you know why you’re being punished?”

Another blow landed in the middle of his back. If she used the weighted end of the switch correctly, it felt like being hit with a fist.

Unable to stand the pain, Ron made no reply.

Martian lifted her foot from his back and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling him upright.

“When asked a question, you answer.”

“Hh, hngh, because I didn’t obey fast enough…”

Martian hooked her finger back into the chain on his chest.

A sharp breath escaped Ron.

She tugged on the chain and began to pull him towards Huey.

Ron stumbled along on his knees, crawling, until at some point he resisted. Realising that she was going to display him in front of someone else, he instinctively fought back.

As he struggled and she pulled harder, his swollen, tortured n*pples stretched to their limit.

When he closed his eyes, feeling that his flesh might tear, she let go of the chain.

“I thought your training had progressed better than this.”

Martian muttered, then slapped Ron’s cheek. The pats quickly escalated into firm slaps. It was her bad habit -when she was in a bad mood, her touch became rough.

Ron gritted his teeth.

Another hard slap – this one hard enough to shake his body.

“How many slaps do you want today?”

At these words, Ron opened his eyes and looked nervously at her -and then at Huey, sitting across from them. Obviously, the presence of another was bothering him.

That explained his stubborn resistance. He was embarrassed to be exposed so publicly.

Martian made no effort to hide her irritation. A dog preoccupied with the eyes of outsiders, refusing to obey its master is unforgivable. Especially Ron, of all dogs. She touched Ron’s hair again.

“You’ve forgotten how to concentrate on your master, have you?”

Pulling him by the hair, she dragged him in front of Huey. Ron, crawling on his knees, stumbled and fell several times until he was finally pushed down in front of Huey. By then his knees were red and scraped.

Huey winced at the sight of the panting, battered Ron. Martian could feel her anger simmering again.

She was irritated at Huey for not understanding rejection, but even more at Ron for his pathetic disobedience. At first she’d stripped Ron just to humiliate him in front of Huey – but now it had become something else.

Now it was a lesson. A lesson for a dog who had forgotten his place.

And if she used Huey’s presence as part of that education, so be it.

Huey was the one begging to be a dog anyway. Martian spoke sharply to Ron.

“From now on, if you resist even a little, I’ll throw you out.”

Only then did Ron’s expression change. She had never openly said she would leave him before. Martian left him alone – because this wasn’t an empty threat.

Ron was far too disappointing at that moment to be considered her dog. Ron crawled towards her, clinging desperately.

“Master, I… I was wrong… Hhk!”

Martian slapped his cheek mercilessly.

“If you were wrong, take your punishment first. Go bury your head in the sofa and position yourself properly. Lift your bottom towards me.”

At her command, Ron crawled over to the opposite sofa. Martian watched him get into position, then turned her head towards Huey.

Huey’s cr*tch had swelled noticeably, aroused by the scene unfolding before him.

Truly, a dog driven entirely by his own lust. Martian laughed and asked.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Looks like you’re beating your dog.”

“Which part of the dog?”

At her question, Huey’s gaze shifted to Ron. Ron had his head buried deep in the sofa, his hips raised high. It was an awkward pose – but more than that, he was spreading his own b*ttocks with both hands, exposing everything for all to see.

Martian swung the cane she was holding lightly.

“Have you ever been whipped on your hole?”

Huey’s expression stiffened slightly at the words. Of course. Even someone who claimed to want to be a ‘dog’ would find it difficult to endure being whipped there.

Even masochists who enjoyed pain would find this kind of whipping extremely difficult to endure.

Someone used to nothing more than light play with pr*stitutes would have no immunity to such intense, humiliating punishment.

Martian smiled slightly.

“If you’re a dog, you must be prepared to offer every part of your body to your master.”

To be able to deliver such a beating was in itself a symbol of absolute dominance. So this was both a threat to Huey and the harshest punishment she could inflict on Ron.

Seeing Ron tremble and Huey hesitate, Martian felt a small wave of satisfaction.

“I enjoy inflicting pain on my dogs, so this kind of whipping happens often.”

With that she approached Ron. His body jerked as he felt her approach.

Standing at the perfect distance for a beating, Martian ran the tip of her cane along the crack of Ron’s b*ttocks. Without looking back, she spoke again.

“A dog must take any beating he’s given quietly and obediently.”

She could feel Huey’s eyes on her intensely. Martian swung the stick deliberately, hitting Ron right on his exposed hole. The blow was much harder than usual – because this was punishment.

“Hhhuuuhh!! Hhngh! One…”

Ron gasped, struggling to hold back his screams. Her wand moved again. Another sharp stroke echoed through the room.

“T-two… Hhhngh…”

Barely able to stand the pain, Ron could only croak out the numbers. His fingertips had gone pale from clenching his hands so tightly. Martian swung again, again and again. The brutal sound of flesh being struck filled the room.

“Hhngh… E-eight…”

His voice trembled violently. The blows came slowly, but each one was heavy, deliberately brutal -designed to break the dog’s endurance.

After more than fifteen blows, Ron could no longer keep his hands in position and let go of his own spread cheeks.

The blows now fell on his b*ttocks and thighs. Between sobs he cried out for forgiveness. As he struggled to spread himself again, Martian delivered three quick blows in a row.

The blows were merciless and Ron collapsed once more. His hole had swollen bright red from the punishment.

“Hhngh, M-Master… hhh…”

He cried, overwhelmed. The pain was far worse than any ordinary beating he had received before – but the real agony came from not knowing when it would end.

If there was no set number of strokes, the punishment could go on indefinitely. Martian could be endlessly cruel if she wanted to. Ron somehow managed to regain his position, but after twenty strokes his posture collapsed again.

“Hhngh, I-I’m sorry… Master, hhngh…”

He lifted his hips again, but his hands, sweaty from the pain, kept slipping as he tried to spread himself. Seeing his swollen, inflamed hole, Martian finally released him from his position and ordered him to sit properly on the sofa.

“Hhk, th-thank you… hhh… thank you…”

Ron’s face was a mess of tears. As his bruised b*ttocks and thighs touched the sofa, he let out a small, pitiful whimper. His face had relaxed slightly, thinking the punishment was over.

Martian tapped his chest lightly with the cane. The ring attached to his chest swayed, jingling faintly.

“Put your feet on the sofa. Spread your legs wide. Make sure everything between them is exposed.”

Only then did Ron realise the punishment wasn’t over. Tears welled up again but he obeyed and positioned himself as instructed.

His p*nis and t*sticles were shamefully exposed. Ron glanced once at the Count sitting opposite them and at Martian standing in front of him – then instinctively bowed his head in humiliation.

At that moment, Martian lightly tapped his p*nis with his cane.

“Keep your head up.”

Tense, Ron immediately raised his head again. The cane brushed lightly across his scrotum and perineum, then suddenly struck his p*nis. Pain overwhelmed his shame.

“Aghh!! Hhngh! Hhff…”

Ron clawed at the sofa, his body shaking violently. Even his spread thighs trembled – but he didn’t close his legs. He had been well trained, at least in maintaining his posture.

Although the blows continued, Ron held out, even as red welts ran down his p*nis.

Finally, Martian climbed onto the sofa and pressed her knee between Ron’s legs.

His battered, swollen g*nitals were crushed under her knee, causing him to moan and call out to her.

“Hhhngh, Master… hhff… hhh…”

“What a shame. If we were in the Doan compound I would have destroyed you completely.”

Martian said as she pressed harder on his beaten, swollen p*nis.

If this had been her room, she would have strapped something on and ruined Ron’s sore, battered hole without hesitation.