Revenge queen, part 2

"You seem to have forgotten your place," says the black woman as she sits in the sturdy wooden chair she uses for these purposes.

"Did you really think it would be okay to ask your wife for sex? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Your little wife is my slave. White boys are forbidden from having sex with their women. These are to be used by real men and to serve as our servants. Your little wife is now cleaning my house before she gives her ass to my husband." Her voice rises, the anger palpable. "Do you really think I'd have any interest in letting that disappointing member of yours inside her? Though I doubt you could even impregnate her with that tiny shrimp you have between your legs... there will be no more white boys, understand? I won't allow it."

She motions for you to come closer, and you obey. She unbuttons your pants and pulls them down along with your underwear. You step out of them dutifully.

"I know you still struggle with accepting this, with being disciplined. I know it's hard to live under these rules. We've talked about this. You will never have sex. You'll be docile and submissive; you've been defeated, and all that's left is to accept it." She reaches out and grasps your flaccid penis. "This has no right to be inside any white girl. You're allowed to orgasm, but never inside her. You don't deserve to fuck her. You're not worthy of a woman. You're lucky I still let you keep your balls attached to your dick."

You let your frustration get the best of you. You knew it was wrong while you were doing it. More importantly, you knew it was against the rules of the relationship you'd committed to. You knew it directly went against the agreements you'd made. You also knew the punishment you were about to receive was deserved.

She was going to discipline you, and you were going to learn your lesson. You wondered if that was the point of your outburst. Perhaps you were trying to earn this punishment. Perhaps you felt like you deserved it, or at least needed it.

"Get into position," she orders. You lay over her knees.

It's still humiliating every time you do it. The first thing you think is that an adult shouldn't be over the knee of another, especially in this context. That's part of the point, though. It's supposed to be humiliating. It's meant to remind you of your place before the discipline begins. She rubs her hand over your exposed skin.

Her touch is soft against yours. You can feel the warmth of her hand. It's soothing, despite knowing what's coming next.

"Do you understand that what you did was wrong?" she asks.

"Yes," you admit.

"Do you understand that you violated the terms of our agreement?" she insists.

"Yes."

Her hand lifts from your skin. You brace yourself for what's coming. You know pain will soon accompany the discipline.

"Do you understand that this punishment is for your own good and for the stability of your relationship?" she asks.

"Yes, I understand," you say.