Slowly, she stretched her hands toward the cold posts of the headboard. The cuffs went around her wrists. Made of leather or some similar thickened fabric, they didn’t chafe or hurt. However, the metal chains clinked as she lifted her hands to inspect her bindings. The chains allowed her to reach down as far as her waist, but no further. They weren’t as restrictive as she thought.
“Now, this is the position you assume in accordance with rites of Astra. She was most particular in her writings about what she did. Part your legs, bring your heels to your bottom so your knees are out of the way and that way you will be open and ready.”
Zara scrambled up to the top of the bed and bundled herself into a ball. Absolutely not. “No! I shan’t. I can’t.”
Bisma planted her hands on her hips. “This disobedience will earn you a severe punishment.”
“I obey Galen, not you.” Tears splashed down her cheeks, the shock finally sinking in.
Bisma sighed. “If necessary, you will have to be bound further if you refuse to comply. Please, Zara, this resistance will not benefit you. You are a prisoner, not a guest. This is not negotiable.”
“He wouldn’t dare force himself on me,” Zara declared, shooting an angry glare at Bisma. “He said he wouldn’t.”
“Regardless how the judge intends to fuck you, this is about acceptance. By assuming this position, you acknowledge he is your master.”
“By flaunting my… you know… at him? That’s disgraceful.”
Bisma lifted her eyes briefly to the ceiling before rolling them back at Zara. “No. You will present your gift with pride.”
“My gift!” Zara attempted a chuckle and failed. It stuck in her throat. “I’m not a gift.”
“Clearly not,” responded Bisma icily. “You are a naughty girl. I’m sure he will tell you that with you over his knee.”
Zara gaped in disbelief. How dare she call her naughty! “Is it that simple to you? Spread my legs and obey?”
“Yes.”
Zara sought a solution, something that would salvage her dignity. “I will lie down, but I won’t part my legs.”
Bisma closed her eyes, her beauty marred by a display of displeasure. “Then, you will bear the consequences.”
Zara slid down t
he bed, keeping her legs clamped together and she turned her head away from Bisma.
“This is your last chance to—”
The door opened. Standing on the threshold was Galen dressed in his formal clothes. His face was cast in the shadow of the doorframe. He filled the hole with his broad shoulders and towered over Bisma.
“I’ve tried, my lord,” Bisma said quickly. “But she is stubborn and refuses to assume the correct position: the first offering.”
“So I can see,” he murmured. “Please leave us, Bisma.”
“If you need me…” Bisma and Galen exchanged positions, “I shall be merely a summons away.”
“Thank you. I’m sure we’ll be fine, won’t we, Zara?”
Zara shrank back into the bed as the door closed behind Bisma.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.
“I’ve no intention of hurting you.” Galen removed his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. “But, if you wish to avoid a spanking, I suggest you part your legs and show me your pussy. Do so now, Zara, or I will turn you over and spank your bottom until it is red hot.”
He’d kept a distance from the bed. It enabled her to see him in his entirety, from the thick layer of hair on his head, down his straight nose and strong jawline to his square shoulders and narrow hips. His thighs, God, she’d felt them as she’d lain across his lap. Thick and hard. Packed with muscles. But what caught her eye was the bulge in his pants. He was eager for her.
She remembered the taste of his cock. She’d liked it, especially how the smooth head filled her mouth and how he thrust it along the groove of her tongue. He’d not gone deep. Would he this time? And where? Was her virginity about to be taken? She was starting to feel horny as hell. A dark fantasy was forming in the recesses of her mind.
Taken and claimed—such evocative words should repel, not tantalize. Yet, given how the fluttering sensations in her belly were drifting south, she wasn’t afraid of him. She decided to give him what he asked for.