Tail, Three Times a Day
by az2k
Copyright© 2026 by az2k
BDSM Sex Story: A "tail report" game asks Lin Wan to check in with her feelings three times a day — and teaches her that her moods are always welcome.
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction BDSM DomSub MaleDom AI Generated .
It was Zhou Yang’s idea. Obviously.
One night she said, “Master, my mood was all over the place today, I can’t even sort it out.” And he said: “Pups don’t have tails. Use your mood as one. Three reports a day — morning, noon, night. Hanging, wagging, curled, tucked — your call. Just don’t lie.”
She renamed her alarms “tail time.” Three a day. Like medication.
Day one, 9 a.m. Boss had called her out twice in the morning meeting — “lacks focus.” She hid in the break room with her mug, water heater humming, and typed: “Tail hanging. Got told off. The dragging-on-the-floor kind.”
“Head pat,” he wrote back instantly. “Drink something hot first. Droopy tails need hot water. Lunch, I’m taking you somewhere good. Then it can wag again.”
She rubbed her forehead against the phone screen like his hand was there. Drank half a mug. Felt the tail-tip lift, just a little.
12:30. Braised chicken rice, alone. The chicken fell off the bone. She photographed the steaming bowl: “Tail wagging! Found something delicious. Wanted to save the first bite for Master. Master’s not here. Ate two extra in your honor.”
“Good. Eat plenty,” he said. “Saw it wagging. Nice form.”
She laughed out loud; the next table stared; she ducked and shoveled faster, ears red. But the droop had been ironed out — meal plus a few words, like a hand smoothing a crease.
9 p.m. Out of the shower, hair damp, kneeling by the bed. “Tail curled. Warm. Tucked in a circle. Missing Master a bit.”
Voice message back, very soft, dead quiet behind him: “Three for three today. Hung, wagged, curled. You ran the feelings through once. They’re past now. You may hold your tail while you sleep. Good night, good pup.”
She hugged the phone like it was the tail itself. Slept deeper than she had in weeks.
Day two, noon: tucked. “Tail tucked. Typed a wrong number into a whole column. Coworker caught it. Want to crawl into a floor crack.”
“Tucked is fine,” he said. “Fix it and it comes back down. Who hasn’t? I once moved a decimal point.”
She snorted. Half the tension gone. Fixed the data, reported: “Tail down. Thanks, Master.”
“Remember: tucked is when you tell me most. Don’t sit on it alone.”
“Got it.”
Day three, night: “WAGGING. Like crazy. Whoosh-whoosh. Proposal passed! Boss praised me in front of everyone!”
“That earns a reward,” he said. “Tomorrow you sleep in ten minutes. Kneel at 7:40. One day only.”
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