Page 46 of Her Alien Guardian

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.

The Vionians had taken cruel advantage of Tessara’s submissive nature, warping it into something fearful and confused. But here, under Dr. Porter’s strict but fair guidance, she would learn to see her submission as a gift, a source of strength rather than weakness.

I very much wanted to marry Tessara, to claim her as my cosmic bride. But I only wanted to do so if she could be truly happy as my submissive wife. I would never leave her to a pleasure house against her will. My origin in the Collective had given me a profound understanding of the cosmic significance of the dominant/submissive dynamic, and I knew that for it to work as it should, it had to be embraced willingly by both parties.

Dr. Porter opened the door to his study. “Come in, come in,” he said, his voice jovial. “Let’s discuss how precisely you’re hoping I’ll mold Miss Tessara into your obedient bride, Mr. Gamma.”

Tessara

My blush had finally receded, after I had turned my eyes to the carpet so that I couldn’t see the illustrations on the wall, of young women learning painful lessons. Dr. Porter’s words brought the blazing heat straight back to my cheeks. To my horror, I heard Gamma’s handheld beep in his pocket as the tingle between my thighs told him—and, I felt sure, the headmaster—just how profound an effect the thought of my training as Gamma’s wife had on me.

My heart raced as I listened to Dr. Porter and Gamma discuss my future. Marriage? To Gamma? The idea had seemed impossible despite how frequently it had come up. I had thought it must just be the way Prosperians talked, as if every girl were a potential bride, and Gamma had simply gone along with it, intending to keep me as a concubine. Yet here they were, speaking of it as if it were a foregone conclusion. I felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the implications.

“You see, Dr. Porter,” Gamma was saying, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine, “I hope to find in Tessara a wife who not only submits to my will, but finds true fulfillment in doing so. Even when the lessons I must teach her are… painful.”

I couldn’t suppress a whimper at his words, images of the caning we had just witnessed flashing through my mind. Would Gamma discipline me that way? The familiar, confused knot of fear and excitement lit up my nerves.

Dr. Porter nodded sagely, his keen eyes studying me. “I see,” he murmured. “And you believe Miss Tessara has the potential for such deep submission? Certainly the medical findings were ambiguous—not excluding the possibility of such depth, I grant you, but also not confirming it.”

“I do understand that,” Gamma confirmed. “You must understand how deeply I think her Vionian servitude confused her. I believe she merely needs guidance, structure. The kind your academy can provide.”

The headmaster’s gaze sharpened. “Indeed. Well then, Mr. Gamma, if I’m to properly assess what we’re dealing with, I’ll need to examine the girl more thoroughly.” He paused, his tone becoming more clinical. “Please display Miss Tessara naked for me.”

I gasped, my eyes going wide as I looked to Gamma in disbelief. Surely he wouldn’t…

But Gamma was already nodding, his large hand coming to rest on the small of my back. “Of course, Doctor. Tessara, why don’t you stand in the center of the room, there, and I’ll unfasten your clothing so you may take it off, and the doctor may inspect you.”

I stood frozen, unable to process what was happening. The room suddenly felt too warm, too small. I opened my mouth to protest, but no words came out.

“Now, Tessara,” Gamma said, his tone gentle but firm. “Remember what we discussed about obedience.”

On trembling knees, I advanced across the carpet, my eyes downcast to its complicated floral pattern.

“Let us sit down, Mr. Gamma,” I heard Dr. Porter say, “so we may enjoy what will be, I am certain, a very pretty sight.”

They sat in the leather-upholstered easy chairs that flanked the carpet, though I could only see their polished shoes and the dark fabric of their trousers. I heard a chime, and I felt my gown loosen at the neck and the waist. Then as if by sorcery, the fabric whispered as it fell away, pooling at my feet.

“All of it, if you don’t mind, Mr. Gamma,” Dr. Porter instructed, his clinical gaze sweeping over me.

I swallowed hard as I heard another chime, and I felt another loosening—at the neck of my chemise and the waistband of my drawers.

“Go ahead, sweet one,” Gamma said, his voice a little stern.

Closing my eyes, I slipped off my chemise and drawers. The air of the study felt cool on my bare skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and legs. I stood there, naked and vulnerable, my arms instinctively moving to cover myself.

“Arms at your sides,” Gamma instructed. “Let the doctor see you.”

Slowly, I lowered my arms. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear the weight of their scrutiny. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the pounding of my heart in my ears.

“Excellent,” Dr. Porter murmured. “Now, Miss Tessara, open your eyes and look at me.”

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, meeting Dr. Porter’s intense gaze. His clinical appraisal made me feel absolutely helpless, as if he could see not just my naked body but into the very depths of my being.

---