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But my guardian merely raised an eyebrow.
“Look at Viola, my dear,” he said. “See how she’s blushing?”
My eyes did go to the other woman’s face, but it wasn’t the blush I observed there that told me the major had divined a mortifying truth—I could easily have concluded that Viola’s red face came from having to come wash me between my legs. No, the president’s furtive glances—first at my guardian and then at the prince—gave away the humiliating fact that, yes, as bizarre as it seemed, Viola Herranofar felt in some way envious of my nakedness and my degradation and the promise of my sexual training and compulsory concubinage.
My jaw dropped. The prince noticed.
“Don’t be so surprised, Sara,” His Royal Highness said. “As you heard, Viola has spent a great more time indulging her fantasies in bed than you have, though her actual sex life—”
Viola cut him off with a cry of protest. “No!”
To my surprise, the prince suddenly became much sterner than I had yet seen him. He took a step forward from where he had stood behind her, and turned to face the president.
“Give me the basin, Viola,” he said.
My breathing had begun to come in tiny gasps, my naked breasts heaving with its jagged rhythm and my heart pounding as I saw the terrified look on Viola’s face.
“What… what are you going to do… Y-your Royal…”
“Give me the basin, girl,” the prince thundered, “or this is going to be much worse for you.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered, my eyes going to Major Harrow’s face. I found him—just as I always seemed to—looking right back at me, evaluating my reaction.
It couldn’t be going to unfold the way I thought it would… it couldn’t…
I felt my pussy start to warm, and then the tingle, and the little jerk of frustration as I had another tiny clench. But I didn’t have to worry that my private parts would receive degrading attention, just then, because all the shameful attention in the room had gone to Viola.
With tears in her eyes she held the basin up so the prince could take it. He turned to give it to my guardian, who put it on the bedside table while His Royal Highness turned back to Viola.
“I’ve had enough of your fractious attitude, Viola,” he said, his voice calm but very severe. “Come here.”
He issued the command in a way different from any usage ofcome hereI had ever experienced, because he accompanied the words with a reaching out of his arm.
I hardly had time to register the movement, because its results occurred so suddenly and so dramatically: before I even understood what His Royal Highness meant to do he had upended Viola over his knee, somehow effortlessly adopting a spread-legged stance that allowed him to control her completely in that posture while still standing up.
Oh, no,I thought desperately as I felt the governor at work again and knew my guardian would see how my lewd mind and my wanton pussy had reacted.Not that way… please.
That way: over his knee. I had managed, I had come to realize over the past few hours, to keep myself from the knowledge of all the things my mind had taken in, from my very different culture, about how the Magisterians did things. How could the very idea of an independent woman like Viola Herranofar, president of Artemisia, going over the knee of Prince Hendren of Magisteria, seem to have a direct route to my sexual imagination? How did I know that when a man put a girl over his knee it meant she had the most embarrassing sort of lesson coming?
The prince held the struggling Viola down against his hip and over his thigh easily with his left arm across her back. He had turned so that she faced me, though she was twisting her head widely this way and that. I could see her terrified and yet terribly aroused expression, though.
I got my first spanking this morning, Viola, I thought, my bitterness and my defiance returning—the more strongly now that I could direct it at my former boss and not at the guardian for whom my heart and my body seemed to have such traitorous feelings.It’s long past time you get yours.
I watched the prince’s right hand reach down and almost casually take hold of the hem of the plaid schoolgirl skirt. He pulled it up and tucked it into the skirt’s waistband. I couldn’t see Viola’s panties, and I had another awful moment of tingling in my clit as I understood with much too much clarity how I longed to see them—above all because I knew they would come down so soon.
I could see the prince’s hand return, though, and take hold of the unseen underwear. I saw His Royal Highness’ body shift as he drew them down to Viola’s knees.
“No!” she yelled. “Oh… fuck… no, please. Stop! I’ll… I’ll do anything!”
“Yes,” the prince said. “I’m sure you will, once we get you sorted out. For now, though, you’re going to learn not to talk back when I decide to tell someone, like Sara here, about your sex life.”
“No,” Viola sobbed. “Please.”
She struggled anew, tried desperately to escape from the arm that pinioned her over the prince’s knee, but he obviously had finished discussing the matter. His arm went up nearly to the level of his shoulder, his hand shaped into a flat surface, and then it came down with a smack that echoed off the walls of the president’s former state bedroom.
My eyes went to my guardian’s face. A little to my surprise, I found that his attention had shifted away from me; he had looked down, for some reason. I had a nanosecond of confusion before I understood—and Ifeltit before my mind caught up, and I realized that the major must be looking at the controller in his hand.
I felt that he had turned the governor up, and I cried out, because at the same time I heard the prince spank Viola again, and I heard her cry out piteously as she got the first real punishment of her life.
