Page 58 of Her Alien Guardian

Elara’s presence beside me was palpable. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, hear her shaky breaths and quiet whimpers. The urge to turn and comfort her was almost overwhelming, but I forced myself to remain still, hands atop my head as instructed.

My tummy churned with anxiety as I heard Dr. Porter’s measured footsteps approaching. “Miss Tessara,” he called, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Come to the whipping horse, please.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. My legs felt like lead as I turned from the wall, keeping my eyes downcast. I couldn’t bear to meet the gazes of the assembled adults, knowing they were all watching my naked form as I made my way to the center of the room.

As I approached the terrible thing, I couldn’t help but notice the sheen of sweat on its leather surface where Elara had lain. The sight made my stomach flip, a visceral reminder of the ordeal I was about to endure.

“It’s a pity you’ve earned a whipping so soon after your arrival, Miss Tessara,” Dr. Porter said, his tone a mixture of disappointment and sternness. “But you ought to know better than to discuss lewd matters in the dormitory, let alone engage in forbidden self-pleasure.”

CHAPTER 32

Tessara

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, shame washing over me in waves. “I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“I’m sure you are,” Dr. Porter replied, not unkindly. “And you certainly will be even sorrier very soon. Now, up you go.”

With trembling limbs, I climbed onto the whipping horse. The leather was cool against my skin as I positioned myself, the padding firm yet somehow yielding beneath me. I felt terribly revealed as Dr. Porter guided me into place, spreading my legs wider and pressing my upper body down onto the bench.

My breath came in ragged, fearful gasps as the headmaster methodically secured the restraints. The stout leather straps encircled my wrists and ankles, each click of a buckle seeming to echo loudly in the hushed room.

As Dr. Porter tightened the strap across my lower back, almost immobilizing my hips, I couldn’t help but picture Gamma. Howintently was he watching as I was prepared for my punishment? The thought sent a jolt of mingled shame and excitement coursing through me. I imagined his stern gaze taking in every detail of my naked form, wondered if the front of his trousers had developed a bulge as he watched me being strapped down for a whipping.

To my mortification, the thought of my guardian’s—my master’s—cock made me acutely aware that my governor was still set to level seven. Despite my fear and embarrassment, I could feel the wetness of my need dripping down my inner thighs. The constant tingle between my legs served as a maddening reminder of my body’s betrayal. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could sink into the floor and disappear.

I tested the restraints instinctively, finding very little give. The realization that I was utterly helpless, unable to protect myself from the coming punishment, made my heart race even faster.

I heard Dr. Porter’s footsteps move away, then the soft beep of his handheld device. “I’ve lowered your governor to level three, Miss Tessara,” he announced, just as he had for Elara. “It’s essential you feel every stroke acutely.”

The change felt immediate and jarring. The constant arousal that had been humming through my body suddenly dimmed, leaving me feeling oddly bereft. As that sensation faded, though, I became hyperaware of my surroundings—the leather against my skin, the slight breeze from a cracked window caressing my bottom, the weight of everyone’s gaze upon me.

Again, despite myself, I pictured Gamma, the front of his trousers even more distended as he noticed the moisture on my thighs. My breath caught as I imagined him rising from his chair, his massive blue form towering over Dr. Porter. In mymind’s eye, I saw him gently but firmly pushing the headmaster aside, his piercing gaze fixed on my helpless body.

A shiver ran through me as the irresistible little fantasy continued and I saw my true master approaching the whipping horse, his large hand coming to rest on the small of my back. I could almost feel the heat of his palm against my skin, its difference from the cool upholstery beneath me. The imagined touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my body, making me acutely aware of how exposed and open I was in this position.

My cheeks burned with shame as I realized I was longing for Gamma to take advantage of my helpless state. I pictured him unfastening his trousers, freeing his enormous blue cock. The memory of its impressive size made me whimper softly, a mixture of fear and desperate need washing over me.

In my fevered imagination, I felt the blunt head of Gamma’s cock pressing against my smallest entrance. Despite my fear and the lingering soreness from the plug I’d worn all night, I found myself wishing he would thrust forward, claiming me fully in front of everyone.

The thought of him stretching me open, filling me so completely while I was bound and unable to move, was so powerful that I felt a little of its intensity before the tingle of the governor took it away. I heard the beep of Dr. Porter’s handheld, and I let out a sob as my hips jerked against the leather belt across my back.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Porter said, “as you may have just noticed, Miss Tessara is extremely responsive. We must make allowances, of course, for a girl who has served the Vionian fleet.”

Tears formed in my eyes, and I bit my lip. Dr. Porter hadn’t spoken cruelly, and he hadn’t said anything but the truth.

I belong to Gamma, now, I told myself urgently.Gamma loves me. Gamma will teach me to please him. Gamma likes to watch me punished.I blinked, because I realized at that moment that I no longer had any doubt about it: somehow I could feel Gamma’s dominant pleasure, across the room.

I tensed as I heard Dr. Porter retrieve his cane, the slight rattle of it against the tabletop making my brow furrow. I heard him swish it through the air again, just as he had done before whipping Elara. Each whistle of the thin rod made me flinch, my imagination running wild with thoughts of how it would feel striking my tender flesh.

Again I felt something that I knew must come from the man I loved: I felt how bewitching he found the sight of me, how he, too, wished he could move the headmaster aside and thrust his hardness deep inside me. I clung to the idea that he himself had sent me these ideas, that his alien consciousness could somehow reassure me of his approval.

Part of me wondered how I could possibly love a man—an only partly human man—who enjoyed watching me whipped for touching my cunny without permission. The rest of me simply understood it, perhaps on the cosmic level Gamma himself had told me of, or perhaps on the much more basic level of my body and its inborn desires, its shameful-but-impossible-to-deny needs.

“Miss Tessara,” Dr. Porter’s voice rang out, stern and unyielding. “You will receive six strokes for your misbehavior. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, sir,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Very well,” he replied. “Prepare yourself.”

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