Postures New

I wrote this story last year for Kinktober 2025 (day 16; the prompt words were Discipline/Posture). It contains bondage, humiliation, and BDSM activities. Reader discretion is advised.

You're bratting again.

"Hahahaha," you laugh, unconvincingly. "I don't obey you!"

We both know this is untrue. You love to obey me. You're an obedient little slut. But I accept your premise at face value.

"You don't? Oh dear. Then it sounds to me like someone is in need of correction."

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you. Put your hands behind your back."

"No!"

This is going to be fun. I pounce, grab you and toss you on the bed. Then I'm on top, pinning your wrists down and smiling down at your furious little face. You wriggle and thrash, but I'm a lot stronger than you. You're powerless, and the only thing your squirming is doing is giving me pleasure.

"Get the fuck off me!"

"If you don't obey me, I don't see why I should obey you, dummy."

"You're hurting me!"

"I think you'll be okay."

I stretch your arms up over your head, then roll you over on to your front. Your arms come back down, and I cross your wrists - high up, between your shoulder blades. I quickly bind them together. And just like that, you've lost.

"How's that feel, princess?"

"Bad! Untie me!"

"Tie you tighter? Sure thing, toots!"

I lift your torso off the bed so I can loop rope underneath, creating a tight harness around your chest and shoulders. Once this is connected to the bindings around your wrists, your arms become absolutely immovable, and escape impossible.

"Get up now, baby."

You grumble as I lift you effortlessly back to your feet. Feet clad, I'm pleased to see, in tall black stiletto heels. As instructed.

"Don't call me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want, baby. Now why don't you test out your lovely tight ropes? Tell me, are they comfortable?"

I can see you straining against your bonds, but I also know you're not strong enough or skilled enough to get loose.

"You know perfectly well it's not comfortable. And it's far too tight."

"Aww, poor baby. Well, you'll just have to put up with it, won't you? Because it's good for your posture."

By posture, I mean the way your body is held rigidly straight and upright, head up, bum stuck out behind and tits jutting out in front. You're a delightful sight, and I'm particularly enjoying the way your breasts are straining to escape from that thin white shirt.

"Now go and fetch me a drink."

You look into my eyes, trying to tell if I'm being serious. I am.

"I'm not getting your drink. I'm not your servant."

"That's exactly what you are. Obey me, or I'll punish you."

"Get it yourself, moron."

SMACK!

"Ow!"

You recoil from the hard spank on your bum.

"What are you doing? You can't spank me!"

"Of course I can."

SMACK!

"Ow! Stop that!"

"Go and get my drink."

SMACK!

"Ow! Fine, okay, I'll get your drink. Just stop spanking me!"

"That's my good girl. Be quick, now."

You stumble over to the table, no easy task with your arms bound so tightly and awkwardly behind your back and six-inch heels on your feet. Then twist around and half-kneel so your bound hands can fumble around and eventually locate my glass of wine. You stand up, unsteadily, and totter back to me.

"What happened? You've spilled half of it!"

"It might have been easier if you hadn't bound my hands, dumbass."

"I don't agree, bimbo. I think the problem was that you weren't motivated enough."

I pull a broad leather strap out of my pocket, and beckon you to turn around and come closer.

"What's that?"

"Something to help encourage you to behave."

I place the collar around your neck and buckle it in place. It's so high that your chin is lifted proudly into the air. I chuckle.

"Now that's what I call posture. Very good, baby."

"Take it off! I can't see where I'm walking!"

"You're a bit of a slow learner aren't you, dummy?"

SMACK!

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Disobedience. Are you ready to do what you're told?"

"No!"

SMACK!

"Ow! Stop that!"

"Walk to the door and back. Keep your back straight and your head up. If I'm not impressed with your posture, I'll punish you."

"I don't want to!"

"Do you want to be spanked again?"

"Okay okay, fine. I'll do it."

"You mean, 'Yes, sir.'"

"Yes... sir."

You totter unsteadily to the door. I'm delighted to see that your chin stays up, your back straight, your tits out. Like a soldier on parade. Except, possibly, for the tits part.

"Pick up your feet, slut."

"I'm not a pony!"

"Do I need to-"

"I'm sorry, I mean yes, sir."

The feet come up. Nice high steps. Such obedience! I know you enjoy that humiliating switch from defiance to submission. You're my servant, now.

"You can come back now, baby."

You're a little pink around the cheeks. Partly from the effort, and partly because you're turned on from the bullying.

"So I'll ask you again. Are you my obedient servant?"

Eyes down submissively. The blush deepens.

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl. And now we've got that settled, there's no need for you to speak any more, is there?"

"No, sir."

And your mouth is already open before I start loosening my tie.

FIN