Page 37 of Punished and Trained
“Yes, Guardian,” I replied quietly, taking the seat Betty indicated with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
The breakfast was simple, but nourishing, though I found it difficult to concentrate on eating while both my Guardian and my Mistress watched me with such evident satisfaction. Every movement reminded me of the previous night’s lewd training, and I could feel the heat rising further in my cheeks as I recalled how completely I had surrendered to their desires.
“Eat properly, dear,” Betty instructed, settling beside me with her own plate. “You’ll need your strength for whatever lessons Mistress Orela has planned today.”
I tried to focus on the food, but the casual way they discussed my training while I sat between them sent the familiar, helpless warmth traveling through my core. The memory of Colonel Quinst’s thick shaft claiming my bottom while I served his wife with my mouth felt so vivid that I nearly choked on my toast.
“Your responses last night were quite remarkable,” Colonel Quinst observed, consulting his handheld between bites. “The governor’s data shows sustained arousal levels that seem to suggest you’re taking to your training, even if you can’t admit it consciously. I’m sure His Royal Highness will be pleased with your progress.”
The recollection that my master had been able to monitor every moment of my degradation sent fresh shame flooding through me. The involuntary image came to my mind of him in his embassy study, watching the data feed from my pussy whileI begged strangers to use my body in the most intimate ways possible.
“We’ve prepared a detailed report for Mistress Orela,” Betty added, producing a sealed envelope from her bag. “She’ll want to know how well you’ve adapted to Guardian instruction.”
I stared at the envelope, horrified by the thought of my shameful responses being documented and shared. “What… what did you tell her?”
Betty smiled with maternal warmth that somehow made everything worse. “That you were a good little whore, Viola, of course. That your mouth, cunny, and anus provided your Guardian with as much pleasure as he could have wished for.”
A chime that could only indicate the arrival of the transport echoed through the house, cutting short my anxious questions. Colonel Quinst rose from the table, his eyes holding mine with unmistakable authority.
“Stand up, Viola,” he commanded quietly. “Come here.”
I obeyed on trembling legs, my body responding to his tone with the same shameful eagerness that had consumed me the night before. When I stood before him, he cupped my chin in his strong hand, forcing me to meet his penetrating gaze.
“You’ve learned important lessons during your stay with us,” he said, his thumb tracing my lower lip with possessive familiarity. “Remember them well. Your body belongs to your master, but your training belongs to those he trusts to shape you properly.”
“Yes, Guardian,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Without warning, his mouth claimed mine in a kiss that left no doubt about his ownership of my responses. When he finallyreleased me, I swayed on my feet, my breathing shallow and my cheeks burning with renewed arousal.
“Excellent,” he murmured with satisfaction. “Betty, she’s ready for whatever comes next. Viola, I can’t wait to use your tight little cunt again.”
The transport ride back to the Academy passed in a blur of anxious anticipation. I clutched my overnight bag to my chest like a shield against the mortifying memories that seemed to pulse through my mind with every turn of the wheels. The other students would be returning from their own Guardian visits, and I dreaded having to face them while carrying the shameful knowledge of how completely I had surrendered to the Quinsts’ demands.
When the Academy’s imposing facade came into view, my stomach clenched with a mixture of dread and unwelcome anticipation. What new degradations would Mistress Orela devise? How would my classmates look at me, knowing we had all been used by our assigned couples in ways that would have been unthinkable just days ago?
The transport stopped in the circular drive, and I saw other vehicles discharging my fellow students. Palla emerged from one, her face flushed and her movements careful in a way that suggested her own thorough education. Morandra stepped from another, her usual professorial bearing somehow softened into something more yielding.
We filed into the Academy in silence, each lost in our own memories of submission. The marble corridors echoed with our steps in our Mary Jane shoes as we made our way toward the familiar classroom, though I noticed that several of us walked with the same careful gait that spoke of intimate soreness.
When we entered the classroom, I stopped short in shock. The desks had vanished entirely, replaced by six new pieces of furniture that could only be described as saddles. Each was crafted from polished leather and mounted on a sturdy base, but the most mortifying detail was immediately apparent—each saddle featured a prominent phallic projection rising from its center, an artificial penis the mere sight of which made my tummy flip.
“Welcome back, ladies,” Mistress Orela announced from her position at the front of the room, her crisp voice cutting through our collective gasp of dismay. “I trust your evenings with your Guardian couples were educational. Today we have a very special lesson, to help you integrate the new understandings you gained last night.”
My cheeks burned as the implications sank in. We would be expected to sit on these obscene devices, to impale ourselves on the protruding shafts while all our fellow pupils must watch us, and we must watch them do the same. The very thought made my knees weak with shame and the treacherous heat I had come to know so well.
“Remove your uniforms completely,” Mistress Orela commanded with the same matter-of-fact tone she seemed to use for every such obscenity. “Everything except your collars. Fold your garments neatly and place them on the shelves at the back of the schoolroom.”
I glanced around at my classmates, seeing my own horror reflected in their faces. But we had all learned the cost of hesitation, the price of defiance. With trembling fingers, I began unbuttoning my white blouse, acutely aware that my body still bore the marks of the previous night’s thorough use, the littlebruises my Guardian and Mistress had both made in the rougher moments of their passion.
The cool air of the classroom raised goosebumps across my skin as I shed the last of my clothing, leaving me naked except for the collar that marked my status as Prince Hendren’s property.
Around me, my fellow students moved with the same reluctant compliance, our bodies displaying the various marks and evidence of our Guardian couples’ thorough attentions. I caught sight of Reb and Lara standing close together near the back of the room, their heads bent in urgent whispered conversation.
“Miss Reb, Miss Lara.” Mistress Orela’s sharp voice cut through the quiet sounds of undressing. “What exactly are you discussing that’s so important it cannot wait?”
Both women froze, their faces flushing crimson as all eyes turned toward them. Even Reb’s striking blue hair seemed to tremble as she fidgeted nervously, her small frame shrinking under Mistress Orela’s penetrating stare.
“I… Mistress, I…” Reb’s voice cracked with distress. “My… my private part is too sore to sit on those things. Please, I can’t…”
