You need a new kind of punishment

You've been bad and you know it. You saw it in my eyes the moment your hand wander down between your legs - the surprise, quickly followed by disappointment. Was that tiny shock of pleasure - the momentary joy of one small thrum on your clit - worth the consequences? Maybe it was involuntary; you didn't mean to - or did you? You loved the thrill in the moment, but now, standing in the light of my judgmental gaze, you're not so sure.

And then I ignore it, set you free to go about your business. Of course I don't punish you right away - that makes it worse. You wonder all day: when is it going to happen? And then the even worse thought: will it happen at all or will I just decide to be done with you?

When I finally tell you to get the chair, it's almost a relief. A relief to know you're about to be punished! Is there any other feeling that so solidly cements your beta status? Is there anything else that affirms your position beneath me as solidly as when the anxiety fades because you know you're about to be spanked?

Real women don't get wet from punishment - only betas do.

When I sit down, you know the position immediately. Bent over my knees, head down, arms clutched behind your back, legs open and ass available. You were naked before we started (of course you were - betas don't wear clothes in the house).

How often do we do this - thrice weekly, at least, to show you your place? More often than that when you can't follow the rules, like today. This position must feel like home to you by now.

Your pert ass stands at attention, waiting for its treatment. You know the drill - hold your position or I'll make it even worse for you. But when the paddle ignores those round globes and lands squarely between your legs on your pussy lips, you can't help but jump.

I've been too lenient with you, too gentle. You've been running amok and breaking the rules. Three spankings a week clearly isn't enough, so we'll have to bump up that number. And this time, for this punishment, you need to learn a lesson you won't forget. It's working - you whimper when I strike your pussy again with the paddle, your leg tremble with the effort of holding position. It stings there, the sharp strikes on your labia, but more than that, it's a humiliation.

Your pussy isn't a place for pleasure. I remind you of that as I continue spanking that useless slit and the sharp stinging grows to a steady burn. You'll be sore from this tomorrow. Beta pussies are for punishment and otherwise are simply annoying, drippy holes. I should have made you anal only a long time ago, and I'm correcting that oversight today.

When I put the paddle down, your pussy is red and swollen. It's also undeniably wet, which I make sure to point out. Only a beta gets wet from punishments, after all. I put you in the corner to think about your transgressions, your hands behind your back and nothing to look at but the blank wall. Nothing to feel but the pulsing pain in your cunt, each fresh ache an echo of the spanks. Nothing to do but wonder what all the noises are behind you.

It feels like an eternity when I summon you and tell you to get on your hands and knees on the floor. As soon as you turn, you know what's coming - I've hooked the black strap-on over my hips, the one with the thick veins that's just a hair too big for comfort.

You feel the head against your sphincter and brace yourself. I tell your to put your forehead on the floor and you do, hot skin against cool wood. The hard surface bites into your knees while I take my time, smearing the head of my cock against your hole. Arch your back, I tell you, and as you do, your knees press down even harder.

On the first thrust forward, your sphincter screams open, stretching to its limit, and your lower back tenses as you take my full length. I thrust slowly but steadily, prolonging the burning stretch so you feel every inch. I pull open your cheeks, admiring the taut hole as I bottom out in your guts.

I finally slap your ass, the impact you've been waiting for. I tell you to show your appreciation - I expect you to moan in pleasure when I make the effort to fuck you. I expect you to push back onto my cock to beg for more. Your body heats with shame but you nonetheless hear a guttural sound spill from your throat. You try to push back against me, your asshole still aching from the initial entry, and I laugh at your feeble attempts.

And then we begin in earnest - hard thrusts with my hands pulling your hips to mine, unstoppable since there's no risk of my dildo nutting. No, we can go as long as I want, until I've decided we've had enough. At first you hold position valiantly, but before long, the jackhammering pushes you flat into the ground, prone beneath me. I pull your hair to hold your head up and body tight while I continue filling you. In, out, in, out, rapid fire and without pause until you're a whimpering, blubbering mess, legs quivering from the onslaught. Even at the end, when your moans sound more like whimpers, I still smack your ass when you fall silent for too long. Show me you like it, I remind you, and since you're a beta, you obey.

By the end, you're barely present enough to hear the sloppy sound as the dildo pulls free from your now-gaping asshole. The only thing you can feel is the cool air on your abused rectum when the toy exits. As if by instinct, you immediately reassume your original position - head down ass up - and I give one ass cheek a tender pat. Your pussy is dripping, I tell you. You must have enjoyed that, just like a real beta. I remind you that this is why we don't need to use your pussy anymore - you get all you need from your ass.

We aren't done until you've cleaned me off, clearing all your ass juices from my nice dildo. I shove it down your throat a few times so that musky flavor sets in deep enough that you won't be able to swallow it away - another reminder of your place. Then another little pat on your ass and we're back to business as usual: make my dinner, clean my house, lick my pussy. If you're lucky I might decide to fuck you again later.