Love, Lies and Punishment (Part 7 of Series)
Copyright© 2026 by BethanyBelow
Chapter 21: Punishment
True Story Sex Story: Chapter 21: Punishment - The 7th story in my Infidelity series about how I cheated on my BF, got involved with the guy I cheated with for 6.5 months and what started as a mistake, became an affair and then slowly turned into my loss of self and degradation. This 7th story takes place about 7 weeks after I first cheated. Be sure to read the previous stories for this to make sense.
Caution: This True Story Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Coercion Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual True Story Cheating BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Rough Spanking Anal Sex Cream Pie Enema Exhibitionism Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Squirting Water Sports Public Sex
“That is right, you haven’t been.” His voice was calm, collected, and even. “Now start over and count to twenty.”
I heard the buckle, the swish of the leather being drawn through the loops of his pants, and I knew what was coming, and fear surged through me as I began to whimper, remembering the way the belt had felt the first time he had used it on me.
“I am sorry, Beth, but this is going to hurt. I didn’t want to have to do this, and once we are done, I hope I never have to do it again.”
The first strike was not a spank. It also wasn’t at all like it had felt the first time, when I had been bent over his knees. This time he was standing and swinging, and the pain was an intense line of fire across both cheeks, loud, deep, immediate. I yanked my head up and screamed at the wall. The pain didn’t stop when the belt left. It bloomed, and the tears flowed anew. “One. Oh my God. One.”
Two struck lower and was worse because the skin was already burning and the new stripe found it. I sobbed the number. Fluid left me in a rush I could feel, down my thighs, pattering on the floor. Humiliating. The humiliation went straight to my clit, which was the cruelest trick my body had played on me today, and today had a list.
“You are pissing on my floor like an animal,” he said. “Again.”
“Two. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I did not know if I was sorry for pissing on his floor, sorry for what I had done to him the night before, sorry for the pain the belt was causing, or sorry for the sexual arousal I seemed to be getting from the shame and humiliation of it all.
Three. The crack was louder. The hurt was worse than two, which had been worse than one. That was the rule of it. It accumulated. I yelped and then cried. After the first shock, the fire in my ass mixed with something I only had one word for, and the word was pleasure, and I wanted to bite it in half. The shame of that made me wetter. I knew it. I could not stop it.
“Three. Please. It hurts.”
“Four.” I was shaking now, my body covered in a sheen of sweat, my heart racing faster than at any time in my life I could remember. “God, it hurts ... It’s too much ... I can’t.”
On five, after the scream faded and the intense blossom of pain began to disperse, I knew. The orgasm from the spanking had not left. It had been waiting for the belt to give it a shape. It was huge, and it was coming, and I could not let that happen. The humiliation of cumming during what was the worst pain of my life made no sense, and I had to stop it and the pain.
“Please, Tyler, stop. I can’t take any more, please.”
Six landed, and I screamed again, writhing across the table, covered in sweat and tears. The pain and fire in my ass after the belt was now almost as intense as the belt itself; the difference, though, was that this pain was also mixed with the growing pleasure. The humiliation and shame were growing with each strike as well.
“Please, I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good. I will do whatever you want, please.”
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