In the Doghouse - Chapter 205

Richard’s lips twitched at Courtney’s compliment about his tearful face being beautiful. He wanted to smile in joy, yet he also felt he should keep crying to please her. Unable to decide, his expression contorted into something utterly strange.

Courtney moved behind him this time.

“Are you upset because I only hit the front? Stick your a*s out.”

Richard awkwardly pushed his hips backward. The clumsy posture of his bound limbs and protruding rear made him look all the more ridiculous. Her thighs involuntarily clenched. This was why she couldn’t fully train the increasingly foolish Richard—his foolishness catered perfectly to her tastes.

As a test, Courtney swung the whip lightly at his right cheek. Snap! The pleasing sound of leather meeting skin echoed as his back muscles twitched. Both the sight and the sound were satisfying, though perhaps less exciting. She leaned closer and teased in a playful tone.

“Right cheek, ‘woof.’ Left cheek, ‘bark bark.’ Got it?”

Richard nodded. Courtney immediately struck the center of his back.

“Mmff…!”

“If you understand, you need to answer.”

“Woof! Bark bark!”

“Good boy.”

Though pleased, Courtney felt a twinge of disappointment. If he’d answered like a person, she could have scolded him harshly. Instead, she continued to toy with him, whipping in a rhythmic pattern.

“Woof! Bark bark! Woof! Woof!”

Right, left, right, right—all correct answers. He was practically a prodigy pup. Of course, given his human intelligence, it wasn’t much of a challenge.

Snap! Snap! Courtney whipped his a*s cheeks until they flushed a bright red. For at least three days, sitting on a chair would remind him of this moment. She pictured him leaping up as though he’d sat on hot coals, his front tail proudly e***t, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Despite the relentless flogging, Richard didn’t falter in his responses. Slightly vexed, Courtney delivered a sharp lash right above his cleft.

“Mmff… woof?”

Richard turned his head with a puzzled expression. His clueless, foolish face was so comical that Courtney burst into laughter. Unsure if he had misread her intentions, Richard tilted his head in confusion.

Courtney swept her sweaty hair back. She wondered how her authority as a master could hold if she kept indulging his antics, but it didn’t trouble her much. By now, their dom-sub dynamic was too firmly rooted to be easily shaken.

Suddenly, she grabbed Richard by the back of his head, yanking his neck into a sharp arch. Standing on her tiptoes, she whispered into his ear,

“Tonight, I’ll keep hitting you until you can get off just from the pain. Be ready.”

A shiver rippled down Richard’s spine. Courtney still seemed unaware that just her presence, let alone her touch, was enough to drive him to the brink. If not for the restraint ring, her words alone would have pushed him over the edge.

The night was long. As promised, Richard cried until his voice was hoarse, from top to bottom.

* * *

The Founding Festival Ball was a resounding success. The event felt particularly special this year, thanks to Courtney’s decision to display rare paintings that had been gathering dust in the palace’s storerooms.

The Emperor and Empress’s opening dance was as breathtaking as ever, but the noble ladies were utterly captivated by the charming sight of the young prince and princess dancing to the music.

As the dance brought them closer, Courtney leaned toward Richard and whispered softly,

“Our kids are all grown up now, don’t you think?”

Richard glanced over his shoulder. Larissa, trying her best to act mature, and Lyle, earnestly leading her, caught his eye. He smiled faintly.

“It seems so,” he replied.

Courtney gave him a knowing smile. Was there a hidden meaning? Before Richard could make sense of it, she added nonchalantly,

“Now, I just have to finish raising you.”

“I’m not a child,” Richard protested, his brows furrowing slightly.

Though he couldn’t deny the occasional urge to lean on her, he worried about appearing unreliable in her eyes.

Courtney snorted and teased,

“Not a child, sure—just a mutt.”

She glanced pointedly at his neck, as if imagining an invisible collar. His face flushed red, and it wasn’t hard to guess the state of things beneath his trousers.

In truth, Courtney was still nursing severe muscle aches. She had indulged a bit too much that night, resulting in a lingering soreness in her shoulders. Ironically, Richard, the one who had been flogged all night, remained sprightly and even tended to her. It felt almost unfair.

Now fully recovered, Courtney hummed along to the music, her gaze drifting over the crowd. Beyond the throng of guests, she spotted Elise, gracefully escorted by Edvard, who moved with effortless poise. Nearby, Patricia blended seamlessly with the noblewomen in a reasonably decent outfit.

Not a bad spring soirée, all things considered.