Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I felt my cheeks grow hot at his words, the blush spreading down my neck as I struggled to maintain eye contact with the stern headmaster.
“A Prosperian wife,” Dr. Porter continued, “must be prepared to submit fully to her husband’s desires, no matter how… unconventional they may seem. It is our duty to ensure that our young ladies not only accept this fact, but learn to crave it.”
As if to emphasize his point, he picked up the cane and brought it down sharply across Lydia’s upturned bottom once more. The young woman cried out, her voice a mixture of pain and the kind of something else that made my own body tingle with confused desire.
“Nine, sir,” Lydia gasped, her voice breathy. “Thank you for my correction.”
I couldn’t help but notice how Lydia’s body had changed throughout her punishment. Despite the obvious pain she was in, her thighs trembled with barely suppressed need. A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, and her breathing had grown ragged in a way that had little to do with her cries of pain.
“Observe, Miss Tessara,” Dr. Porter said, gesturing toward Lydia’s exposed sex. “See how wet Miss Lydia has become? How her body yearns for more despite the sting of the cane and the operation of her governor? This is the true purpose of the discipline at my academy—to awaken a woman’s deepest submissive desires.”
My eyes widened as I took in the sight before me. True to Dr. Porter’s words, Lydia’s intimate flesh glistened with obvious arousal. I felt my own body respond, the governor between my legs tingling as it worked to curb my rising desire.
“Ten, sir,” Lydia moaned as another stroke landed. “Thank you for my correction.”
Dr. Porter set the cane aside, running his hand almost tenderly over Lydia’s welted bottom. “There now,” he murmured. “You’ve taken your punishment well, Miss Lydia. You may pull up your drawers and return to your seat.”
As Lydia straightened, wincing slightly, and bent to gather her snow-white undergarments, I caught sight of her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with unshed tears and unmistakable arousal. She moved gingerly back to her desk, wincing as she sat on the hard wooden seat.
“Alright, girls,” Dr. Porter announced, his tone so benevolent I would never have thought he had just administered such a fierce punishment. “Class dismissed. Mr. Gamma and Miss Tessara, would you please accompany me to my study?”
CHAPTER 25
Gamma
Alpha and Sala remained chatting with Mrs. Porter as Tessara and I followed Dr. Porter down the corridor. Reflecting on what I had just seen in the schoolroom, I felt absolutely sure that the good doctor’s academy represented precisely the correct place for Tessara for at least the two weeks it would take to get her Prosperian citizenship approved.
As Dr. Porter led Tessara and me to his study, my thoughts dwelt on what we had just seen in the schoolroom, and how I had seen Tessara respond to it. As my trains of thought often did, this one moved out into the universe, traveling from my reasons for leaving Tessara here at finishing school, to how this kind of education could help her become a happier citizen of the galaxy, hopefully as my cosmic bride. My Collective-enhanced senses and intellect told me with certainty that Tessara had in her very nature the kind of submissiveness I had sought for in my mate. Every fiber of her being yearned for guidance, for a firm hand to shape her into the woman she was meant to be.
I watched her as we walked, noting the way she unconsciously matched her steps to mine, how her eyes darted to me for reassurance with each new sight and sound. Even the way she carried herself, with her head bowed just a fraction, spoke volumes about her innate desire to submit.
The corridors of Dr. Porter’s academy were a testament to Prosperian values. The walls were adorned with paintings depicting scenes of domestic bliss—wives kneeling before their husbands, young women gathered around a patriarchal figure. Interspersed among these were depictions of various disciplinary implements and techniques. I saw Tessara’s eyes widen as she took in a particularly detailed illustration of a woman bent over a spanking horse, her bottom striped with vivid cane marks.
My enhanced senses picked up on the subtle changes in Tessara’s body as we walked. Her breathing quickened slightly, her pupils dilated, and there was a faint flush creeping up her neck. The governor between her legs was working overtime to keep her arousal in check, but—as intended and as was healthy—it didn’t fully suppress her natural responses.
I knew that Tessara’s time at the academy would be crucial in helping her embrace her submissive nature fully. Here, she would learn not just the practical skills of being a Prosperian wife, but also the deeper, more profound lessons of submission. She would discover the joy of surrendering control, the freedom found in obedience.