The punishment. 1 of 3.

It was a warm summer day. I was returning to my hotel in one of the cities I usually visit for work. As soon as I left the office I wrote to a puppy I have well domesticated in that city. The day before he had canceled a date on me because according to him a commitment had come up. It wasn't the first time. He deserved a punishment.

Seeing that spankings, temporary seclusions and other physical and psychological punishments weren't working since he had already canceled the date on me twice more during the year and a half we had been seeing each other, I had the corrective punishment to apply very clear in my mind. The first time you get a punishment to learn. The second time I escalate the reprisals hoping they'll be definitive, but a third warrants true fear taking hold of you.

I arrived at the room in mid-afternoon. The heat in the street was unbearable but the room was perfectly air-conditioned. I opened the mini bar and took out a can of beer. I was sweaty. My armpits and genital area smelled. I considered taking a shower and putting on a clean suit but I preferred to stay as I was. I left the jacket perfectly placed on the back of an armchair and grabbed my phone to order the puppy to come immediately.

After 15 minutes someone knocked at the door. I went to the entrance and opened. It was the dog. I had met him on a well-known app some time before. He was a 26-year-old brat. Medium-tall. Slim. With a wasp waist. Dark curly hair. Fleshy lips. He was from Venezuela. Sales clerk in a well-known low-cost clothing store. Generally he was accommodating and obedient but on rare occasions somewhat rebellious. That was intolerable.

I found the dog waiting standing behind the door. What lack of respect was that? I had taught him that he had to be on his knees when I opened. I grabbed him by his curly hair and pulled down hard. He knelt without resisting. When I expressed my anger about the day before's no-show and about not finding him in position when I opened the door, he came out with cheap excuses. That a friend of his needed him... that he had run into someone in the hotel hallway... I wasn't interested in his pathetic excuses! I slapped him across the face and he shut up. I had told him I didn't want to hear explanations. That I didn't want to listen to him. That he was forbidden to speak. If you fail I punish you. If you fail you pay for it. If you fail you make it up to me. Period.

I ordered him to undress. He was wearing one of the jockstraps I had bought him on another occasion and I checked whether he had put on the cage. In that he had obeyed me. I put the leash on him. The dog had come from work at the store so I pulled the leash until I put him in the shower. I turned on the cold water. Outside it was unbearably hot so I thought better of it and turned the water very hot. The dog protested. I silenced him with a slap on the back of the head. The dog opened his mouth. Good boy. I opened the fly...