Page 8 of Punished and Trained
My eyes flew to Prince Hendren’s face, silently pleading. His expression, which had remained impassive and expectant, became stern.
“Viola,” he said, his voice carrying a warning. “Obey immediately.”
With trembling hands, I turned and bent forward, reaching back to expose my most private place to the assembled dignitaries. Tears of shame welled in my eyes as I felt Mistress Orela’s finger trace the rim of my anus.
“Excellent muscle tone here as well,” she remarked. “Has this opening been used yet, Your Highness?”
“Not yet,” Prince Hendren replied. “I’ve reserved that pleasure for tonight, after the reception, to fete the successful commencement of our mission. I should mention that Viola has a Prosperian governor installed on her clitoris. You know the technology? I’ve suppressed her arousal to seven out of ten.”
“Of course, Your Royal Highness. A fascinating development, and a very wise measure in a case like hers,” Mistress Orela agreed. “The anticipation builds compliance.” Her finger pressed slightly, not entering, but applying enough pressure to make me whimper. “She’s quite ready to make her final submission, I think.”
She straightened and gestured for me to do the same. As I turned to face them again, I saw that a small crowd had gathered around the dais—other Academy Mistresses, several high-ranking Euporian officials, and their silent, watchful wives.
“At the Girls’ Academy,” Mistress Orela continued, addressing Prince Hendren, but clearly performing for her audience, “anal training begins quite early. It teaches humility and surrender ina uniquely effective manner.” She turned to me with a bright, artificial smile. “We start with small insertions during their first week of arrival, usually after an introductory spanking. By the time they graduate to their Guardians, they’ve learned they must present this opening eagerly, or receive swift punishment.”
Impossibly, I felt my face grow hotter as she continued her lecture, using my body as a visual aid.
“The progression is methodical—fingers, then specially designed plugs of increasing size, and finally, their Guardian’s manhood. Most girls weep during their first full anal penetration, but it’s the tears of transformation we seek. Something fundamental changes in a female mind when she surrenders this most private passage.”
Prince Hendren nodded approvingly. “Magisterian methods are similar, though we emphasize the psychological aspects more heavily. The physical surrender follows naturally from mental capitulation.”
“Indeed,” Mistress Orela agreed. “Which brings me to our newest initiative—the one I suspect you’ve been briefed about, since the Federation envoy has proven such an enthusiastic partner.” She gestured to a cluster of women standing slightly apart from the other Academy Mistresses. Their uniforms were similar, but featured subtle differences in the collar design.
“The Women’s Training Academy represents our joint venture with your Federation. While our Girls’ Academy has prepared virgins for marriage for centuries, we recognized a need to address… reformation cases.”
I flinched at the implication—I was obviously areformation casemyself.
“Unlike girls, who come to us innocent and malleable, women arrive with established patterns of inappropriate behavior. The Women’s Academy will specialize in breaking those patterns.” Her eyes swept over me. “Former professionals, academics, even political figures from egalitarian worlds—all can be reconditioned to serve properly.”
One of the Euporian officials stepped forward with a quizzical look on his face—clearly the initiative represented something entirely new for this world. “And what will become of these women after training? Surely we don’t plan to allow them to settle on Euporia.”
“Those who aren’t already owned will enter the Federation’s civil service,” Mistress Orela explained. “Their previous education and experience, once properly channeled through submission, makes them valuable assets. They’ll serve as assistants to male officials, maintaining records, conducting research—all under strict supervision, of course.”
“The arrangement benefits both our societies,” Prince Hendren added. “Euporia provides the training expertise; Magisteria provides positions for the graduates. The women themselves find purpose in service rather than rebellion.”
I stood perfectly still as they discussed my future—and the futures of women like me—as commodities to be traded between worlds. The Women’s Academy sounded like a nightmare dressed as an opportunity for the patriarchal worlds we had fought against. The Federation had built a place where any remaining independence could be systematically stripped away from women it considered promising, but insufficiently docile.
First Minister Havelorn approached the dais, bowing slightly to Prince Hendren. “Your Royal Highness, the time has come forthe formal welcome announcement. The guests are assembled and eager to hear from you.”
“Of course,” Prince Hendren replied, placing a proprietary hand on the small of my back. The touch sent an involuntary shiver through me that I couldn’t suppress.
The First Minister guided us toward a larger elevated platform at the other end of the hall where a podium stood, emblazoned with the arms of the Magisterian royal family: three purple stars on a silver shield, and the motto I had once ridiculed to my planetary council:Vir Magister.Man is master.
With a deep crease in my brow and my lower lip between my teeth, I followed three steps behind Prince Hendren as I had been trained, acutely aware of the hundreds of eyes tracking my naked form across the room. The Euporian wives watched me with expressions ranging from horror to pity to something that looked disturbingly like curiosity.
When we reached the platform, Prince Hendren took his place at the podium while I was positioned slightly behind him and to his right, fully visible to the assembled crowd. My hands remained clasped behind my back, my shoulders pulled back to display my breasts, my eyes lowered in the submissive posture my master had drilled into me.
“Distinguished guests of Euporia,” Prince Hendren began, his aristocratic voice carrying effortlessly across the hushed hall, “I stand before you today deeply grateful for the warm welcome you have extended to our Magisterian delegation. Your hospitality reflects the natural harmony between our societies, built upon shared values and mutual respect for the proper order of things.”
The crowd murmured their approval as Prince Hendren continued. “The Federation’s presence on your beautiful world represents not merely a diplomatic mission, but a true partnership in preserving and extending the natural way across the galaxy.”
First Minister Havelorn stepped forward to stand beside Prince Hendren. “Euporia is honored by your presence, Your Royal Highness. We must express our profound appreciation to the Magisterian diplomatic corps for their tireless efforts in establishing the Federation presence here.” He turned to address the crowd. “In particular, we celebrate the establishment of the Women’s Training Academy, fully funded by the Federation’s generosity. This institution will stand as a beacon of proper feminine education throughout the quadrant.”
“Indeed,” Prince Hendren replied with evident satisfaction. “And I am pleased to announce that the Academy already has its first cohort of students.” He paused, surveying the room. “Six women have been selected for this inaugural class, each chosen for her potential to benefit from Euporian wisdom and Magisterian discipline.”
My heart began to pound. Surely he couldn’t mean?—
“Among them,” he continued, “is my own concubine, Viola Herranofar, former president of Artemisia.”
