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 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.”
Prince Hendren’s grip tightened in my hair as he began to move, claiming my throat with the same force he used to claim every other part of me. I relaxed my muscles, accepting his invasion as best I could.
Around us, the crowd watched in fascination as a former president was reduced to nothing more than a set of holes for her master’s pleasure. But I no longer felt the shame that such degradation should have brought. Instead, I felt a strange kind of power—the power of a woman who had learned to make even her own submission into a choice.
When Prince Hendren finally withdrew from my mouth, his breathing heavy with approaching climax, he moved behind me once more. I felt the head of his cock pressing against the swollen entrance to my vagina, slick with the arousal the governor had finally allowed me to feel.
He thrust into me with one smooth stroke, filling my passage completely as I cried out with desperate gratitude. The sensation of being claimed so thoroughly, so publicly, sent waves of shameful pleasure through my bound form.
“For those watching throughout the Federation,” Prince Hendren said, his voice steady despite the exertion of claiming me, “it’s important to understand the technology that has made this transformation possible.” His hips moved with measured precision, each thrust deliberate and controlled. “My concubine is fitted with what we call a governor—a Prosperian innovation that allows complete control over feminine arousal.”
I moaned helplessly as he continued his steady rhythm, my body responding with embarrassing enthusiasm to his possession. The reporter’s voice provided breathless commentary to accompany my degradation.
“His Royal Highness is explaining the remarkable device that has helped shape Viola’s submission,” she narrated, her excitement palpable. “As we can see, she’s responding with obvious pleasure to her master’s use of her body.”
“During her correction,” Prince Hendren continued, his breathing growing heavier as he claimed me, “the governor was set to complete suppression—the same setting used for Prosperian wives receiving marital discipline. She felt nothing but pure agony, no treacherous arousal to confuse punishment with reward.”
I pictured his words sending a bolt of mortifying understanding through the watching crowd. They now knew exactly how thoroughly my body had been controlled, how even my most intimate responses belonged entirely to my master.