Training My Six Year Old

By Solomon

Disclaimer: If you are easily offended by blatant sexual stories, are under 18, or have a heart condition, don’t read this. If it is illegal in your state to possess this literature, then don’t possess. All within is pure fiction - I guess.

There she was, sleeping on the floor in front of the TV. She looked like the perfect angel with her stomach moving gently as her lungs filled with air, and then exhaled. I could watch her sleep like that for hours.

She rolled over in her sleep until she was on her back with her legs spread wide and stretched outward. It was still cold outside and I worried about her catching cold on the carpet. I thought about covering her nakedness with her favorite blanket, but I knew she would just kick it off. That was fine with me though, because she was such a pleasure to watch.

There didn’t seem to be a thing in the world more beautiful than the smooth, perfectly hairless tummy of my little girl as she twitched her legs around to get comfortable. I remembered back to when I was a little one lying by the fire in the midwinter cold and curling up, only to need to stretch out again when I had gathered enough warmth.

As I grow older in years, I look upon the pureness of the beauty in front of me and smile in the knowledge of just how much she loves me, and depends on me. I remember how only minutes ago I was rubbing my fingers roughly through her hair to massage her scalp as she squatted in front of me looking for my love and affection. I love her short brown hair and the way she adores me rubbing my fingers through it.

She knew she could melt my heart and get whatever her little heart desired by batting those big brown eyes at me. I can see just how much she begs for even the slightest touch from me to electrify the energy within her. And when I finally stroke her cheek or run my hand down her side, her smile lights up even the darkest room.

I made up my mind that as soon as she was rested that I would take her into the basement and play with her until her frail little body ached all over. I loved watching her lithe little body as she would twist to get away from me; and then I’d pull her back to me by her legs and do the spider walk with my fingers right up her belly, between her nipples and tweak her nose. Perhaps the most fantastic part of our all-out playtime was when she would get away from me and run as far away from me as the room would allow her. When I would trap her in a corner, I would wrap my arms around her and force her over onto her back again with her kicking me like crazy. I knew I wasn’t hurting her, because her smile never left her face. Even when she would run from me, her body language made it perfectly clear that she really didn’t want to get away; she just wanted to be captured again.

And when our playtime was all over, we would rest for a while with her head in my lap. She would all but pass out from her exhaustion. But she would spring to life at the mere mention of getting her some food. For such a scrawny little girl, she had a ravenous appetite. She would always be the first one up the stairs to the kitchen and I would taunt her by pinching her butt cheeks a couple of times.

She would constantly be underfoot as I prepared her meal and would simply go nuts whenever she saw something she really liked coming her way. I almost felt bad when I would dump her food into a dog dish, place it on the floor, and watch her hunch over to be able to eat it. I would rather have her eat at the table with me, but I had to make sure she knew her place and keep her trained properly. After all, she wouldn’t be that fabulous little girl I owned if she didn’t behave properly.

Out of all the things I did to train her so well, there was one thing that really still scared her because she was afraid of where it would lead her. Too many times she had been hurt when I would use that nasty device on her and she would grimace as I stooped to her level to put it on her. But wearing the ‘collar’ was a must in any girl’s training. I knew that as soon as I got the collar around her neck that she would quite obediently go and get her lead. As much as she feared where I would lead her to, she trusted me so very much that I wouldn’t hurt her.

Unfortunately, this was one of those times she would hate me for the rest of her life. I couldn’t even tell her what I was going to do to her. It even made me cringe that I could muster the courage to put her through what I had in mind. But I had thought about doing this for two weeks now and I knew it was time for her to have it done.

I brought her to the ‘place’, being unable to even mention the building that she hated more than anything in the world. She had learned from visits to this building in the past that it meant we would most likely be separated and by the next time we saw each other, she would have endured great pain. I took the collar from around her neck, gave her a last hug goodbye, and asked the girl taking control of her when she would be ready to come back to me. That’s when I found out that she would probably be fixed up and ready to go home the very next day.

I was so delighted that I went back to my knees to look her in the eyes and told her it would be all right and that I’d see her in just a little while. Her eyes seemed in so much pain. She knew I was leaving her to be tortured by these cruel people. I twisted her onto her back and gave her bare belly one last ruffling rub. When she bounced back onto her feet, I kissed her on her forehead and the girl took her away from me.

As I left the building I realized the date. I had to smirk to myself as I wondered what she would be thinking if she knew the date and the significance of it. Was the torture she was about to endure really going to happen, or was this all a cruel trick? Would she think this was all a cruel hoax if she knew the date and feel safe from being cut open to spay her? She would so hate me if she knew about this day, April 1^st. Probably as much as the twisted people reading my story about my sweet little Doberman, or dobie girl, as I like to call her.

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