Page 58 of Punished and Trained
Hendren
I looked down at Viola’s poor, welted bottom with a mixture of sympathy, satisfaction, and irresistible arousal. Her thoroughly punished flesh bore the precise parallel lines of judicial correction, each mark a testament to the thoroughness of her transformation. The crowd remained silent, transfixed by what they had witnessed.
I moved closer to her bound form, leaning down so my lips were near her ear. “You did magnificently, my darling,” I murmured, my voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. “Your performance exceeded every expectation.”
A shuddering breath escaped her as she processed my words, her body still trembling from the ordeal. But I wasn’t finished with her yet.
“However,” I whispered, my breath warm against her neck, “one more act is required to ensure the performance is complete. The galaxy must see the full truth of your transformation.”
I reached for the governor’s control device, adjusting the settings with the precision I had learned so well. From the full suppression by which I had kept her body coldly unresponsive throughout her correction, I now allowed her to feel her cunt’s natural sexual sensation.
The effect was instantaneous. Viola’s entire body went rigid against her restraints as the pressed-back arousal surged through her nervous system. A strangled gasp escaped her throat, her hips beginning to move involuntarily as the nerve endings between her thighs awakened at last.
“Oh… oh, powers,” she breathed, her voice thick with sudden, overwhelming need. “Master, please…”
I positioned myself beside the punishment frame, sliding my hand between her spread legs to cup her bare pussy. Even through the restraints, she immediately began trying to grind against my palm, her body writhing with desperate hunger.
“Look how she responds,” I heard the reporter, Jana, narrate to her enormous audience, her voice carrying the authority of official journalism. “Clearly the natural state of a properly trained concubine—eager for her master’s touch even after severe correction.”
I loosened the ankle restraints just enough to allow Viola greater movement, then positioned my hand more firmly against her swollen flesh. “Show them, Viola. Show the galaxy how a grateful concubine pleasures herself on her master’s hand.”
Her movements became more frantic as she worked herself against my fingers, her hips bucking as much as the loosened restraints allowed. The sight of her desperation, the way she chased sensation with single-minded focus, the way herwhipped bottom squirmed obscenely as she worked the hot folds of her cunt in search of friction, sent heat coursing through my own body, my cock lengthening along my thigh.
“Extraordinary scenes here,” came Jana’s breathless commentary. “Former President Herranofar is now… she’s actually pleasuring herself against His Royal Highness’s hand, seemingly driven by uncontrollable sensual need despite having just endured twenty-four strokes of the judicial cane.”
I could see the microdrone cameras adjusting their positions, capturing intimate angles of Viola’s shameful display. Her face was flushed with arousal and embarrassment, tears still drying on her cheeks as she rode my hand with increasing urgency.
“Please,” she gasped, her voice carrying clearly through the silent courtyard. “I need… Master, I need you…”
“Tell them what you need, Viola,” I said, my voice thick with lust. “Beg for your master to use you like the lovely slut you are.”
Viola
The words tore from my throat without thought, my body’s desperate need overriding every last vestige of dignity I might have imagined I still possessed. “Please fuck me, Master!” I cried out, my voice echoing off the stone walls for every camera to capture. “Use my cunt! Put your cock inside me wherever you want it! I need to feel you claiming me!”
The crowd stirred at my shameless begging, but I was beyond caring about their shocked murmurs. The sudden release of thegovernor’s suppression had unleashed a storm of arousal that made my recent caning feel like a distant memory. My hips worked frantically against Prince Hendren’s hand as I chased the friction my body craved with single-minded desperation.
“You heard her,” Prince Hendren announced to the assembled witnesses, his voice carrying that commanding authority that never failed to send shivers through me. “A properly corrected concubine expresses her gratitude through service.”
I heard the sound of his clothing being adjusted, the rustle of expensive fabric as he prepared to claim me before the watching galaxy. The knowledge that millions would witness my master taking possession of my body sent a bolt of mortifying excitement straight to my core.
“The cameras will capture everything.” The reporter’s voice carried clearly through the morning air. “This unprecedented display of feminine submission is being broadcast live across all Federation worlds. History is being made here in this punishment yard.”
As Prince Hendren walked around to position himself in front of my bound form, I caught sight of his magnificent cock, already hard and ready to claim my mouth before the watching galaxy. My lips parted instinctively, my tongue darting out to wet them in preparation for his use.
Suspended between desperate arousal and the lingering fire across my brutalized bottom, I wondered anew at the sheer confusion in my mind. Was this need real, or was I simply performing the role of the perfect concubine so thoroughly that I had convinced even myself?
Vaguely, yet again, I felt certain the question should have troubled me, should have made me question everything about my transformation. Instead, I found myself embracing the uncertainty with something approaching relief. Perhaps it didn’t matter whether my submission was authentic or performed—perhaps the very ambiguity was what made it possible for me to serve him completely.
I would never know for certain if the woman begging to be used was the real Viola Herranofar or an elaborate fiction I had constructed. And that eternal question, that space between truth and performance, had become the sanctuary where I could love him without losing myself entirely.
“Open your mouth, my beautiful concubine,” Prince Hendren commanded, his hand tangling in my hair as he guided himself toward my waiting lips. “Show them how perfectly you’ve learned to worship your master.”
As I parted my lips to receive him, I felt a profound sense of completion wash over me. Not because I had found my true nature, but because I had found something better—a way to serve that preserved the essential mystery of who I really was.
His cock slid past my lips with familiar authority, and I began to work my tongue along his length with the skill Mrs. Quinst had so patiently taught me. The taste of him, the weight of his flesh against my tongue, the way he filled my mouth completely—all felt both utterly natural and perfectly performed.
“Magnificent,” the reporter breathed, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “Look at the way she takes him, the obvious pleasure she derives from serving her master even after such severe correction.”
