Authors note: Protagonist is aged 20, Master is aged 35. This is written as internal monologue, so personal details and exposition were left out.

I am in a park, sitting on the soft grass next to the picnic table, the cool breeze of the summer night caresses my flaccid penis, and snakes it’s way up bare chest under my zipped up hoodie. I am naked from the waist down, apart from my sneakers. I shift my weight and the soft jangling of my leash cuts through the otherwise quiet of the midnight air, making it seem all the more loud to my nervous ears.

The sound of a throat clearing grabs my attention and I look up, but it’s just my Master coughing up some phlegm. He coughs some more then spits on the ground next to me. I glance up at him, wondering if he had been aiming for me, but I see him smiling kindly as he takes another drag from his cigarette. He reaches for me and I lean in as he pats my head and tousles my hair causing a wave of happiness to wash over me and warm me from the inside. I rise to my knees and rest my head against his lap, he continues to pet my head as he finishes his smoke.

“Come on boy, let’s keep going. Gotta make sure you get your exercise!” he chuckles as he gets to his feet. He stretches a bit giving me time to get to my feet before he starts walking. The leash pulls tight as I trail behind him, my shrunken penis retracting in the breeze. I try to pull my hoodie down and cover myself as I scan around for anyone looking but my Master quickly yanks on my chain causing me to reel forward and fall to my hands and knees.

“What did I tell you about covering yourself, you stupid mutt? How am I supposed to train you when you continue to disobey me?” He pulls my leash up so I’m looking up at him, his face stern and domineering.

“I-I’m sorry Master, I’m just nervous… Please don’t be angry with me!” My voice is timid and shaky as I wait for whatever punishment he has waiting for me.

“Get up on your feet, let’s go.” He begins walking before I have a chance to get up, so I’m left scrambling to get my feet under me. By the time I’m able to walk properly I notice we are no longer on the trail, but instead heading into the forested area. My knees begin to shake as I dread what is to come. We stop when we get to an empty space surrounded by thick bushes and trees, the grass in the middle is permanently flattened by what I can only assume is countless people using this area as a hook-up spot. Master drags me by my leash to one of the bigger trees in the border and commands me to stand still, facing it. He removes my leash, and unzips my hoodie leaving me all but naked and exposed to the air, my nipples tighten up instantly in reaction to the sudden cold as I wonder what fate I am to be dealt. I don’t have long to wait before he shoves me against the tree, the rough bark scratching into my soft skin and grating across my hard nipples. I cry out a little at the sudden pain, barely noticing my Master’s further movements. Next thing I realize, my leash is tied around my left hand, and Master is walking around the tree. He quickly grabs my right hand and ties it with the other end of the leash, effectively immobilizing me as I hug the tree.

In those brief moments following I had a moment of clarity, where I seemed to notice every detail around me. I could smell the sweet sap of the tree, feel the harsh bite of the cracked bark on my skin, I could hear the insects singing their nightly songs. The jingle of metal once again broke through, an unnatural sound amidst the choir of the night. This time, however, it was not the sound of my leash making the noise, it was the sound of Master unbuckling his belt.

“Please Master, I’m sorry! I promise I’ll be a good boy from now on, I swear!” I knew I pleaded on deaf ears. I had been a bad dog, and I knew I needed to be punished.

The sound of the belt cracking against my bare ass registered in me head, and for a moment I wondered if someone had fired a gun. By the time my brain was catching up, and I was feeling the searing burn of pain, three more whacks had been delivered. I cried out in torment as tears streamed down my face. The rest of my body reacted to the pain differently, and my once limp cock began to rise. As much as I hated it, I also loved it. Four, five, six whacks across my quickly bruising backside. But now I had to contend with pain of a different sort. Everytime the belt would strike me I would flinch, grating my flesh on the roughness of the tree. Now with my cock fully erect, the tip would also bump against it with every hit. I had no choice but to lean my ass out and accept my punishment. 20 whacks and my chest was just as raw and stinging as my ass. I could feel blood running down from where I had been leaning into the tree the hardest, and I felt a trickle running down the back of my legs from where my ass had taken the worst of the beating. I was crying, ready to just collapsed on the grass and curl up, but my hands were still bound around the tree.

My mind went into a daze as Master untied me, and gently lowered me to the ground. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from his jacket and brought the mouth of it to my lips. The burn of the liquid in my throat sent a numbness to my fingers and dulled the sting of my wounds. That is until Master began pouring it on my bleeding bum. I winced and yelped, but he put a soothing hand on my head and told me to relax. He brought the bottle to my lips again and I took a bigger gulp. Master took some bandaids from another of his jacket pockets and started dressing my wounds. It passed through my now buzzed brain that Master was like a boy scout of BDSM, always prepared for anything. I even managed a smile at the thought. Master went on to bandage my chest, after another healthy dose of the medicinal whiskey. When he was done he slumped against the base of the tree and took a drink, while I lay down next to him. I was physically drained, and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right there, but dawn wasn’t too far off and we had been out long enough.

Master got up and gathered up my leash. Helping me to my feet, my legs barely holding my weight, I leaned against the hugging tree for support. Master zipped up my hoodie and attached my leash to my collar. He placed his hand on my chin and raised my face up to look at him again.

“Now, are you going to be a good dog from now on? We would hate to have to go through this again” his voice sounded cheerful, but there was seriousness underneath.

“Yes Master, I’ll be a good boy!”

“And what do good dog’s say?”

“Woof!” I let out a bark, settling into my role.

“Good boy.” He raised his hand and tousled my hair in praise.

“Woof!” I let out another bark, this time happier, glad I was forgiven and happy I was being praised.

We walked back to the path, and retraced our way back home. There was a soft bed waiting for me, and I was eager to be rested for the new day ahead.

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