Quick Update
There was a tie in the last poll, so Part 22 will be a bit longer than usual. As an FYI, the Chastity & Impurity series is now over 16.5k words in length. That means it's nearly a quarter of the way to a novel. I wanted to thank everyone for your continued interest in the story.
Part 22
You can click here to start from the beginning of the story or click here for the previous part.
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Anna’s smartphone flashed with Kat’s name rather quickly, the familiar serif font lending it an air of bureaucratic inevitability. Luka stood by the edge of the bed, jeans still around his ankles, hands awkwardly at his sides. He did not look up but had a feeling things were about to get awkward for him. Anna hesitated a second before answering, then put the phone on speaker, her voice practiced and steady: “Hello?”
Kat’s voice projected from the phone, smooth and professional. “Anna, good evening. I just received your message. Is everything okay?”
Anna crossed her legs, glanced at Luka, and said, “Thanks for calling. Sorry for the late hour.”
“I was just winding down,” Kat replied, “and discipline should always be delivered timely.” Kat’s voice held a brisk, clear note. “Before you implement any corrective measures. Was it a full emission?”
Anna looked pointedly at Luka’s damp, caged crotch and shook her head, a simple gesture, then realized she had to verbalize for the phone. “No. He made a mess with his leaking.”
Kat responded immediately, her tone instructional. “That sort of leakage is perfectly normal, Anna,” she said. “Sissies in chastity tend to exhibit excessive discharge, especially when their self-control is questionable. It’s often a reaction to both physical restraint and a lack of mature coping mechanisms. Was it involuntary or induced?” Kat asked. The question was cool, clinical.
Anna hesitated and aimed a look at Luka, who made no movement. Anna cleared her throat. “Induced. I guess.”
“How did the emission occur?” Kat’s question was proving as humiliating to Anna as it was Luka.
Anna ran a hand through her hair, squinting at the wall. “He had an, um, accident, when I…” Anna’s words trailed. She glanced at Luka and then continued. “When I had him… service me.” The tone of Anna’s admission contained obvious embarrassment.
Kat responded without missing a beat. “Anna, it’s important to remember, you have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she instructed. “Many women experience hesitation when prioritizing their own satisfaction, especially in the context of power shift. That is a socialization error, not a personal flaw. I would encourage you to lean into it.” The word choice was deliberate, and the overlapping silence briefly magnified Luka’s discomfort.
Kat’s voice grew firmer, but not unkind. “Sexual satisfaction is a natural part of a dominant’s repertoire—and a reward for both parties. Never apologize for requiring pleasure from your sissy.” She raised the volume slightly for Luka’s benefit: “The sooner both of you accept that, the more effective the long-term training. We can discuss this further in our next appointment.”
Anna nodded at the screen reflexively. “Thank you, Doctor. There was just a lot more,” she said, glancing at the darkening spot on Luka’s underwear, “leaking than I expected. I did not know what you might constitute as a... release.”
“The body adapts to its new normal,” Kat explained. "It's common for sissies in chastity to experience increased leakage, especially during the initial stages of training. It's a physical response to the constraints and a lack of self-control." Luka stood motionless, his face reddening at the humiliating explanation.
Anna shifted her position on the bed, her gaze flicking between Luka and the phone. "I see," she said, her tone carefully neutral. "So, what should I do about it?"
Kat wasted no time. “Spank him.” Her voice was so calm, so devoid of drama or hesitation, it sounded less like a suggestion and more like an item on an agenda. “He needs to understand there are consequences.”
Anna’s face shifted, the briefest flicker of shock tightening her brow, but she recovered instantly. “Are you serious?” she asked, shocked by the suggestion.
Kat’s voice was relentless. “Sit on the edge of the bed. Make him lie across your lap.”
Anna nodded. “Okay,” she murmured, still unsure. “I just didn’t expect—”
“Of course not. But that’s the point. Luka needs to feel your authority. And so do you.”
Anna looked at Luka and, for a split second, her voice returned to its natural register. “Come here,” she said, not harsh but not soft either. Luka shuffled forward, the bunched denim at his ankles making his steps slow and small.
Anna spoke into the phone, “You want me to do this while you’re still on the line?”
Kat’s answer came sharp and clean: “Yes. I’ll guide you.”
Anna sat on the edge of the bed. She gestured to Luka, who stood directly in front of her now. His hands trembled, and he was struggling with whether to look her in the eye or avoid her gaze entirely.
“Bend over my lap,” Anna ordered, her voice firmer than she expected. She found herself surprised at how naturally the command came.
Luka hesitated, then obeyed. His body was stiff as he positioned himself and folded his body awkwardly over Anna’s thighs, his face burning so brightly it was nearly radioactive. He braced himself with his palms on the comforter, breathing in short, uneven bursts.
“Hold his back with your left hand,” Kat instructed. “Use your right hand for the punishment.”
Anna positioned herself as instructed. “Okay,” she whispered.
Kat began a slow count: “Five strokes. Not hard enough to bruise, but firm enough to sting.” Kat’s voice resumed over the phone without delay. “Luka, you will count each stroke aloud and thank Anna for her correction. Understood?”
Luka nodded against Anna’s thigh, then remembered the phone. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Kat’s voice was unyielding. “The first stroke, Anna. Go ahead.”
Anna looked at her palm, measured the distance, and delivered a sharp slap to the exposed rear end bent over her lap. The sound was crisp. Luka’s shoulders flinched.
“One. Thank you, Anna.” Luka’s voice was taut.
Anna shook her head. “No. Try again.”
Luka blinked twice, jaw working soundlessly. His head drifted up, puzzled, but he did not move from Anna’s lap. Anna cleared her throat, then spoke in a hard, teacherly timbre. “I said, try again.”
Luka hesitated, then with anxiety he corrected his response. “One. Thank you…, Mistress,” he said, the word foreign and clumsy but unmistakably real.
A shiver of pleasure ran through Anna. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to hear it, how right it felt.
Kat’s voice flowed warm through the phone’s speaker, unwavering and clear: “Excellent, Anna. That is precisely the tone and expectation you must set. Sissies require language that reinforces their subordinate status. Continue.”
Anna drew her hand back and delivered a second slap, with more force. A sharp report that echoed in the bedroom. Luka’s body jerked. “Two. Thank you, Mistress,” he said, his voice trembling.
A third slap cracked against Luka’s backside, this time landing squarely on already-reddening skin. A hiss escaped Luka, but he answered with the same careful cadence: “Three. Thank you, Mistress.”
Anna checked Luka’s reaction, hesitated just a breath, then delivered the fourth strike. The sound was clean and sharp. Luka’s head turned to the side, his breathing quickening and audible. “Four. Thank you, Mistress.” His words trembled but the script held.
Kat’s voice proceeded: “Last one, Anna. Make it memorable.”
Anna’s hand paused, then she brought it down with a measured finality. The slap almost sounded like a gunshot. Luka’s whole body stiffened. The fifth count came slowly: “Five. Thank you, Mistress.”
Silence lingered for a moment.
Continue with the next installment of the story.