Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Suddenly, without warning, I felt the governor between my legs surge to life with an intensity I had never experienced before. The stimulation was overwhelming, making me cry out and buck my hips involuntarily against the measuring device buried in my pussy. My back arched as waves of forced pleasure crashed through me, the clinical apparatus shifting inside me to create friction that sent ecstasy shooting through my limbs.
“Oh… oh, God… Sire…” I gasped, my voice echoing through the gymnasium as my body convulsed with the governor’s relentless stimulation. My hips moved frantically, working the measuring device deeper as I sought more friction, more pressure, anything to satisfy the desperate need the governor was creating.
The device’s beeping changed dramatically, its tone rising as the pressure readings climbed. Through the haze of forced arousal, I felt my internal muscles clenching around the sensors with a strength I hadn’t imagined I could muster, gripping the artificial phallus as if my body was trying to milk it of imaginary seed. The contractions came in rhythmic waves, each one stronger than the last as the governor drove me toward a climax I knew I couldn’t prevent.
The fantasy of public caning merged with the physical reality of the measuring device until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. My mind filled with images of Prince Hendren’s disappointed expression as he reviewed my political failures, the way Artemisia had fallen because I hadn’t been strong enough, hadn’t made the right choices. The shame of it mixed with the governor’s overwhelming stimulation until I was sobbing with need.
“Sixty-eight units and climbing,” Mistress Nurana’s voice cut through my desperate gasps as she returned to my station. “Excellent progress, Miss Viola. Your master will be most pleased with these readings.”
But her praise barely registered as the governor drove me to the edge of climax, my body writhing against the mat as the measuring device registered pressure readings I couldn’t have imagined achieving. The fantasy of punishment had unlocked something deep in my core, some desperate need for correction that made my muscles clench with devastating force around the sensors.
“Please,” I sobbed, not knowing if I was begging the governor to stop or continue, my hips bucking frantically as the stimulation threatened to tear me apart. “Please, I need… I need…”
And then, suddenly, I knew exactly what I needed. The realization crashed over me with the force of revelation, so clear and urgent that it cut through even the governor’s overwhelming stimulation. My eyes snapped open, meeting Mistress Nurana’s surprised gaze as the truth spilled from my lips.
“I have to ask him,” I gasped, my voice raw with desperate certainty. “I have to ask Prince Hendren to punish me publicly. For what I did to Artemisia. For my failures as president. It’s the only way.”
The words tumbled out of me in a rush, unstoppable now that they had begun. “My people suffered because I couldn’t protect them. I need to be caned for it, publicly, severely. I need to confess my failures and accept the correction I deserve.”
Mistress Nurana’s eyebrows rose with evident surprise, but there was something approaching admiration in her expression as she processed my desperate confession. “Miss Viola, are you certain of what you’re saying? You’re requesting severe public discipline?”
“Yes,” I sobbed, still rubbing my clit desperately in search of more. “Yes, I deserve it. I need it. Please, you must tell him that I’m begging for punishment. That I understand what I’ve done wrong and I want to be corrected for it.”
CHAPTER 24
Viola
The next day, a transport from the Magisterian embassy came to fetch me.
I sat in the back seat with trembling hands, watching Euporia’s elegant cityscape blur past the tinted windows. The Academy uniform felt strange after yesterday’s revelations in the gymnasium, where my desperate confession to Mistress Nurana had apparently reached Prince Hendren’s ears within minutes. Now, less than twenty-four hours later, I was being summoned to the embassy for reasons that terrified and thrilled me in equal measure.
The transport pulled through the embassy’s ornate gates, past guards who snapped to attention at the sight of the diplomatic vehicle. My stomach clenched with familiar dread as we approached the imposing structure where I had first been fully claimed by my master only two weeks ago, though it felt like a lifetime. The building’s facade, a strangely captivating mixture of neo-classical rigidity and galactic fluidity, seemed to loom over me like a judgment, its sinuous marble columns and carved details speaking of power and authority that dwarfed any influence I had once wielded.
Inside, I was escorted not to Prince Hendren’s familiar study, but to a different wing entirely. The corridors here carried a more formal atmosphere, lined with portraits of Federation dignitaries and ceremonial weapons that spoke of centuries of military tradition. My escort, a young aide in crisp diplomatic dress, maintained professional silence as we walked, though I caught him glancing at me with what might have been sympathy.