“Let me help,” he said, his deep, warm voice seeming to surround me in the darkness of my closed eyes.
“You’ll see that as I just said I’ve shaved Sara’s cunny and the area around her anus. This is a preference shared by many Magisterian men, though egalitarian cultures like Artemisia’s tend to frown on the practice, I know. As more Artemisian women begin to identify as submissive, the reparations authority will provide access to discomfort-free heat razors to them—and to Artemisian men interested in learning to take their sexual partners in hand. I think it’s easy to tell how being bare down there heightens Sara’s awareness of her need to serve her master.”
I bit my lip hard, then, because Philip accompanied his final words of public relations messaging with a slightly more forceful movement of his hands, settling my arms against my flanks firmly, as if to emphasize that my pussy and bottom must now remain exposed and visible, on display for him and for the audience. It made me clench, and I realized he must have turned the governor up just high enough to allow it, because it was one of those clenches that went nowhere. The frustration made me whimper, and the thought of what it looked like sent the blood surging to my face.
“See?” my guardian said. “Did you catch that little movement of her labia minora? Sara’s vagina just contracted. She needs a man’s hard penis inside her to satisfy her completely, but she’s been as good a girl as she could, and I’m going to reward her now, even if she’ll have to learn something new to earn that reward fully.”
CHAPTER22
Philip
“Take the plug in your hand, Sara,” I commanded, “and run the tip up and down your cunny. The material is designed so that no lubricant is necessary, but I want you to cover it with your wetness before it goes in your bottom.”
Her beautiful face, the eyes so very tightly closed, sent a pleasurable frisson down my spine and straight to the root of my cock. I found it so difficult not to go easy on her, because at every moment her basically thoughtful, kind nature shone out along with her submissive needs. On the other hand, her wanton pout—the deep furrow in her brow and the way she tugged on her lower lip with her teeth—showed just how urgently she needed my firmness.
Her right hand, with the little number one plug in it, shook atop the bed’s lovely coverlet, as if Sara wanted to obey me but simply couldn’t. Not without more from me—the additional compulsion I had no trouble providing.
From where I sat halfway up the bed I could just make out between her spread thighs and raised knees, a sweet little bead of moisture emerging from her desperately needy vagina. I felt a tenderness as I saw it, to match the stiffness of my cock: this poor girl needed fucking so very badly, and she had never—as far as I could tell—received anything like the kind of fucking that would truly fulfill the promise of her gorgeous young body with all its submissive desires. With her governor turned up to eight, Sara must be aching for a man’s hardness thrusting deep inside her.
I would change that soon enough, I knew. For now, her training must begin. The time to show her precisely what that meant, and how I could use the remaining degrees the device possessed, had come.
“Look at me, Sara,” I said, making my voice sterner than I had since we had arrived at the palace.
Her eyes flew open and went very round as they met mine. Her crimson face lost its look of lewd need and grew very anxious. I knew simply from that fearful expression that she had heard in my simple words exactly what I wanted her to hear: the cane, which I had made certain would hold in her imagination a terrible pride of place.
I knew also that I had a duty to the federation to make certain Sara’s training fulfilled its public relations function, and the fear in her eyes served that purpose very well. I didn’t have to look at the camera lens that Jim had trained on her face from across the bed. I knew that when this footage went out to the homes of Sara’s fellow citizens they would see a highly effective close-up of the girl’s face: the subjugation of their world reflected in the eyes of a high level cabinet minister made to accept shameful discipline and do lewd service to her conquerors.
I reflected, not for the first time, on the wonderful irony of the federation’s algorithms uncovering in the Artemisian public relations secretary the submissive nature that made for such good propaganda. Sara Granzofar’s concubine training, according to the Magisterian method of imposing reparations, would provide precisely the sort of lesson this world’s populace required.
“Do as I said,” I instructed, and again I helped, taking her right hand in mine, the plug grasped firmly in it, and lifting it from the covers to cross her hip. Sara didn’t resist the movement, but I could feel her hand shake in mine.
“You can’t see it,” I said in a gentler voice, “but your cunny is already so wet that everyone watching at home knows you need this just as well as I know it.”
* * *
Sara
I shook my head, terrified for a moment—when I felt the involuntary refusal start with the contraction of my neck muscles—that Philip would grow angrier at my defiance. Instead, his smile returned just for an instant, before his mouth grew serious again. His hand started to manipulate mine, shifting the plug in my fingers and making me grip it by the base so that he could make me follow his humiliating command from a few moments ago.
The smooth, slippery, rounded tip of the toy touched me, down there. My guardian made me press it against the wrinkly hood that covered the place that tingled fiercely with the governor’s mortifying effect. A low, whining hum came from my lips. My head kept shaking no, slowly, back and forth, but at the same time my chin lifted and the hum became a wanton little gasp as a shock of pleasure—curbed by the horrible device between my legs but still great enough that my whole body seemed to take fire—traveled outward from my clit.
Gently he made me slide the tip of the pink thing downward. I gave a moaning cry as I felt it part my private lips, the pink petals I had only ever glimpsed furtively in the bathroom mirror, before Philip and the doctor had made me look. Looking into his eyes I felt as if I could see that hand mirror at the same time in the steady gaze of the man who had shaved me down there, so that I would look the way he wanted when he trained me for his hard penis. I imagined the way the plug’s rounded end slid inward, the way my labia enclosed it greedily, the way it found all the wetness I had produced as my pussy readied itself to give pleasure to the man who had taken me in hand.
My hips thrust forward wantonly, as if I were trying to show the camera my needy pussy, my cringing anus where my guardian had decided my training should begin. The thought of millions of people being forced to watch that degrading display brought another moan, and another humiliating thrust. The governor’s tingle, at this level so close to where I might actually find release from the urgent, gathering need inside me, only served to make my bottom squirm more. My body moved in response to Philip’s wordless commands in my own wordless plea for his lewd mercy.
“That’s it, Sara,” Philip murmured. “Now inside your adorable cunny, just a little ways.”
My head still shook, very slowly, back and forth. “Oh, no,” I whispered, but without any actual resistance.
Philip nodded. “Yes, my dear. You do it yourself. Push it in.”
I didn’t think I could, but my body made the decision to obey without any input from my brain as far as I could tell: my hand moved under my guardian’s, and I directed the tip of the horrible toy a little farther down, to the opening where I needed something so very, very badly.
Something bigger… something harder… than the pink plug destined for an even more shameful place… but the neoplastic thing, so frictionless and made even more so by all the warm, natural lubrication my greedy pussy had produced, nevertheless made me sigh as I pressed it inside my needy sheath.
To my horror I began to move on the bed in a mortifying riding motion, meeting even the tiny thrusts of the plug with wanton pushes of my backside. My helplessly aroused body began to imitate sex with it as if I wanted to show Philip how I could please him, when at last he deigned to fuck me.
My movements became more urgent. The curbing tingle of the governor seemed to gain in ferocity, and my frustration to increase in equal measure. Still I looked into my guardian’s eyes, knowing my own face had become a mask of wanton passion denied. I felt my lips form into ap, but I managed not to say the humiliating word, though I thought it, over and over:please… please, sir… please… Master… let me…