Sanah Shows The Demon Squad How Obedient You Are

Aisha and Nyla practically exploded through the door—Nyla tossing a bag of dog treats onto the couch while Aisha squealed and tackled Sanah in a hug that nearly knocked them both over. "You did it!" Aisha gasped, shaking Sanah by the shoulders like a ragdoll. "You actually broke him!" Her eyes flicked to my collar, then back up, glittering with something unholy. "Oh my god, Sanah. You're a genius."

Nyla crouched in front of me with the predatory grace of a lioness sizing up prey. She tapped the bell once—*ting*—and grinned when I flinched. "Look at him," she murmured to Aisha, dragging a finger under my chin. "Already conditioned to the sound. Sanah, what the fuck did you do to him?"

Sanah just smirked, flopping onto the couch beside me with her legs draped possessively over my lap. "Nothing he didn't secretly want," she teased, ruffling my hair like I was some obedient golden retriever.

Aisha and Nyla looked like they couldn't believe this was really happening, they kept looking around wondering if it was all some beautiful dream. From the look on her face you could tell Sanah adored her friends and couldn't wait to share her victory with them, which was not good news for you. Sanah grabbed your hair and yanked you back softly. Then she gave you a command.

"Be a good boy, beg to kiss your master's feet." She said with a devious smile.

My throat locked up, refusing to form the words—until Sanah's fingers flicked the bell with practiced precision. The jingle shot through me like a cattle prod, my body reacting before my brain could catch up. "P-please," I choked out, the syllables scraping raw against my pride, "let me—" The bell rang again, sharper this time, and my hips jerked forward as if pulled by strings. "Aisha, Nyla, please let me kiss your feet." The confession spilled out in one shuddering breath, my face burning hotter with each millisecond of silence that followed.

Aisha's gasp was theatrically loud, her hand flying to her mouth as she exchanged wide-eyed looks with Nyla. "Ohhhh, he's *trained* trained," she breathed, already toeing off her sneakers with jerky, excited movements. Nyla didn't bother hiding her grin as she lifted one socked foot, pressing it against my thigh and wiggling her toes. "C'mon, puppy," she purred, "show us how bad you want it."

Sanah's fingers tightened in my hair, her approving hum vibrating against my shoulder as she watched me cave. The worst part wasn't the wet cotton of Nyla's sock against my lips or Aisha's delighted squeals—it was the way my traitorous pulse skyrocketed when Sanah whispered, "Good boy," and the bell chimed in time with my surrender.

She traced the collar with her pinky, explaining to the girls like I wasn't even there: "Watch this—he'll do anything if you tease the bell." To prove it, she flicked it sharply—once, twice—and my mouth fell open against Nyla's toes before I could stop myself. Aisha's gasp turned into a giggle as she pressed her bare foot against my cheek, her toes wiggling into the space between my lips. "Oh my god," she breathed, "he's like a wind-up toy!"

Sanah's knee nudged my thigh as she leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "See? Pavlov was onto something." The girls dissolved into laughter, their feet pressing closer—Aisha's arch against my tongue, Nyla's heel grinding into my collarbone—while Sanah narrated my degradation like a nature documentary. "Observe the domesticated boyfriend in his natural habitat," she deadpanned, giving the bell another experimental jingle that made my hips jerk forward involuntarily. "Note how he responds to auditory conditioning."

The worst part? She wasn't wrong. Every chime sent another jolt through me—shame twisting into something dangerously close to anticipation—as the girls' giggles blurred with the slick sounds of my humiliation. Sanah's fingers never left my collar, her grip the only anchor in a world rapidly narrowing to the press of feet and the merciless music of that godforsaken bell.