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He spoke slowly. “Just because you have not, or think you do not,” he said, twisting the plug against her anus, “does in no way mean you will not.” He caught her gaze in the mirror with his and held it as he twisted the object against her, tickling her, making her pucker tightly and yet also crave the coming action, whatever it was.
She saw a fiery excitement dancing in his eyes. Her body warmed and the tension fell away. The way he was staring at her, stern and steely-eyed, filled her with an intense and bizarre desire to please him.
But this was too strange, too fear-inducing. She mewled, and then shuddered, unable to get the sensation of the phallic orb from her mind as it twisted slowly, pressure increasing, against her.
“And if I… if I do not… c-c-consent?” she breathed. Her heart was racing. She both wanted to consent and to refuse.
He drew in a slow breath and let it out just as slowly. “Of course that would be your prerogative,” he said. “But please remember that the commission your High Mother has summoned will require a full recounting of your training. I can present them with an image recorded by our friend here,” he said, nodding at the drone. “Or I can present you in person for their inspection.”
She clenched her jaw and gritted her teeth at the choice, glaring at him.
“But before you decide, allow me to add my opinion. Namely that you might discover the act I am about to perform to be quite pleasurable. It may be wise to endure it while we still have our privacy.”
She found his opinion to be an inconvenient truth. Her entire body was already tingling in anticipation, the nerves of her rear entrance stimulated by the plug gently stretching the soft ring of muscle. She knew he was right. Worse yet, she suspected she would enjoy it. Her anger flared at this. “Fine,” she muttered, bracing herself against the table.
“Fine?” he asked.
She shot him another glare. “Just do it,” she said.
He paused, studying her expression. “I will need you to say it,” he informed her. “Consent must be explicit, after all.”
For a moment, she was speechless. Was he taking pleasure in this? In making her face each and every particle of her humiliation? Somehow she found her wits. “Say it? What do you want me to say?”
“I think we both know the answer to that question,” he replied quietly.
Her eyelids felt heavy with pleasure, and her eyes fluttered closed as his words sank into her. This was it, after all: the humiliation that was to be imposed on her through the Ripening. She realized now that she wouldn’t be allowed to simply endure it passively; she would be required to participate in it herself.
And yet, there was a part of her—unexpected and foreign—that wanted to do that very thing. She could almost feel how saying the words would fill her chest with a cool humiliation, how the pain of the implement would come with the pleasure of ultimate submission.
She lowered her eyes to the desk. Submitting to him, to his exact demands, made her feel like she was slipping under water.
“I consent,” she whispered, and for good measure, maybe even her own pleasure, she added, “to you putting that thing in my… in my ass.”
Each word, each vulgar utterance, did exactly what she had anticipated, and possibly even hoped: her chest grew tight, her flesh heated from her cheeks to her throat, and uttering the very taboo desire created a lava-like warmth between her legs.
“Excellent,” he said.
CHAPTER 6
Pressure preceded pain, and in the moments before he penetrated her, it made her insides twist. She gasped, then mewled, as the implement pushed inside of her, stretching her. The pain was swallowed by a sensation of fullness.
As it turned out, Torian had been right. The act he was performing upon her, this insertion, she was discovering to be quite pleasurable. So pleasurable her head began to spin a little. So pleasurable her already damp sex became sodden. Her ears started to ring, and her core squeezed, her body threatening another crisis at being so indecently probed.
She came to her senses when she felt the flange of the plug settle against her buttocks. Torian’s hand was still on it, warm and strong and muscular. He held it there for some time, fingers stroking the crease where his second smack had landed. The pain of the spanking was reinvigorated by the heat of his fingers, and she squirmed, making the implement move inside her. Everywhere it touched was foreign and wildly sensitive, feelings of pain and pleasure mixing together.
Finally, he released his hand. She saw him glance at her bottom, then felt three pats on her rear.
“It appears that in addition to being a skilled pilot, you are also quite talented at being a very good girl,” Torian said, his voice gravelly.
His words drove straight to a very deep, dark part of her. A trembling rumbled through her. She had not once heard herself referred to as a very good girl, or any other sort of girl for that matter. Dock-rat, sometimes. Middle-born bitch when in the presence of her betters. It touched what felt like the most tender place in her mind and heart.
That truth, she could not acknowledge. She burned with a different kind of shame. “Are we finished then?” she asked, still panting slightly from the event. Far more than half of her wanted to turn around and throw herself into Torian’s arms and at his mercy. Because somehow, inexplicably, she understood that she would be taken care of there.
She was grateful her utterance didn’t bring a scowl or a crack of the rod on her ass. She suppressed an apologetic sob at having spoken to him in such a tone. I didn’t mean it. I meant the opposite. I want more. These things she couldn’t say. Relief swept through her when she saw that inkling of a smile twist the corner of his mouth.
He reached up and tucked a stray tress of hair behind her ear. “Quaia, surely you must know that we are only getting started,” he whispered.
His reply made her chest throb at the promise of more. He took a few steps back and rubbed his chin with a finger and thumb. Reaching out, he picked up the rod from the table and tapped it against his palm. He drew a circle around the room. “Consider that an invitation to take your new trainer for a test flight.”
