Page 55 of Her Alien Guardian

“That’s not fair.” Lydia’s voice cut through my reverie, a note of envy in her tone. “I’ve been practicing for years, and she just sits down and plays like that?”

Elara nodded, her eyes wide with amazement. “It’s true,” she said. “Tessara, you picked that up so quickly. I’m a bit jealous, I must admit.”

Their words made me blush, a mixture of embarrassment and pride swirling within me. I opened my mouth to respond, to downplay my small achievement, when suddenly I heard applause.

Turning toward the doorway, I saw that four tall, masculine figures had entered the music room—Dr. Porter, and two men I didn’t recognize… and…

“Gamma! Sir!” I gasped. So tall, and so blue. He smiled briefly at me, and then his face returned to the serious expression it had worn the moment before. My heart raced, because I understood suddenly why my… my… master—for I couldn’t think of him any other way, at this moment—had come.

My master has come to see me punished.

CHAPTER 30

Tessara

“Well done, Miss Tessara,” Dr. Porter said, still applauding lightly. “Girls, please come stand in the center of the room, if you would, facing your guardians. Because of our new addition, in the person of Miss Tessara, introductions are necessary.”

I dropped my eyes in mortification as Dr. Porter continued. My cheeks burned hot with shame, knowing that these men were here to witness our punishment.

“Mr. Gamma, as you know, is the guardian of Miss Tessara,” Dr. Porter said, his voice carrying easily through the room. “Mr. Blackwood is Miss Lydia’s guardian, and Mr. Thornton oversees Miss Elara.”

I kept my gaze fixed on the intricate pattern of the Persian rug beneath my feet, unable to meet the eyes of the men before us. The air in the room felt thick and heavy, charged with an energy that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Porter continued, his tone grave, “I’m afraid it’s time for the girls’ whipping. They were caught engaging in forbidden self-pleasure last night, and such behavior cannot go uncorrected.”

At his words, I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. My legs trembled, and I feared for a moment that I might faint. Beside me, I heard Elara’s sharp intake of breath and Lydia’s barely audible whimper.

“Miss Tessara,” Dr. Porter said, causing me to lift my gaze slightly. “As you’re new to our ways, I’d like you to note our procedures carefully, so that next time I must punish you we may proceed expeditiously. This is how we correct willful behavior and instill proper discipline in young ladies at this academy.”

With that, he strode purposefully to the far side of the music room. I hadn’t paid much attention to that area before, focused as I had been on the grand piano. Now, I watched with growing trepidation as Dr. Porter approached a large object draped in dark velvet.

With a flourish, he pulled away the cover, revealing a piece of furniture that made my breath catch in my throat. It was a whipping horse—a sturdy, padded bench with straps attached at various points. I recognized it instantly, memories of similar devices used by the Vionians flooding back in a rush of fear and confused arousal.

This horse, however, was far more refined than anything I’d seen before. The wood was polished to a high sheen, the deep mahogany gleaming in the afternoon light. The padding was covered in rich, butter-soft leather dyed a deep burgundy. Thestraps were made of the same leather, each one fitted with a gleaming brass buckle.

It was, I realized with a start, a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. The care and attention to detail that had gone into its construction spoke volumes about Prosperian attitudes toward discipline. This wasn’t just a tool for punishment—it was an instrument for molding young women into proper ladies, crafted with the same level of artistry as the piano I had just played.

Dr. Porter cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. His stern gaze swept over us, lingering on each girl in turn. “Given the seriousness of this offense,” he said, his voice low and grave, “and the need to impart a deep sense of shame, the girls will be whipped in the nude.”

I felt the blood drain from my face at his words.Whipped in the nude?My mind reeled, images of the brutal punishments I’d endured aboard theConqueror of Breslaflashing through my mind.

My eyes went to Gamma’s handsome face. His serious expression told me that he endorsed Dr. Porter’s notions of discipline. I bit my lip, my forehead creasing as I remembered what he had told me, about teaching me. A thought rose in my mind, inexorably, sending an unwelcome jolt of excitement through my system.

I need to learn. I broke the rules, and I need to learn my lesson.

To my dismay, I felt the governor tingle between my thighs. Heat flooded into my cheeks as I remembered that Mrs. Porter had set it to seven, and yet the thought of this whipping had aroused me so much that the little sentinel had curbed my need.

Dr. Porter’s severe gaze met each of ours before he went on. “Now, as you all know, you have provided me with control over these naughty girls’ clothing. However, to further the lesson I intend to impart, I believe it would be most effective for the guardians themselves to remove the girls’ garments.”

My heart began to race, pounding so hard I was sure everyone in the room could hear it. The idea of being stripped naked in front of these men, in this elegant room with its high ceilings and ornate moldings, seemed far more mortifying than anything I’d experienced before.

The guardians stepped forward, their expressions a mixture of stern resolve and a sort of anticipation that sent my heart beating even faster. Gamma approached me, his blue skin seeming to glow in the afternoon light streaming through the tall windows. His intense gaze met mine, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—desire, perhaps, or pride—before his expression settled back into one of stern authority.

“Remember, Tessara,” he said softly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine, “this is for your own good. To help you become the woman I know you can be.”

With trembling fingers, I reached for the buttons of my dress, but Gamma gently pushed my hands away. “No, little one,” he murmured. “This is my task.”

His large hands moved to the magnetic clasps of my dress, and with a soft click, the fabric fell away, pooling at my feet in a whisper of blue cotton. I stood there in my camisole and my drawers, my chest heaving with quick, shallow breaths as Gamma’s gaze raked over my body.

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