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In the dim light where Major Harrow stood, now next to the prince and Viola though half a step further away from me, I saw the silver card in his hand flash red. I felt my face work at the humiliating tingle between my legs as the governor controlled my pleasure and my need.
Viola noticed it too, to my dismay. Her eyes went to my guardian’s hand, and she let out a little cry of ambiguous emotion—embarrassment, perhaps, most of all—that indicated beyond doubt that my former boss understood precisely what had just happened in my shaved, spread pussy.
It happened again, then, when Viola’s gaze went, drawn by an impulse she clearly couldn’t resist, right there. The former president looked frankly at my bare pussy, my paddled, still sore bottom, my tiny anus.
“That’s right, Viola,” the prince said. “Look as closely as you want. You won’t see the governor without a magnifying glass, but it’s already there on Sara’s clit, teaching her to be a good girl for her guardian.”
Viola made a sort of strangled whimpering sound deep in her throat. Her eyes had been focused there, where I once again felt one of the little clenches the governor allowed me—and, to my horror, I heard the controller beep and realized Major Harrow had turned it on for the benefit of the prince and the president.
“That’s the alarm that means Sara is getting aroused,” my guardian said. I closed my eyes, feeling my breathing grow labored and the blood rush to my face. I felt the humiliating tingle, and my pussy contracted with the frustrated need, as if desperate to have a man’s hardness inside me. The controller beeped again, and I wished the floor would swallow me up, horrid exam chair and all.
“No, Viola,” I heard the prince say. “Don’t look down. Look at Sara’s cunny. Her vagina just clenched—that’s because her guardian has turned her governor up a bit, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Exactly,” Major Harrow said. “I’m going to turn the alarm off, now. I just wanted Viola to hear it.”
They want her to understand just how much degradation she’s betrayed me into,I realized. Part of me wondered whether it was supposed to make me feel better, but it seemed clear that the real intention lay in making Viola feel worse about her own actions.
“Major,” I heard another man’s voice say, from the dimly lit doorway. “Your Royal Highness… we just got the final confirmation from HQ that we can proceed. Do you want to get that masturbation footage now?”
For the last few minutes, at the entry of the prince with Viola, I had forgotten about the pressure between my legs, the need to relieve myself. Suddenly, at this awful question from the new, unknown Magisterian, the embarrassing necessity returned with double force. I bit my lip and took a snorting inward breath through my nose. I felt my face crumple into a mask of woe.
“What is it, Sara?” asked Major Harrow. He frowned down at me.
“Can I…” I saw his frown deepen, and I tried again, so desperate I didn’t hesitate to do everything in my power to earn a reward. “Sir, please… can I speak to you in private just for a moment?”
CHAPTER17
Sara
My guardian’s face got even sterner.
“No, Sara,” he said. “A girl in training like you has no privacy.”
“But—” I started, and then cut myself off, feeling my face go bright crimson.
“I’m sure I can guess what the trouble is,” said the prince. “Can’t you, Viola?”
I couldn’t keep myself from looking at her, and I could see in Viola’s eyes that she felt precisely the same helpless, unwelcome need. Our eyes locked, and Viola’s cheeks went red, though with her coloring the blush couldn’t have looked as vivid as I was sure the one on my face looked. She shook her head, refusing to answer. I couldn’t tell if she sought to keep from embarrassing me, or from humiliating herself.
“Come now,” Prince Hendren said. “You remember the clause in our agreement about refusal to comply, don’t you?”
Viola made a little noise in her throat. The prince turned to me, and for a moment, fascinated by the spell the diplomat cast and the notion of the clause he had just mentioned, I forgot about my own degrading position. I looked back at Viola, whose eyes had dropped to the floor.
Prince Hendren said, “Sara, this will interest you.”
“Oh, please,” Viola said. “Please… your… Your Royal Highness…”
“Hush, Viola,” he said. The deposed president emitted a helpless little noise, a cry of protest that became a whimper as she tried to keep it in her throat. I watched, feeling my eyes widen, as tears appeared in the corners of Viola’s, squeezed onto her cheeks when she shut them tightly.
“If,” the prince continued, “I judge that your former president here has failed to comply with a reasonable request of mine—such as giving her opinion on your embarrassing circumstances—Miss Viola Herranofar will receive a bare-bottom spanking, just as you would.”
Viola, to my astonishment, let out a tiny sob. I would never have imagined, that morning, that she would even be capable of making such a helpless noise.
“I’ll ask again,” Prince Hendren said. “Viola, what do you think is Sara’s trouble?”
The pressure in my bladder had receded a little as the interaction between the prince and Viola had unfolded. Now it returned with such urgency that I had to bite my lower lip, feeling my face contort into a mask of woe.
“She has to go to the bathroom,” Viola whispered.
