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AJ wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Although she had never witnessed this form of sexual behavior, she’d heard of it. She tried to tell herself it was necessary to watch, so she could be prepared if she had to perform a similar act on one of the men later. Her holographic lover never concerned himself with his own gratification, only hers.
He pumped his hips back and forth. Her brain registered the fact that, though the soldier seemed to be the one in control, grasping Dianna’s head firmly and holding her in place, his attention was fully absorbed by the act.
Tentatively, she sent out a mental probe. His mind lay open, devoid of all rational thought. Only feelings remained. She allowed herself to receive them.
She choked off a startled cry. Hunger such as she’d never known – raw, virile, potent – unlike anything in her modern world. A wave of obscene lust poured through her, and she stared openly, both fascinated and appalled. The hunger grew, raging inside him, frantic in its need to be satisfied. The soldier threw his head back, closed his eyes, and thrust his hips forward one more time. His body convulsed.
He sagged against the wall, empty. Then his eyes popped open. Her connection to his mind snapped.
He shoved Dianna roughly away and pulled the tunic down over his shrunken member.
“No more stalling. Get her dressed. Now. Or I’ll send my partner in, and you’ll have to deal with him.” The soldier never looked at Dianna again, storming out without another word.
AJ held out a hand, helping Dianna to her feet. The young woman wouldn’t meet her eyes. She reached for the basket and took out the black cloth. When she unfolded it, AJ saw that it was a shapeless gown, like the ones worn by the women in town that Dianna called Seraphs.
She drew it over AJ’s head. The garment was meant to cover her from neck to toe, but, with AJ’s height, it stopped mid-calf.
Dianna stared at her, horrified. “The high priest will not be pleased.”
Still stunned by the ferocity of the soldier’s mental and physical response to the act she’d witnessed, AJ couldn’t be concerned over something so trivial as the length of her gown. “It doesn’t matter. My punishment has already been determined.”
Dianna reached into the basket again, drawing out a hairbrush and comb. “Please, sit. We must finish.”
Gently, she ran the brush through AJ’s hair, pulling it back and arranging it into an intricate braid that she interwove with fine strands of gold. Dianna left long strips of gold at both ends of the braid. These she twisted into narrow bands, wrapping one securely around AJ’s forehead and the other around her neck. The intricate headdress also functioned as a restraint. One yank on the long braid and the bands would tighten around her forehead and neck, making resistance both painful and dangerous.
Dianna reached into the basket one more time, coming out with a pair of sandals. But they were sandals unlike any AJ had ever worn. The leather soles sat atop thick wooden platforms supporting her toes and the balls of her feet, trimmed back to narrow poles at her heels. AJ had seen similar attire in pictures of Earth women from past centuries. She’d always wondered why females would choose to hamper their freedom of movement by wearing such uncomfortable objects.
Dianna knelt to fasten them on AJ’s feet with the thin bronze chains threaded through loops woven into the edges of the leather soles. Dianna twined them back and forth, lacing the sandals up her legs before fastening the ends together just above her calves.
AJ looked down and noticed for the first time that Dianna wore similar sandals. But the sandals she’d fastened on AJ’s feet had platforms twice as high.
To her surprise, Dianna gave her a fierce hug then went to knock on the door once again. The soldier who’d been in the room earlier opened it. Dianna gathered up the bowl and cloth, packing them into the basket along with the hairbrush. Then she slipped away.
The guards marched in. They tied her wrists together again but, this time, there was no long leather strap tethering her to one of them when they led her out the door. As soon as AJ took her first few steps, she realized why they deemed it unnecessary. The height of the sandals made walking extremely difficult and running away virtually impossible. She teetered unsteadily, finally settling for small, mincing steps.
They took her through another series of long hallways and deposited her into another empty room. This one had a narrow window fitted with iron bars. The soldiers who’d ushered her in and disappeared. She heard the thud of a wooden bar falling across the outside of the door.
The room contained another wooden table and a single chair. Once again, nothing she could use as a weapon. A clay pitcher full of water sat in the middle of the table. AJ sniffed it then took a tiny sip. A hint of lemon. Nothing else.
She gulped the water, balm for her parched throat. Amazing how delicious something as simple as a cup of water tasted when it was infused with fresh fruit.
Thirst slaked, AJ went to the window. The dying rays of Phalyx and Zalyx, Neodyma’s twin suns, poured into the room, sliced by a row of shadows from the iron bars. The window overlooked the public square below, with the city spread out in a half circle around it like an open fan.
Petra lay in a lush green valley hidden in the mountains. She spied a deep blue lake in the distance, at the far end of the valley, created by a massive stone dam that kept it from flooding the entire valley.
AJ stared out the window in surprise. She’d had no idea Petra was so large. From the entrance between the tall cliffs, the streets rose gradually toward her, so the Citadel stood at the highest point of the city.
Phalyx disappeared over the horizon, followed seconds later by Zalyx. Shadows deepened as twilight fell. The torches in her room remained unlit, but it didn’t matter. Her attention was riveted on the square and the preparations taking place there. A large raised platform in the center held a narrow wooden bench about three feet high and equally as long. AJ saw ropes coiled at each of the four legs. It had to be the correction bench where Dianna said she’d be tied down.
Shuddering, she tried to put the coming ordeal out of her mind, calling on the military discipline that had been drilled into her. She surveyed the streets laid out before her, searching for weaknesses she could exploit when she completed her mission and planned her escape.
Soldiers already ringed the square. Two men in civilian clothing lit torches all around the area. One drew close to the wall outside her room, touching the flaming torch he carried to a metal brazier at the edge of the walkway. He was careful to keep his head averted from the window.
She sent out a command. But it was as if the man’s mind had no receptors. Try as she might, she couldn’t get him to obey even the simplest order, like looking back at her through the window.
Gradually, the square filled as the men of Petra gathered to witness her punishment. From the noise of the crowd, the raucous shouts, she figured they’d have come even if their attendance wasn’t mandatory. Apparently, witnessing a Correction provided great entertainment.
A long screen made up of ornate carved wooden slats stood on one side of the square. She guessed it had been set up for the harlots to witness her punishment. Although able to see and hear everything through the openings in the screen, they’d be hidden from the men in the square, keeping everyone’s attention focused on her.
