Page 5 of Punished and Trained
Viola
He led me through the corridors of the ship, my nakedness a terrible degradation despite the presence of other naked Magisterian concubines. Their ease with their nudity almost made it worse—except that I knew how very, truly much worse it would actually become, once I had to remain the only unclothed one on a civilized world where every other woman had the right to cover herself. The collar around my neck felt heavier with each step.
At the shuttle bay, several officers stood at attention, saluting the prince as we approached. None acknowledged my presence directly, though I could feel their eyes on my body. Prince Hendren guided me onto the small craft with a proprietary hand at the small of my back.
“Sit,” he commanded, indicating a luxurious seat beside his own.
The shuttle pilot and navigator studiously focused on their controls as I lowered myself onto the cool surface, acutely aware of my bare bottom against the leather. Prince Hendren fasteneda safety harness across my chest, the straps framing my breasts in a way that seemed deliberately humiliating.
“Course set for Euporia Central Spaceport, Your Highness,” the pilot announced.
“Proceed,” Prince Hendren replied, settling back in his seat.
The shuttle’s engines hummed to life, and we detached from the flagship with a gentle lurch. I stared out the viewport as the massive Magisterian vessel receded, my last tenuous connection to space—and the possibility of escape, however irrational that idea might truly be—growing more distant by the second.
“The Euporians are eager to meet you,” Prince Hendren said conversationally. “The former president of Artemisia, now serving as my concubine. It’s quite the diplomatic coup.”
I turned to him, horror dawning. “They know who I am?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Of course they do.” His smile was cold, calculating. “Your surrender ceremony was broadcast across seventy-six systems. Your appearance—both clothed and unclothed—is well known throughout the Federation’s territories, and we provided Euporia with a special feed for their administrative elite to enjoy.”
The realization hit me like a physical blow. I had somehow managed to compartmentalize my humiliation by imagining that the people who would see me on Euporia would be strangers, ignorant of my former position. The knowledge that they would recognize me, that they would know exactly how far I had fallen, made my stomach churn.
“In fact,” Prince Hendren continued, “your presence serves a dual purpose. It demonstrates Magisterian power while simultaneously reinforcing Euporian values. What better example of the natural order than the former leader of an egalitarian world, now properly subjugated?”
I stared at my bare thighs, at the smooth, hairless mound between them. Every part of me wanted to cross my legs, to cover myself, but the restraining harness made that impossible. The prince had positioned me deliberately—exposed, vulnerable, unable to hide.
“The First Minister of Euporia is particularly interested in meeting you,” he said. “He wrote a treatise on the inherent instability of female leadership decades ago. Your… current situation rather proves his point, wouldn’t you say?”
I bit back a retort, knowing it would only earn me punishment. Instead, I watched as Euporia grew larger in the viewport, a blue-green sphere marbled with white clouds. It looked peaceful, ordinary—the kind of world where I might once have conducted diplomatic negotiations as an equal. Now I would walk its surface as property.
The shuttle descended through the atmosphere, the cabin filling with the subtle vibrations of reentry. Prince Hendren placed his hand on my knee, a casual gesture of ownership that made me shiver despite the cabin’s warmth.
“You’re trembling,” he observed, his fingers tracing small circles on my skin. “Nervous about your diplomatic debut in your new role?”
“Please,” I whispered, unable to stop myself. “Must I be… like this? Couldn’t I wear something, just for the arrival?”
His hand stilled. “Even if I were willing to part with this important part of Magisterian tradition—the open display of a nobleman’s owned concubine—what you’re asking for is a privilege, Viola. Privileges must be earned.” His fingers dug into my flesh, just enough to hurt. “You haven’t earned anything yet.”
The shuttle banked, revealing a sprawling metropolis below—Euporia’s capital city. Unlike the organic, flowing architecture of Artemisia, everything here was ordered in precise geometric patterns. Even from this height, I could see the rigid organization of districts, the careful planning that must have gone into every aspect of the urban landscape.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Prince Hendren said, following my gaze. “A society built on natural order rather than chaotic equality. Men and women each in their proper roles.”
The shuttle slowed, hovering over what appeared to be a private landing pad attached to an imposing white building. The structure gleamed in the sunlight, its clean lines and precise angles seeming almost painful to my eyes. As we descended, I could see a welcoming party assembled on the platform—a dozen figures in formal attire, standing in a loose formation.
My heart hammered against my ribs. In moments, I would be paraded before these strangers, naked and collared. The reality of my situation came over me anew, and I fought to control my breathing.
“Remember,” Prince Hendren said softly, his lips close to my ear, “you represent the might of Magisteria now. Your submission reflects our power. Walk with grace, keep your eyes lowered unless instructed otherwise, and speak only when spoken to.”
The shuttle touched down with barely a tremor. As the engines powered down, Prince Hendren released my safety harness, his fingers lingering on the strap between my breasts.
“Stand,” he commanded.
My legs felt like water as I rose. The prince adjusted my posture with brusque efficiency, his strong hands moving my limbs into the posture he desired—shoulders back to display my breasts, hands clasped behind my back to emphasize my vulnerability, chin slightly lowered in deference.
“Perfect,” he murmured, stepping back to admire his work. “Now follow, three steps behind me.”
The shuttle door opened with a soft hiss, revealing the bright Euporian day. Prince Hendren strode forward with regal confidence while I followed, counting my steps carefully, painfully conscious of the cool air against my exposed skin and the eyes that would soon be upon me.
