Page 57 of Her Alien Guardian

“Spread your knees, girl,” Dr. Porter instructed, his tone firm. “Wider, please. Your punishment must be thorough, and that includes exposing your most intimate areas.”

Elara complied with a whimper, her freckled cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she spread her legs. The posture revealed her completely, put her most private parts on display for all to see. I noticed Mr. Thornton shift slightly in his seat, his eyes fixed intently on his ward.

Dr. Porter worked methodically, securing Elara’s wrists and ankles with the leather straps. Each buckle closed with a quiet click that seemed to reverberate through the quiet room. As he tightened the final strap across Elara’s lower back, ensuring she couldn’t move her hips, I heard Tessara’s sharp intake of breath.

I glanced over at my ward, noting how she had tensed at the sound. Her imagination was clearly running wild, anticipating her own turn on the whipping horse. The governor between her legs again made my handheld buzz in my pocket.

“There now,” Dr. Porter said, stepping back. “That will keep you from hurting yourself or interfering with your chastisement, naughty miss.”

Tessara

I felt my forehead crease, and my breath came in little pants through my nose. I heard Dr. Porter’s footsteps move away from the whipping horse, followed by the soft beep of his handheld device. “I’m turning your governor down to level three, Miss Elara,” he announced. “You will feel every stroke of the cane acutely, but your private part will also remain sensitive, to help you learn self-control.”

My tummy flipped at his words. I knew all too well how intensely unpleasant sensations could be with the governor set low. The thought of poor Elara, strapped down and helpless, experiencing the full force of her punishment—and yet also the confusion of her cunny’s unwelcome arousal—made me tremble.

The sound of a drawer opening reached my ears, followed by the whisper of wood against wood. My breath caught as I realized Dr. Porter must be retrieving his cane. The air in the room seemed to thicken with anticipation.

Suddenly, a sharp whoosh cut through the silence, making me flinch. I realized Dr. Porter was testing his cane, swishing it through the air. Once, twice, three times the sound sliced the air, each whistle of the thin rod making my heart race faster.

Despite Dr. Porter’s instructions to face the wall, I couldn’t help but turn my head slightly, stealing a glance at the scene behind me. The sight made my breath catch in my throat. Elara’s pale, freckled bottom was raised high, perfectly positioned for punishment. Her auburn curls spilled over her face, partially hiding her tearstained cheeks. She looked so small, so vulnerable strapped to the imposing wooden structure.

I quickly turned back to face the wall, my cheeks burning with shame at my disobedience. But the image of Elara, bound and waiting for her punishment, was seared into my mind. To myhorror, I felt a pulse of arousal between my legs, quickly curbed by my governor. The mixture of fear, sympathy, and unwelcome excitement left me feeling dizzy and confused.

“Prepare yourself, Miss Elara,” Dr. Porter’s voice rang out, stern and unyielding. “You will receive six strokes for your misbehavior.”

I heard Elara’s muffled sob, and my heart ached for her. I wanted to run to her, to comfort her, but I knew that was impossible. We both had to face the consequences of our actions.

The room fell deathly silent for a moment. Then, with a whistling sound that seemed to last an eternity, I heard the cane slice through the air. The crack as it connected with Elara’s bottom was like a gunshot in the quiet room, followed almost immediately by Elara’s anguished cry.

I couldn’t help but flinch at the sound, a shudder running through my body. Tears sprang to my eyes, both in sympathy for Elara and in fear of my own impending punishment.

Before Elara’s cry had fully faded, the cane whistled through the air again. Another sharp crack, another heart-wrenching sob from Elara.

The third stroke fell, eliciting a piercing scream from Elara that made me wince. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t block out the sounds of her punishment. The sharp crack of cane meeting flesh, followed by Elara’s anguished cries, echoed loudly in the hushed room.

As the fourth stroke landed, I couldn’t help but picture the state of Elara’s bottom. In my mind’s eye, I saw angry red welts crisscrossing her pale, freckled skin. The image, vivid and unsettling and terribly arousing, made my heart race.

The fifth stroke drew a particularly heart-wrenching sob from Elara. I heard her whimper, “Please, sir, I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” But her pleas went unanswered as the sixth and final stroke whistled through the air, landing with a resounding crack.

My breath came in short pants as I struggled with the feelings coursing through me. Sympathy for Elara warred with my own fear of what was to come. And beneath it all, to my shame, was an undeniable current of arousal, which the tingle from my governor wouldn’t let me forget.

I couldn’t help but wonder what Gamma thought of all this. Was his enormous blue cock hard as he watched Elara’s punishment? Would it grow even harder when my turn came? The idea that he might find pleasure in watching me whipped sent a jolt of excitement through me, making me feel dizzy and faint.

My governor was insistent between my thighs, working overtime to curb my shameful arousal. The constant sensation only served to heighten my awareness of my body, of how embarrassingly naked I was, because of my naughtiness in bed last night.

I bit my lip, trying to focus on the white plaster of the wall in front of me, on anything other than the storm of emotions and sensations threatening to overwhelm me. But it was no use. My mind kept returning to Gamma, to the possibility that he was aroused by this display of discipline.

The thought that a dominant man like Gamma might enjoy watching a girl punished both terrified and excited me. I felt my cheeks burn hotter, knowing that my body’s response to these thoughts was likely visible on Gamma’s handheld. The shame of it all made me want to sink into the floor, yet at the same time, a part of me reveled in the idea that Gamma could see how affected I was by all of this.

As Elara’s sobs quieted to soft whimpers, I tried to steel myself for what would come next. Whether it was Lydia’s turn or my own, I knew that soon I would be the one strapped to that whipping horse, my bottom raised for punishment. The thought sent yet another wave of conflicting emotions through me, making my governor work even harder to keep my arousal in check.

To my dismay, time seemed to speed up as I listened to Dr. Porter unfastening the restraints. The soft clinks of the buckles being undone echoed in the hushed room, each sound bringing me closer to my own impending punishment. My heart raced, and I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my spine despite the cool air on my naked skin.

I heard Elara’s muffled sobs and the rustle of movement as Mrs. Porter helped her up from the whipping horse. Quiet words of comfort reached my ears, though I couldn’t make out exactly what Mrs. Porter was saying. Then came the sound of unsteady footsteps approaching.

“Face forward, Miss Tessara,” Mrs. Porter’s stern voice instructed.

I quickly turned my head back to the wall, realizing I had begun to look over my shoulder without even being aware of it. My cheeks burned with shame at this small act of disobedience.

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