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)
I stared at the implement with growing terror, my imagination conjuring the devastating impact it would have against my tender flesh. The cane was longer and thicker than any implement I had ever seen, let alone experienced during my humiliating training as a concubine.
“I need you to understand,” he continued, his voice dropping to the intimate tone that made my breath catch, “that from this point forward, there will be no mercy. The cameras will capture every moment, every cry, every tear. The galaxy will witness your complete submission to Federation justice.”
“I understand, Sire,” I whispered, though the words felt inadequate to express the terror and strange anticipation warring in my chest.
Prince Hendren set the cane aside and moved to stand directly before me, his hands settling on my shoulders with possessive weight. “Before we proceed, there’s one practical matter that must be addressed.” He turned slightly toward where I knew the cameras hovered, his voice taking on the formal cadence he used for public addresses. “For those viewing throughout the Federation, it’s essential that the subject not be distracted from her punishment by any bodily needs. Proper judicial correction requires complete focus on the lesson being administered.”
My stomach dropped as I began to realize what my master meant. He gestured toward a corner of the cell. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now I saw a small drain, set into the floor.
“Viola,” he commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority, “you will relieve yourself now, over the drain.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. To be forced to perform such an intimate, degrading act while millions watched through the broadcast feed felt like a violation beyond anything I had yet experienced. My cheeks burned with mortification as I struggled to process the command.
“Please, Master,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Not… not in front of everyone.”
“This is not a request,” Prince Hendren replied firmly. “Stand and walk to the drain. The sergeant-at-arms will assist you.”
With trembling legs, I rose from the narrow bed, my bound hands making balance difficult. The sergeant-at-arms moved to support my elbow as I shuffled toward the corner, each step feeling like a march toward the gallows. The drain was simply a circular opening in the stone floor, its utilitarian design making the act I was about to perform seem even more degrading.
I positioned myself over the drain with shaking legs, my naked form completely exposed to the watching cameras. The knowledge that this moment would be broadcast across the galaxy, that my most private functions were being turned into public spectacle, sent waves of humiliation through me that had nothing to do with physical sensation.
As I began to relieve myself, the mortifying sound echoing off the stone walls of the cell, I realized with stunning clarity that Prince Hendren had been right from the beginning. There truly was no floor to the humiliation he could devise for me. Each time I thought I had reached the depths of degradation, he found new ways to strip away whatever dignity I imagined I still possessed.
Yet even as my body performed this most basic function under the scrutiny of millions, I found my mind retreating to that strange sanctuary I had discovered during the night. The governor’s suppression kept my flesh cold and unresponsive, but my thoughts could still find a thrilling arousal in the complete surrender, in the way my master’s authority extended even to this most private aspect of my existence.
When I finished, the sergeant-at-arms guided me back to the center of the cell where Prince Hendren waited with the judicial cane once again in his hands.
“Sergeant-at-arms,” he commanded. “Put the penitent’s hands behind her back.”
The sergeant-at-arms unclipped my cuffs from one another, then firmly but without any painful force, refastened them behind my back. The new restraint thrust my breasts forward obscenely. I felt my nipples harden in the cool air of the cell, though the tingle I would ordinarily have felt at the response died away, dampened by the governor between my thighs.
“Now we proceed to the punishment yard,” Prince Hendren announced, his voice carrying the formal authority of judicial procedure. “The tribunal has specified that your correction will take place in full view of invited witnesses.”
My legs nearly buckled at his words. I had somehow imagined that the caning would occur here in the relative privacy of the cell, with only the cameras to record my degradation. The thought of being marched through corridors and courtyards, my naked body on display for anyone present at the embassy, sent fresh waves of terror through me.
“Move,” the sergeant-at-arms commanded, his hand settling firmly on my shoulder to guide me toward the cell door.
With my hands bound behind my back, every step felt precarious. The restraints forced my shoulders back and my chest forward, making my breasts bounce with each movement in a way that felt deliberately humiliating. My bare pussy was completely exposed, revealed to every gaze as we emerged from the cell into a stone corridor lined with other holding chambers.