Martian was annoyed that her excitement had stopped halfway through. Ron rubbed his forehead against her shoulder – one of the few gestures of affection he knew. Martian pressed down on the marks inside Ron’s thighs where the cane had left bruises.

“Hnngh, huff…”

Ron endured the pain and looked at the Count sitting across from them. Ron remembered well the day Martian had lost herself in him – how she had gotten carried away in her excitement and lost herself completely.

Had he been someone within the boundaries she allowed herself, Ron would have been the one to be pushed aside at that moment.

But it was Huey, not him, who had been rejected – and it was Ron who remained by her side. Clumsily, Ron pulled her closer, his breath ragged as he whispered.

“Because… I can take it… Master…”

He reached out with trembling hands and carefully removed the hairpin from the back of her head.

It was a thick, sturdy, stick-like ornament used to hold her hair up. Ron shifted his body slightly backwards, revealing his still semi-*rect p*nis that had been crushed under her knee.

Gripping it with one hand, he squeezed out the words with what courage he had left.

“You… can… use… this… to… stick… it… in.”

Martian hesitated for a moment. Inserting objects into his urethra was something Ron had always struggled with. She didn’t know what had caused his sudden boldness, but she didn’t find it unpleasant either.

Still, she wasn’t the kind of owner to give in to her dog’s wishes so easily. She rose to her feet.

“You are greedy for someone to be punished.”

At her remark, Ron’s spirit immediately deflated. Martian spoke to the shrinking dog.

“Do it yourself. I’ll watch.”

She moved to the opposite sofa – the one next to where Huey was sitting. As she sat down, she looked sideways at him.

His cr*tch was even more swollen than before. Clearly he had been aroused by watching her crush Ron’s p*nis under her knee.

“Lady Doan.”

He called to her in a low, thick voice, trembling with excitement. Martian replied coolly.

“Do you still want to be my dog?”

“I… I can… I’m capable enough…”

“Oh, is that so? Then you’d best start taking lessons from my concubine here. I don’t have any use for incompetent dogs who can’t do anything.”

At these words, Huey’s expression changed. His pride – inevitable given his noble birth – wouldn’t allow him to accept being treated the same as Ron.

As she had intended, he closed his mouth and said nothing more. Martian turned away from him with ease.

To be honest, she felt a pang of regret. Had she been able to tame someone like him – to train his body as well as his mind – it would have brought her immense pleasure. If only his status had been less troublesome.

While Martian entertained such thoughts, Ron positioned himself, cane in hand. Huey rose stiffly from his seat, his face clearly showing his displeasure.

“I’ll take my leave. There’s no need for me to watch this.”

***

Martian handed her cloak to the butler as she entered the Doan estate. The butler looked startled and confused.

The banquet at the Count’s estate had been scheduled for three days – and usually, including travel time and optional excursions, guests stayed at least five days. Yet she had returned after only three.

“My lady, why did you return so soon? Has something happened…?”

“Something has happened. Prepare a bath for me immediately. I want to rest.”

She dismissed the butler’s concerns with a brief apology and went up to her bedroom. The servants hurried to prepare hot water for her. Without a word, she bathed.

The hot water only increased her tiredness – a complicated, heavy tiredness. Even when she lay down on the bed, sleep didn’t come easily.

One by one, memories of what she had done at the Count’s mansion flooded her mind. Her mind became sharper instead of duller.

‘What was I thinking… behaving like that?’

Huey Sebloard was the heir to a ducal house. Someone so prominent that the Emperor himself had given him a title and land.

And yet she had humiliated him, mocked him, dragged Ron out and put on a show for him. It felt as if the effects of the wine she’d drunk were catching up with her now, causing her emotions to fluctuate uncontrollably.

“I should have just played dumb and pretended to be intimidated…”

Had she done that, Huey’s interest would have waned immediately.

Instead, she had done nothing but provoke him – to scratch at that massive ego.

Of course, a single heir, even to a powerful ducal family, couldn’t dismantle a loyal noble house like hers overnight. But he could easily make her life uncomfortable, annoying and miserable. Such was the pettiness and filth of power.

“Mother was right. She warned me that my temperament would get me into serious trouble one day…”

Martian muttered to himself, sighing with self-reproach. Just then Ron entered the bedroom. His hair was damp, suggesting he had washed.

Wearing only a thin robe, he hesitated for a moment, then crawled to her side and bowed low.

“Master, I… I haven’t been given permission to remove it yet…”

His body shook slightly as he spoke. Martian sat up on the bed.

Still stewing in her own regret over what had happened at the banquet, she found herself feeling mischievous.She pressed down hard on the back of Ron’s head with her foot.

“You were the one who begged me to destroy you earlier, and now you’re whining?”

“It’s been so… so long… Master…”

His voice was almost a whimper. After all, she had left the cane in his urethra since they left the Count’s mansion.

“Take off your trousers.”

She ordered, keeping her foot on his head.

Obediently, Ron reached back and pulled off his trousers.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath, exposing his bare, flushed bottom.

Martian teased his neck and ear with her toes, and Ron shuddered at each small touch – not because he enjoyed pain, but because even the slightest stimulation aroused him. She stood up and looked down at his raised bottom.

“You know, it’s your fault I did things I shouldn’t have.”

“Y-yes, Master… I’m sorry…”

As she positioned herself behind him, Ron naturally lifted his hips higher. He spread his legs wider, using one hand to hold his fully *rect p*nis so that it was clearly visible between his thighs.

At the tip of his gl*ns, the small ‘flower’ of the urethral plug still shone.

Just as he had wanted at the banquet, Martian had made him fully aroused – and then plugged his urethra with her hairpin.

“Master… please… please…”

Ron had been like that since their return. While he had managed to stay stiff in the carriage, back at the manor, he could no longer stand it.

Exposing himself and shaking like that was extremely stimulating to watch. Martian allowed herself to slowly savour the pleasure.

Here, in her familiar room, with her familiar dog – the unpleasant memories of the Count’s mansion began to fade.

‘Better this than wasting time on pointless regrets.’

She opened the drawer by the bed. Inside were the tools she often used. Hearing the sounds of her rummaging, Ron shivered visibly.

He was already close to his limit. If she pulled the plug, he would do anything she asked.

He even felt the desperate urge to beg – but he knew better than to open his mouth without permission.

After a while, something nudged Ron’s cheek. When he raised his head, Martian was waving what she was holding: A strap-on with a fake phallus attached.

“If you want something…you have to pay the price.”

Martian tapped Ron’s cheek again with the protruding fake phallus. He let out a small whimper and looked up at her obediently. Fortunately, the tool she had brought today had phalluses attached to both the inside and the outside of the belt.

This type of tool didn’t just stimulate the receiving side – it also easily aroused the wearer.

When Martian wanted to control her dog over a long period of time, she used a belt with only an external phallus; but when she wanted to enjoy herself, she used one like this – with both.

“How things go today is entirely up to you.”

She said as she strapped the belt around her waist. The inner phallus slid inside her as she fastened it, and the thick, knobbly outer phallus bobbed upright in front of her.

It was a size and length that would be extremely painful without extensive training – but Ron had been thoroughly trained under her.

Martian grabbed a bottle of lube, squirted it over the toy and rubbed it along its surface. The outer phallus swayed under her touch, causing the inner one to move slightly as well.

A dull, throbbing stimulation made her exhale softly.

“Take everything off and get on the bed.”

Leaning against a pillow, Martian settled on the mattress. She continued to spread the smooth lubricant over the phallus with slow strokes, feeling faint waves of sensation.

“What are you waiting for? Come here.”

At her words, Ron moved again. Each time he crawled forward on his knees, his *rect p*nis bobbed painfully – the hard foreign object embedded in his urethra making him hyperaware of every movement.

As soon as he straddled her thighs, Martian grabbed his p*nis.

“M-Master… hhk!”

She grabbed the decorative ‘flower’ attached to his gl*ns, and gave it a teasing little tug.

Ron clutched desperately at the head of the bed to keep from collapsing. His vision darkened, tears slipping from his eyes.

The long neglected sensitivity of his *rousal was painfully unbearable.

As his *rection began to falter, Martian stopped her teasing movements.

She reached out and gently stroked his sweat-soaked back, feeling it tense and twitch at her touch. Her hand slid lower, teasing the base of his spine.

“I won’t remove it until I’m satisfied.”

“Hhngh… M-Master…”

Ron whispered desperately, trembling lips pressed to her ear. Ignoring his pleas, Martian gripped his b*ttocks tightly with her fingers. She squeezed hard, making him gasp, then she bent him over against her shoulder, forcing him to cling and beg even harder.

This desperate clinging, his pathetic attempts to win her favour,

only added to her *rousal.

Slap!
Martian smacked his b*ttocks sharply with her palm.

“If you want to get it out, you’d better start pleasing me. Sit properly and move.”

Panting, Ron lowered himself onto the phallus attached to her belt. Because it hadn’t been loosened properly, it was much harder to swallow than usual.

Any movement caused the phallus to shift inside him -aggravating the foreign sensation still lodged deep in his urethra.

Though he tried to move, his tortured and exhausted body made it almost impossible.

His movements became sluggish. By now the lubricant had begun to dry, making the surface sticky and increasing the friction against his sensitive inner walls.