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“Am I to take it you believe in romance?” he asked, giving his sleeves another roll up his forearms.
The question caused her to blush. An unease formed in her belly. She was ready to submit to whatever physical intrusions might be necessary for the Ripening. Probing questions about her beliefs were another matter. “Perhaps we should continue with whatever it is we’re doing here. I’m eager to get it over with,” she lied.
His brow furrowed ever so slightly. He scowled at her for a moment. Reaching into one of the drawers underneath the desk, he pulled out a long, thick implement. Narrow at the hilt and bulbous at the shaft, it was nearly the length of his forearm. “The eye will take your measurement now for a baseline reading.” His eyes fell to her core, then wandered back up to hers again. “Though from what I can see, your lips are already quite moist and engorged for an unaroused female of your age. Is that… something that happens naturally to you?”
A deep blush returned to her cheeks. The question was both humiliating and thrilling. This large male was standing in front of her with what was obviously a pleasure rod and asking intimate questions about her privates. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know. It’s not a habit for me to look at myself there.”
She cringed inwardly. Just him asking this question had caused her to feel more aroused than before.
Torian stepped forward and tapped the back of the eye hovering at her waist. The drone hummed forward, its blue glow moving side to side as it scanned her intimate parts. It clicked and the blue light flashed, signaling that the information had been uploaded and was currently being integrated into the decentralized sea of data known as the Great Datum.
This, too, was humiliating. Knowing that an image of her womanhood, along with its measurements when unaroused would now forever live among her personal information and bio-signature. For anyone with the proper clearance and credentials to access. She couldn’t help but wonder if this really was preferable to the tawdry but far more private ritual that had been discarded. At least Goethen didn’t take videos of his rites of faith.
“Very well,” Torian said in a deep voice. “Let us proceed.” He stepped in closer between her legs, the drone bobbing sideways to avoid him. He raised the pleasure rod and pressed the bulbous head against the apex of her sex. “Try to relax,” he said.
This proved impossible. Her toes, held high up in the air, splayed as soon as the rod began gently humming. Her back arched and her fingernails scraped against the desk, pleasure rushing through her from the vibrating implement. “Oh!” she gasped, what might have been the most feminine noise she’d made in her life thus far.
Torian looked into her eyes with his stern gaze. Reaching up, he increased the speed on the pleasure rod. The intensity of the stimulation made her gasp. It was almost too much to endure, but there wasn’t any way to escape it.
Torian stared at her as she tried to remain still, panting and wriggling because the urge to buck lewdly against the rod was so strong. Ignoring it was bringing tears to her eyes.
“Do not feel the need to resist your impulse,” he said quietly. “It is perfectly natural to crave release in this situation, and there are no rules preventing you from doing so.” His eyes seemed darker suddenly, or focused somewhere else, maybe inward. “I typically employ denial of pleasure as a method of discipline. So if you suspect you’ll be breaking a lot of rules, perhaps you are best advised to get some relief now.”
It only thrilled her more that he seemed to know what was happening inside her. That he could sense her craving and that he would give her permission to indulge it. But mainly, she lingered on the implications of his advice: there would be more rules, and he seemed to think she’d break them. Denial would be his form of discipline.
This aroused her even more, deepening her craving for relief.
But a part of her did want to resist. This all somehow felt… wrong, in some sense. This male she’d just met touching her in such intimate ways. Staring at parts of her no other male had seen before and manipulating them with this tool, all under the pretense of another reading for the Great Datum, this time in her aroused state.
It was just the same perverted ritual as before, only less public.
But any meaningful resistance did prove futile. Try as she might, as Torian pressed the device more firmly against her center, she felt her body shake harder. She felt herself losing control of her mind, her senses overpowering until finally that great gush of release washed through her, and she moaned, the lewd sound bouncing along the bare walls of the compartment.
He held the device against her sex until she began to whimper and squirm in her restraints. Kept it there until, unable to take any more, she cried out, “Oh, Seven Suns! Please! Stop! Mercy!” She grabbed the edges of the giant desk with her hands, bracing herself in case he intended to torture her further.
He pulled the device away and twisted the knob at the hilt. Set it on the desk next to her and tapped the back of the eye, which promptly swooped between her legs and began scanning again. He didn’t try to hide that he was staring at her entrance. Once the blue light had swept and flashed and the drone buzzed, he stepped aside.
Her legs were shaking, and she felt like she might actually dissolve from the humiliation that was pouring over her, now that her intense need had been satisfied.
A gentle sound wafted at them from the entrance. Torian turned and shouted “Enter!”
As the hatch slid open she saw two soldiers standing at either side of it. Between them, his lieutenant.
“What is it?” Torian asked in a curt voice.
“Beg your pardon, sir!” the lieutenant barked. “There’s a delegation here to see you.”
Torian scowled. He picked up a small towel lying on the edge of the desk and began wiping his hands with it.
This time Quaia saw the soldiers stealing glances at her. She let out a quiet whimper. “Captain…” she whispered. “Please?”
Either he didn’t hear her, or chose to ignore her. He walked to the hatch. As he approached it, the lieutenant stepped aside.
Quaia’s stomach hollowed out when she saw High Mother come into view. The old crone glanced at the towel, then leaned into the room, sniffing the air. Her signature crooked smile stretched across her lips. “I see you’ve already begun enjoying yourself,” she said before casting a glance at Quaia.
Torian discarded the towel onto a nearby chair and put his hands on his hips. “How can I help you, Madame?” he asked.
High Mother looked up at him with a smug grin. “I wanted to share with you, Captain, that I’ve taken your suggestion and filed a grievance with the commission. As per protocol they have agreed to send a commissar to observe these proceedings. As such, I suggest that you cease the…” she looked at Quaia and waved her hand slowly through the air, “…whatever this is, until such time as they arrive.”
