Cruel to be Kind

       You do have to be cruel to be kind sometimes.  And I can do that.

       I recall once when I had Priscilla scrubbing floors for, literally, a couple of hours - until she was sobbing audibly.  Tears are usually a fairly reliable sign that you've sufficiently gotten your point across.

       Passing by, I simply said, "You're done here.  Go to bed."

       When I retired for the evening myself about an hour later, she was lying on her side, turned away from my side of the bed, and I assumed she was already fast asleep.  But once I'd settled myself, she mumbled, "I'm sorry I'm so wicked sometimes."

       I caressed her hip and noted, "Ah, you're not all that horrible, Pris."

       "I am!", she replied.

       I sighed and suggested, "You know, angel, the wisest course of action for you here might not be to disagree with me."

       After only a barely discernible moment of hesitation, she (wisely) said, "Yes, Sir."

       I smiled, patted her bottom, and said, "Good girl.  Now go to sleep."

       "Don't you want to fuck me?"

       "Do don't whine, Pris."

       "I'm sorry - I'm such a terrible slut."

       Feeling something between amused and exasperated, I said, "For Christ's sake, Pris, I can hear you grinning over there."

       Which brings us to one further discipinary note - It's nearly axiomatic that a girl, once properly chastised, rather surges with a desire to be properly fucked.  God in Heaven only knows precisely the workings of that psychology - all a man can do is take note of the fact.