“You’re going to stay here,” Beta said. “You’re going to submit to proper sexual training. You’re going to learn what it means to bedisciplined by someone who cares about your wellbeing, not just your degradation.”
Sala approached then, her footsteps soft on the laboratory floor. She stopped beside me and took my hand in hers. Her touch was warm, comforting.
“It’s going to be alright,” she said quietly. “I know you’re scared. But Beta is a good master. Firm, but fair. He trained his poor late wife with love, along with a firm hand—including on her bare bottom when she misbehaved. She loved him very, very much. He’ll help you find your way.”
“I don’t need a master,” I whispered, but even I could hear how hollow the words sounded.
“Yes,” Beta said, his voice carrying absolute certainty. “You do.”
I looked at him—at his powerful frame, his concerned expression, the way he stood with such natural authority. Then I looked at Omega’s suspended form, at the monster I had created from my own twisted desires.
Deep down, in a place I had tried so hard to ignore, I knew Beta was right. I did need this. I needed someone to take control, to show me the boundaries I couldn’t seem to find on my own. Not someone who would use me cruelly for his own pleasure, but someone who would discipline me for my own good.
“Please,” I heard myself say, though I wasn’t sure what I was begging for. “Please, I can’t… This is wrong… Ms. Opalin would?—”
“Ms. Opalin isn’t here,” Beta said gently. “And she couldn’t help you even if she was. This isn’t about Hippolytan philosophy orMagisterian tradition. This is about you, Jendra. About what you need to survive this.”
Sala squeezed my hand. “Come with me,” she said. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready.”
“Ready for what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“For your punishment,” Sala said simply. “Beta is going to whip you, Jendra. He’s going to whip your bottom very thoroughly, until you understand the consequences of what you’ve done.”
My pussy clenched at her words, and fresh shame washed over me at my body’s betrayal.
“And then,” Sala continued, “he’s going to begin your training properly. Teaching you how to submit in healthy ways, how to channel these desires into something that won’t destroy you.”
I looked back at Beta, at the determination in his face. Part of me wanted to fight, to protest, to maintain some shred of my dignity. But a larger part—the part that had summoned Omega in the first place—knew that resistance was futile.
This was the only way.
“Alright,” I whispered, the word barely audible. “Alright, I’ll… I’ll do what you say.”
Beta nodded, and something in his expression softened slightly. “Good girl,” he said, and despite everything, I felt warmth bloom in my chest at the simple praise.
