The Reverend kept a calm expression on his face as she seemed to reach some sort of a limit.  It was understandable to a certain extent -- she hadn't been trained yet, she was still burdened with all the expectations and understandings of her old life, of being a normal human being. It would take time for her to learn to be a proper pet Princess.  Her rebellion was understandable.  But it was not tolerable.<br/><br/>He raised a menacing eyebrow as she stupidly knocked her food from the bowl and onto the floor, apparently not that hungry after all.  He rose slowly, looming over her as she pulled out her tail, enoying the wincing look on her face, but not letting her see the amusement in his eyes.  She screamed at him, losing control, that she was not his fucking bitch. He smiled as her hand lashed out at him, and his hand came up automatically and caught her by the wrist, a motion so practiced it was clear he'd stopped more than a few scared or angry opponents from reaching him.<br/><br/>He held her wrist tight in his grip, squeezing hard, letting it hurt, and bending his hand so there was downward pressure, letting her feel the slowly growing possibility her wrist might snap in his grip if she didn't lower herself. His voice was low, intense and threatening, but totally controlled.  "You are my bitch, Princess.  That is all you are now. My bitch. Clearly you need a lot more training to truly understand and accept what you've become, but don't worry sweet Princess, you'll get all the training you need, and more."<br/><br/>He slapped her across the face as he spoke, again, then again, overpowering her with his words and his hand. Then he backhanded her hard enough to knock her to a sprawl on the floor.  "Apparently you weren't really hungry, Princess, or you prefer licking your meals from the floor. So we'll wait until tomorrow to give you another bowl of food, and that will only be half rations so we don't waste anything on an ungrateful bitch."<br/><br/>He stepped foreward and reached down, twisting his fist in her hair and pulling her head up to knee height, forcing her onto her knees and dragging her back to the cage.  Then he pulled her inside the cage, still on hands and knees, and pulled a metal fastening ring from his pocket, and slipped it through her collar. He pulled her lower, until her face was down at the floor, and he attached the other end of the ring to the lowest horizontal metal span of the cage, fastening her in that low position.  "Stay." He chuckled, having overstated the obvious, but she needed to be reminded now, constantly, of her position, to be treated like a disobedient pet, until she learned.<br/><br/>He stepped back and picked up her tail by the strands and tossed it back to land right in front of her face, on the other side of the bars.  "Put your tail back in Princess."  He watched her, and then stepped over to a cupboard and pulled out a slender flexible rod, bent it and tested it as he walked back.  Work your fingers through the bars, and pull your tail through and then get it back where it belongs, up your delightfully tight little ass, my disobedient Princess."  He waited. "No?  We've got time."<br/><br/>He stepped to the entrance of the cage, right beside her where her collar was fastened to the bars at the floor, looking down on her. He gave a quick whistling slash of the stick across her firm bottom, raising an eyebrow in appreciation of her shape, and making a note to get her some exercise in the yard later.  He'd want to keep her a firm and trim and deliciously sexy pet. He raised the rod again, giving her a few seconds to consider.