Page 13 of Punished and Trained
“No,” I sobbed, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. “Please, I can’t?—”
“You can,” he insisted, his voice tight with his own approaching release. “And you will. Again.”
The third orgasm ripped through me with such force that my vision blurred at the edges, consciousness threatening to slip away entirely. My entire body convulsed with the force of it, muscles spasming around the prince’s thick shaft as he continued his relentless invasion.
“Mine,” he growled, his rhythm even more punishing as his own release approached. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I sobbed, the word tearing from my swollen lips. “Yours, Sire.”
With a guttural grunt, Prince Hendren drove himself to the hilt and stilled, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside me. I felt the hot splash of his seed marking me internally, claiming my most private passage as his own. The governor continuedits merciless stimulation, forcing yet another climax from my exhausted body as he filled me.
When he finally withdrew, I collapsed against the whipping block, trembling and spent. The prince adjusted something on the controller, and the intense stimulation subsided to a gentle hum, keeping me balanced on the edge of arousal without pushing me over again. I whimpered, too overwhelmed to form words.
“You’ll go to the Academy tomorrow,” he said, his voice returned to its usual aristocratic composure as he cleaned himself with a soft cloth. “You’ll learn your place more thoroughly than I could teach you alone.”
He moved to release my restraints, his touch businesslike yet not unkind. When I was free, he helped me to stand on trembling legs, my body still quivering with aftershocks.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
I raised my eyes to meet his, expecting to see triumph or mockery. Instead, I found something more complex—satisfaction, certainly, but also something almost like approval.
“You’ll remember this,” he said, tracing a finger along my tearstained cheek. “When your Guardian takes you, when your Mistress instructs you, you’ll remember who truly owns you.”
“Yes, Sire,” I whispered, my voice raw from screaming.
He guided me to the enormous bed, laying me down with unexpected gentleness. “Sleep now. Tomorrow begins your true education.”
CHAPTER 6
Viola
I thought I had known humiliation until I walked through the doors of the Women’s Training Academy.
The next morning, after a short ride in an autocar, the building rose before me like a monument to feminine submission, its pristine white walls and orderly gardens seeming to anticipate the rigid structure that I knew must await within. As a concession to Euporian custom, Prince Hendren had allowed me to wear a simple shift dress made of purple synth silk and matching sandals, but I had nothing under it, unless my collar counted.
He walked beside me, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back as we approached the entrance. Despite everything that had transpired between us, I found myself clinging to his familiar presence, dreading the moment he would leave me here.
“Remember what we discussed,” he murmured as we climbed the marble steps. “You belong to me. Whatever happens here, that fundamental truth remains unchanged.”
The massive oak doors opened before we could knock, revealing a woman in an elegant navy dress with crisp white trim. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back in a severe chignon, and her pale blue eyes assessed me with clinical interest. I recognized her, to my horror: Mistress Orela.
“Your Royal Highness,” she said, curtsying deeply. “I don’t know if you remember me from the reception last night. I am Mistress Orela, Headmistress of the Women’s Training Academy. We are honored by your presence.”
“Mistress Orela,” Prince Hendren replied with a slight bow. “Of course I remember. May I again present Viola, my concubine, this time formally, and for your instruction.”
The formal introduction made my cheeks burn. To be presented like a possession, handed over for training as if I were a misbehaving pet to this woman who had already proven herself so very odious, struck me as somehow worse than all the intimate degradations I had already endured.
“Of course, Your Highness. She will be well cared for.” Mistress Orela’s gaze swept over my simple dress—the only clothing Prince Hendren had permitted me for the journey. “Come, Viola. Your education begins immediately. Your Royal Highness will follow her progress closely, I know, as you said last night. I will also consult your preferences for your concubine’s training as appropriate.”
“As I mentioned last night, Viola has had a Prosperian governor installed,” the prince said. “Would it be of use during her Academy training?”
“Very much, Your Royal Highness,” Mistress Orela replied with a smile. “In fact, the Euporian council will soon debatethe wisdom of a pilot program here to see whether Euporian women would benefit from having governors to help them control themselves, and please their husbands more fully. If I understand correctly, you’re able to transfer control of Viola’s governor to me?”
“That’s right,” Prince Hendren said, nodding. He took his handheld from his breast pocket. “I must say that her cunny seems extremely… amenable, shall we say… to the governor’s control. Indeed I was rather surprised last night by the results.”
I felt like I might actually vanish into the ground, or simply evanesce from the face of the planet. My forehead had creased so hard it hurt, and my eyes had fixed themselves on Mistress Orela’s sensible black shoes. Worst of all, as I remembered how brutally my master had used me the previous night, my pussy clenched between my thighs.
To my horror, the device in Prince Hendren’s hand beeped.
