“Amy, Amy, Amy,” I sighed. “How many times have we been in this same position now?”

“Many times, Master.”

Amy Richards knelt on the floor in front of me as I sat in my recliner in the living room of my home. Amy was my submissive, and I her Master. However, her submission was still a difficult concept for her to put into practice. Her heart was in it, but her mind and will still needed a little convincing!

“Yes, we have. For various reasons, I’ll grant you. You seem to always find new ways to get into trouble!”

“I’m sorry I’m so much trouble, Master.”

“Well, I was warned that you’d be a handful. Your former owner told me that you had trouble following his rules and commands. Apparently, you have authority issues and he said you required disciplinary actions on a regular basis.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“He eventually got tired of trying to get you on the straight and narrow and just let you go. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Sir. He took his collar back and freed me. It was terrible, Master.” Her voice quivered as she remembered that awful day.

“Yes, when a submissive has become too much trouble for their worth and is made a free woman, it’s like leaving a three-year-old alone in a big empty building with the lights out. It is scary and she doesn’t know what to do or where to turn. She is lost – emotionally and psychologically – and until she finds another to serve, is out of place and has no grounding. She’s a kite in a hurricane.

“You were lucky, Amy, that your former Master still had feelings for you. He may not have been able to deal with your rebellious nature, but he knew me and thought that maybe I could make something out of you.”

“Yes, Master. I’m glad he did and I’m grateful that you took me in. Thank you for that.”

“Amy, I have known of other submissives that when they were let go like you were, never found their way back. They were lost and a couple of them even committed suicide because they felt like they were just worthless unwanted trash. Others turned from The Life and never returned.”

“That’s awful Master. So sad.”

“Indeed. I hate to see a submissive with potential not put it to use – especially when she knows it’s what she wants and needs. It’s a terrible waste of good talent.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You have that potential, Amy. I have seen you when you put it to work. You can be a very good submissive when the spirit moves you. The problem we have is moving that spirit in you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her eyes had not left the floor where they were supposed to be until I told her otherwise. She knew what she was supposed to do, it was just a matter of her doing it. Motivation, I felt, was the root issue.

“So tell me, Amy, what am I to do with such a disobedient, rebellious, little slut such as yourself? What would you do if you were in my place? How would you handle a submissive that just couldn’t seem to keep out of trouble?”

That’s when she broke protocol and looked up at me. “Please Master! Please don’t get rid of me like Master Paul did! Please, I will be good I will I promise! Please, please, don’t turn me away too! Please, Master! I’ll do whatever you want! Please!” she begged, clutching my legs.

“Amy, how long have you been here with me?”

“Six months, Master. Six wonderful happy months.”

“And in those six months have you ever known me to make a snap decision on anything important?”

“No, Master, you are very level-headed and you consider things before saying or doing anything.”

“Exactly. So what makes you think I would be hasty in making a decision whether to keep you or not?”

“Master, I know that I am a lot of work and a lot of trouble. I really do try to behave, but sometimes ... I don’t know what gets into me. I don’t know if I forget the rules, or if I just don’t care. I think I might have A.D.D. or something – I am easily distracted and have a hard time focusing on what I’m supposed to do.

“But whatever the reason, I don’t get out of bed in the mornings meaning to be such a bother to you. I really want to be a good submissive and a good girl for you. I’m sorry, Master. But please, please, don’t give up on me!” I saw a tear running down her cheek as she talked.

“I need to think about what to do with you. I want you to go to your room and stand in the corner. I want that mischievous little nose stuck in the corner and I don’t want it to come out until I call you. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Repeat it back to me then, I want to see if it registered with you.”

“I am to go to my room and stand in the corner until you call me, Master.”

“That’s right. Now go!” Amy got up and scooted off to her room at a brisk walk. She knew she was in trouble with me and didn’t want to get into any more. I heard her go upstairs and I heard her door shut. We share the master bedroom but we use the guest bedroom as her punishment room when she needs a timeout like now.

Amy’s infraction wasn’t all that severe – she had not gone grocery shopping like she should have and I had run out of beer. A minor thing, but she knows how I look forward to her serving me a nice cold beer when I get home from work. I like the service as much as the beer but without it, I am denied both.

The real problem is that all these little infractions keep on happening. It’s a cumulative effect and they are things she should be picking up on easily. It’s not hard to look in the fridge and see that I’m low on beer or milk or whatever. Or look in the pantry and notice Mother Hubbard’s cupboards are looking a bit sparse. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see when the laundry needs to be done or that there are no clean dishes to be had.

No, I wasn’t going to give up on Amy and turn her out. Not over forgetting my beer or her failure to keep clean clothes in my drawer or anything else. Even if those things were cumulative, I was a long, long way from reaching that point, if ever. But I wasn’t going to let her know that just yet.

She was afraid that I would be like her former Master and get tired of her and release her. But unlike Master Paul, I had a lot of patience and I saw that this little spitfire had the heart of a wonderful submissive if she just applied herself.

I was going to use that fear of being cast out to work on her imagination a bit. I could just picture her upstairs standing in her corner, fingering her collar and wondering what life would be like for a submissive without a Master.

What would she do with herself? How would she get by? Amy was a smart girl and she had a good education. I knew she could find a job fairly easily and I knew she could support herself if she needed to. I wasn’t worried about that even if I was to turn her out. She might have been worried about it, but I had no doubts.

It would definitely be a change for her – right now the only thing she had to worry about was making sure I was pleased with her. She had her chores to take care of, but in the end, pleasing me was job number one.

But if she was on her own, life would be a lot more complicated. She would have to work outside the home as well as inside. She would have bills to pay. She would have to deal with the problems that always came up in life on her own. It would be a radical life change for her – one I was certain she wasn’t looking forward to.

I let her stew on her precarious situation for a good while. I wanted that imagination to carry her off to places she didn’t want to go. To circumstances and predicaments she didn’t know how to get out of, and scenarios that would frighten her half to death. I wanted the “what if’s” to overwhelm her until she realized that life without me is no life she wants any part of.

I gave her a couple hours to ponder her fate and decide what path she wanted to take from here on out. Then I went upstairs to get her. Before I went into the guest bedroom, I stopped in our bedroom and quietly got a few things out of our “toy box” – a hope chest with a cushioned top that we kept some bondage equipment and other playthings in.

I got some rope, her leather wrist and ankle cuffs, a wooden paddle and a bamboo cane. I picked up a ball gag and thought about using it, but with what I had planned for her, I wanted her to have the power of speech for safety’s sake.

I went into the room and watched her. She knew I was in there – I could see her body tremble and see her shift positions, but she didn’t turn to look and see me. She knew I would have gotten angry with her if she had.

After a minute or so of watching her fidget in the corner, I moved into the room and over to the bed. I set things up on the bed the way I wanted them. I tied ropes to her wrist and ankle restraints so I could tie her to the bed.

I set up a couple extra ropes to go over her legs at the knees and across the small of her back when she was laying there. I set the paddle and cane on the edge of the nightstand and went into the bathroom to get some baby oil.

When I came back into the room again, I put the baby oil down next to the paddle, then sat on the edge of the bed facing Amy. “Come here,” I commanded her. Amy turned around and came to me, kneeling down as she had been taught with her knees spread wide and her head down looking at the floor in front of her.

“So have you thought long and hard about your actions – or in this case, lack of actions?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Look at me, Amy.” She looked up and I saw her face was wet with tears. “I’m glad to hear that because you have a decision to make young lady and it’s a decision I want you to make right here and right now. You are either going to be my good, obedient submissive or you aren’t. You are either going to follow my rules and commands every time, or you are going to live on your own as a free woman.”

“NO MASTER! PLEASE!” she cried, “Please don’t turn me out! Please, I will do anything you say! I will be anything you want me to be! Please, please don’t turn me out! Oh, Master, I am so sorry. I am so sorry I displeased you. Please, Master, please give me another chance and let me show you I can be good!”

“Well if your decision is to be my submissive then a punishment is in order. We cannot let your disobedience and thoughtlessness go unanswered. There has got to be some consequences for your behavior, don’t you agree?”

“Yes Sir,” I saw the relief in her face knowing that I wasn’t talking about letting her go anymore.

“If an outright release is not on the table, then something must take its place. And that something will be a spanking. A sound spanking and one that will remind you the next time you sit down of how you nearly lost your collar.”

“Yes Master,” she replied, “Thank you.”

“Now get undressed and get up on the bed then. Be quick about it, I want to get this over with. I want you in the center of the bed face down.” She did as I said quickly, not wanting to push her luck any further. I attached the wrist cuffs and then tied her arms straight out from her shoulders to the sides of the bed frame.

Once her arms were secured, I moved to her ankles putting them together and tying them to the foot of the bed. She was now in a T formation, face down on the bed. I tied the rope behind her knees to help hold her legs down and the rope across the small of her back to keep her ass down.

I shoved a pillow under her chest to raise her chest up a bit so she could breathe easier. I took a couple of pillows from the guest bedroom bed and stuffed them at her sides where the ropes would hold them in place to keep her side to side movement to a minimum.

Then I stood back and surveyed my work, testing the ropes and making sure she was there to stay until I let her go. When I was satisfied that she was secure and not able to go anywhere, I got the bottle of baby oil out and squirted a little on my hands.

“Now, Amy do you know why you are here tied to my bed?” I asked her as I started rubbing the oil onto her upturned ass cheeks.