Page 51 of Punished and Trained
“She will not be dissuaded, then?” Prince Hendren said, walking toward me, his sea-blue eyes fixed on mine as he addressed Counselor Barber.
“Your Royal Highness,” Counselor Barber replied, rising respectfully as my master entered the chamber. “Miss Herranofar appears quite resolved in her request. I’ve explained the full legal ramifications, but she maintains her position.”
Prince Hendren’s gaze never left mine as he approached, his expression unreadable. When he reached my chair, his hand settled on my shoulder with that familiar possessive weight that sent shivers through my entire body.
“Stand, Viola,” he commanded softly.
I rose on trembling legs, acutely aware of how his presence seemed to fill the formal chamber. Even here, surrounded by the trappings of legal authority, he commanded absolute attention. His perfectly tailored diplomatic attire only emphasized the predatory grace that had first captivated and terrified me.
“You understand what you’re asking of me,” he said, his voice carrying that dangerous quiet that I had learned to recognize. “You want me to cane you with judicial severity before theentire galaxy. To mark your body so brutally that you’ll carry the evidence for months.”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the high-ceilinged chamber.
His fingers traced the line of my collar, a gesture so intimate and possessive that it made my breath catch. “And you believe this will serve the Federation’s interests better than the freedom I offered you?”
“I do.” The words came out stronger than I’d expected. “The Vionian remnant expects me to resist, to become their symbol of Federation oppression. Instead, I’ll prove that submission offers more fulfillment than any independence ever could.”
Prince Hendren’s eyes searched mine with an intensity that made me feel completely exposed. “You realize, my dear concubine, that once I agree to this, there will be no mercy. I cannot show leniency during a judicial punishment without undermining the very authority we seek to demonstrate.”
The warning sent a bolt of terror through me, but beneath the fear was something else—a dark anticipation that shamed me even as it strengthened my resolve. “I understand, Master. I need you to be severe with me. I deserve it.”
Counselor Barber cleared his throat delicately. “Your Royal Highness, if I may… there is still time to reconsider. We could arrange Miss Herranofar’s quiet disappearance from public view. A staged transport accident, perhaps, or a rescue attempt by Artemisian loyalists. She could be relocated to one of the outer rim worlds where her identity would never be discovered.”
Prince Hendren’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly on my shoulder as he considered the legal counsel’s suggestion. “Itwould solve the political problem cleanly,” he mused, his voice carrying that calculating tone I had learned to recognize. “You could live freely under a new identity, Viola. No punishment, no public degradation. Simply… gone from the galactic stage forever.”
The offer hung in the air like a lifeline I knew I should grasp. Freedom. Anonymity. A chance to start over without the weight of failure or the prospect of brutal correction hanging over me. It was everything the woman I had once been would have wanted.
But as I stood there feeling the warmth of Prince Hendren’s possessive touch, I realized that woman was already gone. The former president of Artemisia had died the moment I chose to kneel before him at the Presentation ceremony. What remained was something new—someone who had found purpose in surrender and meaning in service.
“No,” I said quietly, my voice carrying surprising strength. “I won’t run from what I’ve done or what I need to become. The galaxy needs to see this, Sire. They need to understand that submission isn’t defeat—it’s transformation.”
Prince Hendren’s fingers traced along my jawline with gentle possession. “Even knowing how savage it will be? Viola, when I cane you judicially, I must use the full force of the law. Twenty-four strokes with a punishment cane that will leave you screaming and sobbing before billions of viewers.”
Heat flooded through my core at his brutal description, my body responding with that familiar, shameful eagerness even as my mind recoiled from the promised agony. “I need it to be savage,” I whispered, hating how breathless I sounded. “If it appears merciful, the propaganda value is lost.”
“There are ways to make it more bearable,” he said, his voice dropping to that intimate tone he used when we were alone. “I could activate the governor’s stimulation function during the punishment. The pleasure would help offset the pain, make it easier for you to endure.”
The suggestion sent a bolt of mortifying arousal through me, but I forced myself to shake my head. “No, Master. That would compromise the demonstration. I have to accept the full severity of what I deserve.”
Prince Hendren studied my face intently, as if searching for any sign of uncertainty. “You’re certain? The stimulation would be a kindness, Viola. Without it, you’ll experience nothing but pure agony.”
“I’m certain.” My voice came out stronger than I felt. “In fact, am I correct that on Prosperia, where the governor was developed, wives’ arousal is suppressed when their husbands punish them?”
“Yes,” Prince Hendren replied, his expression growing even more serious. “The suppression function ensures that wives remain properly penitent during correction, preventing any confusion between punishment and pleasure.”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry as I forced out the words that would seal my fate. “Then I ask you to activate that function during my caning, Master. Set it as high as it would be for a penitent young woman on Prosperia receiving her husband’s discipline.”
The request hung in the air like a physical weight. Counselor Barber’s eyebrows rose with evident surprise, while Prince Hendren’s eyes searched my face with renewed intensity.
“Viola,” he said quietly, “that would make the experience considerably more difficult. The suppression function doesn’t just prevent arousal—it actively dampens your body’s natural endorphin responses. You would feel every stroke with complete clarity, no chemical cushion to soften the impact.”
Terror coursed through me at his explanation, my knees threatening to buckle as I imagined the full implications. But beneath the fear, buried so deep I could barely acknowledge it to myself, was a dark thrill that sent liquid heat pooling between my thighs. The thought of being so completely at his mercy, of enduring the most severe correction possible while the entire galaxy watched, awakened something primitive and desperate in my core.
“I understand,” I whispered, fighting to keep my voice steady while my pulse hammered against my collar. “That’s what I deserve, Master. Complete clarity. No mercy.”
Prince Hendren’s hand moved to cup my chin, tilting my face up so I couldn’t escape his penetrating gaze. “You’re asking me to hurt you more severely than I’ve ever hurt anyone, Viola. To make you suffer in ways that will test the very limits of your endurance.”
“Yes,” I breathed, the single word carrying all my terror and shameful need. My body trembled under his touch as I imagined the judicial cane whistling through the air, the devastating impact against my bare flesh with nothing to cushion the agony. The thought should have horrified me completely, but instead it sent another wave of forbidden arousal through my system—arousal I desperately hoped neither man could detect.
