Yes, he was punishing her. However, he would be careful while remaining firmly in control. The balance remained precarious. Little did she appreciate that the real battle going on his mind had nothing to do with punishments. He wanted to tell her. Reveal things about his true feelings. However, it would doom their relationship. Once the ordeal was complete, she would no longer be his to command. She would return to the university campus, then eventually her home city and he would continue to pass judgements. Shaking out the depressing thought of her absence, he focused his mind on the here and now—a much better place to be.
He thrust deeper and looped his arms around her thighs. With his hips rocking in and out, her bottom slapping against him, he gave a nod to Sentaria. He burned to see her come like this—helpless and needy. A superlative combination that his own lust thrived upon. Humans, for all their weakness, were strong in their desire for sex and intimacy. Even stronger than the Vendu when it came to love and passion. He had much to learn from them. From Zara.
With one hand on her clitoris, circling the bud with his fingers, and the other poised to enter her pussy, Sentaria brought to bear his professional expertise. He was particularly fascinated by her clitoris.
She came, naturally with a flare of color and weak cries. She was exhausted.
It was time to finish.
“Leave her,” he said to Sentaria. “Leave the room.”
Withdrawing his erection, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying her on her side, he spooned his body around her and reentered her. She moaned softly as he slowly fucked her using small thrusts. The tip of his cock grazed her entrance, stimulating both of them to a climax.
This was his third spurt inside her. The first, in her mouth; the second, her pussy; and now this one. She glowed as her last orgasm, the twentieth, brought her bliss and sleep.
He slipped out of her and after he’d showered and dressed in fresh clothes, he bathed her and left her asleep on his bed under the covers. With her unlikely to stir, he went to speak to Sentaria.
Outside his bedroom, as he turned the corner, he came face to face with Bisma and Sentaria. They were engaged in a deep, passionate kiss. He stepped back into the shadows and watched as the doctor pushed Bisma against the wall, lifted her skirts, and entered her with a hard thrust. These two weren’t strangers.
A few days ago, when he’d asked Bisma to suggest a doctor with an interest in sensual medicine or inking, she had quickly given him Sentaria’s name. Now he knew why. The Vendu had preferred partners, rather than lovers, those they went to on a regular basis to satisfy their urges. How had Bisma met this doctor and when?
She was silent, accomplished in her submission. Sentaria pinned her arms above her head and fucked her harder. He completed his task with a sharp cry and a shudder.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, bowing her head. She sank to her knees and licked his cock clean.
He patted her head. “I miss you, Bisma. Miss you so much.” He tidied himself and Bisma smoothed down her skirt. She was smiling. Age was no hindrance for his nurse.
Galen would have to keep a closer eye on her. She was a dark horse.
The doctor and nurse parted company; she to her quarters and the doctor to the study where he would wait for the judge. He decided not to interfere with their secrecy—for now.
Chapter Eleven
Oh. My God!
How would she find her strength again after that! It was unbelievable that she had enjoyed the ordeal. All those orgasms, some forced from her, but most had come of their own accord and had been driven by her rampant lust. Those climaxes, each one, had signified something. Perhaps they had meant she had no ability to control her urges, and that she yearned for sex so much she’d become a wanton girl and no better than a whore. She hoped not—that was a horrible thought. She would rather believe it had been her need to show Galen that what she desired was love, not punishments. She smirked as she opened her eyes; well, not quite so, since some of his punishments weren’t exactly unpleasant.
Curled up on his bed, she dozed. She didn’t want to return to her pokey room. The air was perfumed with sex, his delicious musk, and the aroma of sweet petals, which Bisma had scattered in bowls around the room. Zara hadn’t paid much attention to Galen’s bedroom, but lying there, she noted it was perfectly suited to both lovemaking and sleeping. The temperature of the room was sufficient to keep them cool during the most ardent of activities, but warm enough for constant nudity. As for the sweet smells, she guessed they were conditioning her to respond to him. The Vendu man was a potent stimulant. She smiled, then she yawned.
When she woke again, Bisma was tapping her arm. “Come, come. This is not where you should be. Back to your room.”
With her head bowed, Zara trudged to the room ready to be locked in again. She was banished within her lover’s house. If she stood any chance of breaking his resolve to treat her as a prisoner, she needed him to release her from those confines and keep her in his bedroom, so that she could be a prisoner held captive only by his heart.
The next day, she’d lost both the stiffness and the tenderness and she requested a picnic on the lawn outside. Bisma was bemused when she told Zara that Galen had agreed to her request. Zara hoped that Galen might think to join her out of curiosity. But, of course, he didn’t. The man was far too busy to think of her while he worked. Instead, he continued his pattern of visiting her morning and evening. However, much to her delight, the chain was left off and they cuddled afterwards, just a little, like sweethearts. The bed was too narrow to achieve much else.
Feeling confused and unsure whether he was softening his desire to punish her, she reminded herself she had a mission. With Bisma happily distracted with other tasks in the house, Zara returned to the study and tried to hack the console. She wasn’t an expert. However, to her surprise, she discovered that under the desk was a panel that could be removed. Tucked away was a hard reset button. She laughed. Trust the Vendu with their regulations and rules to label it as such.
When she pressed it, the console rebooted itself and in doing so, she was given access to core systems, including mail and messaging. She swiftly sent a message to her father, explaining that she’d met somebody who knew a doctor who might help. She didn’t mention names. Hitting send, she waited, and waited. The delay made her wonder if the system was shutting her out again, and perhaps she should crawl underneath the table and try again.
Then, the door burst open and she nearly fell off her seat. Galen was back early.
* * *
Three days. Three impossible days. Galen was unable to focus on work since the visit of Sentaria. It made no difference how often he saw Zara or how many times he took her, he was never satisfied. He allowed her greater freedom, such as the study time, and eroded many of the protocols the ordeal dictated—what she ate, the positions of submission, and other intricate rituals that occupied too much time, so that he could concentrate on the more enjoyable aspects of the ordeal. However, he grew more unsettled and failed to quell the urges that sprang up when he least expected them.
According to Bisma, Zara preferred to eat outside on the grass. There was no word in his language for what she called it—picnic. Why have the discomfort of the hard ground and insects crawling over her legs just so that she could feel the sun on her back and the breeze in her hair? Certain human rituals were unproductive, but so were a few in his own daily life. The parade of plaintiffs before his bench seemed especially unnecessary. Each morning, they trooped before him and groveled with their petitions before he picked which case he would hear first. The practice dated back to the time when only the emperor could decide on judgements. There were too many cases to hear and those with the most pitiful appeals or loudest voices had won his imperial majesty’s attention. Galen heard all the plaintiffs; he made sure of it, but the ritual of their pleading was still enacted each morning before the court came into session.
He had explained these cultural devices to Zara as she lay in his arms, unchained, and after they had enjoyed the pleasures of joining. She would lie on top of him and trace the creature on his chest. What he chose to display were the most dominant species and ones that were native to her world. The bear was her particular favorite for after sex. While they discussed their differences and similarities, she rubbed her hipbone against his cock until he forbade her. Insatiable girl, he called her. Naughty too. She was due for another whipping soon.