Domestic Discipline Bootcamp Novels & Stories

The warriors took Baine away while he growled and yelled obscenities all the way back to the dungeons. King Quincy looked toward the crowd, “This begins a new era in this kingdom. Domestic abuse will no longer be tolerated. We have self-defense classes starting on Monday. I am making these classes mandatory for all women and teen girls. There are sign up sheets in the main foyer of the castle. I want every woman and teen girl to sign up for a class time that will fit in your schedule. We will also be starting classes for children and toddlers, but we want to work on the women and teens first. I am announcing this to the entire kingdom. Abuse bullying will no longer be tolerated.”

All of us wanted to destroy it and its leader. Pulling up to base, we unloaded our gear and parked the van in the garage out back. Our base was a warehouse building disguised as an elite gym. In the front was Domino’s Gym, owned by Chief. In the back of the warehouse, was all the government equipment we could ask for. To patrons, our team all worked at the gym. Badger was in charge of martial arts and kickboxing classes, while Buddha was in charge of weight training and yoga classes. Arrow and Chief ran self defense classes and helped oversee operations

I asked as I followed him out. He carried the tote out of the shooting range and into the gym section of the hidden training room. After he set it down, he crouched beside it and pulled everything out. The items, ranging in size from large to small, were spread out on the ground. “This is everything I will train you to use. Everything here is for beginners; they are compact enough to be hidden easily.” As Dominic spoke, I knelt on the ground across from him. “I don’t think I need to be trained on how to wear a pair of boots.” I laughed and pointed to the pair of black combat boots at the beginning of the row.

Neo POV Sitting in the dim light of my room, the only glow came from my laptop screen, flickering images of discipline and control from a site not known to the softer souls of our world. "Reform and Remold," the website promised, a place for werewolf alphas to send their wayward sisters, daughters, and female pack members to learn obedience, far from the forgiving eyes of their families. The camp, masked as a reformatory institute, was nothing short of a prison, its programs designed not to nurture but to break.

he answers sternly, like it’s a fact written in stone. My muddy boots hit the black marble as we step inside. The interior feels colder now, more rigid. Students roam the halls, books in hand, conversations low. Submissives trail behind their doms, eyes downcast, perfectly composed. I frown. “Why not?” He sighs, already sounding tired of this conversation. “This trip is for doms. To let off steam.” My frown deepens. “What does that mean?” “No rules,” he mutters, steering us into the cafeteria.

Making subs have a plug in for hours without get a release was always a form of punishment Doms gave their subs for disobedience but this man had plugged himself, endured a bumpy road and even without a cock cage had managed not to release. To say I was impressed would be an understatement I had never wanted to collar a man this bad in my life, in fact I had undergone the dom training because I had that it helped with displine and control. Very unconventional, I know but it was just on impulse and after enjoy the first class I had gone back for more till I had gotten the necessary qualifications.

“What do you think this is? Military bootcamp?” He folded his arms across his chest, and I got to witness his biceps thicken with every move. “Your father asked me to instill discipline in you. You’re a brat, little girl. I know exactly what works for sissies like you.” The thickness of his voice and the intensity of his stare made my knees wobble. I barked a laugh that came out shakier than I wanted. “You’re actually serious with this shit?” His voice dropped an octave. “That’s ten strokes.”

That’s a level of power many would strive for. It’s that irritable word that gets me every time. Compulsory. I think it’s his favourite. It’s compulsory to be removed from your family callously to attend boarding school until you’re eighteen. It’s compulsory to attend further schooling for five years to get a high end job. Be a lawyer, or a doctor. Something boring like that. Unless of course, you’re a misfit. A delinquent. An outsider. Then you’re shipped off to manually train to be nothing more than a security guard at one of Kael’s many prison facilities. It’s a shame this Pack, the Discipline Pack, follows its namesake so directly.

"You can say no." I shake my head, but say nothing more. They know, we all know, discipline is part of this thing we have, this wonderful, sensual, satisfying thing we do. The caning is a part of it, as crucial as the fucking was. We need to do it. I need them to do it, to maintain the balance and set me free. I manage a small, rather shaky smile. "The basement? Your dungeon?" Mark smiles at me. "No, we decided to stay here. Doms’ discretion."

“I don’t remember exactly. It was…a long time ago.” “Did she leave because…because of your abuse?” I pressed, the question hanging heavy in the air between us. His eyes flashed with anger. “She was a bad wife,” he spat. “I tried to discipline her, that’s all.” “Discipline her?” I repeated, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. “Is that what you call it? My teacher said you were in jail. That I was brought to the orphanage because I had no one else to take care of me, I bet you were taken to jail for domestic abuse.”