Assigned a Guardian (16 page)

“You wouldn’t be my little girl,” he replied, taking her hand and leading her down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. Really, ever since they had begun having sex, his dominance had come out to an extent he sometimes found almost outrageous.

So, for example, when he got her into the little room, with its queen-sized bed and its high-backed chair, he said, “Actually, some of the guys bring their wives here to spank them, too.”

“What? Why?”

“They say it feels more like a punishment if a girl has to come to the office to get it. And then of course they always do their best to keep the birthrate up, afterwards.”

“
Men,
” Kayla said.

“You just earned a spanking yourself, I think,” Patrick said.

“What? You just want to spank me, don’t you?” She looked up at him, the accusation seeming about two-thirds serious.

“I’m afraid I do, Kayla. But I’m also not going to tolerate that kind of disrespect.” He sat on the chair. “Everything off and over my lap, now. Any more defiance and you’ll be back in diapers tonight.”

He watched her adorable little mouth twist to the side, as if she were trying to figure out whether he was serious. The funny thing was that he himself wasn’t entirely sure. He loved to spank Kayla’s bare bottom, and he knew she liked him to spank it—albeit in a rather complex way. He thought he could see her contemplate the diapers, too, and then she was taking off her light green dress, his favorite of the three styles of women’s tunic-dress—all in rayon, of course—available to Draconian girls. He was happy to see that, as he had instructed, she had not worn panties.

“How did it feel with no panties?” he asked softly as she went obediently over his denim-covered lap.

“Embarrassing!” she said to the floor.

“Good,” Patrick replied, and started to spank her, but not very hard. After a few swats, he took her by surprise, spreading her thighs with a forceful hand and caressing her up front, alternating caresses with hard spanks to her pussy until Kayla cried out.

“One of my favorite things,” Patrick confided, continuing to spank her bottom now, “about working here—though I’m sure it’s true at workplaces all over Draco—is that these rooms are far from soundproof.”

“Oh, God,” Kayla said. “No… it…”

Patrick drove two fingers on his left hand into her tight pussy, and rubbed hard at her clit with his right, and Kayla came with a scream, shuddering over his lap.

As she trembled over his lap, he continued, “I think it’s intended to make younger men get busy, really. I know it had that effect on me, and I’m not all that young.”

Kayla whimpered as Patrick picked her up and laid her gently on the bed on her tummy. He took off his jeans, spread her legs, and entered her, amazed at how natural it seemed already, to do that with the girl who belonged to him. He rode urgently, holding himself up on his hands as he drove into her velvet sheath, adoring the synthesis of the raw sensation of fucking such a sweet, tight pussy and the dominant fantasy of giving it to her that way, as she lay prone under him, her pink bottom, firm and soft at once, seeming to cling deliciously to his loins. Kayla made little submissive noises; he could tell she had already figured out how much he loved to hear that sound—the sound that told him he had mastered her, and she was his.

He wanted to make it last forever, but the situation was just too exciting: fucking at work, and knowing his co-workers knew he was fucking his beautiful, famous fiancée there in the workplace; knowing they had heard him spanking and wanking her. He came in just a few minutes, crying out at the power of his orgasm and driving Kayla down hard into the Spartan mattress, whose sheets the wives changed after their husbands had fucked them—and that, too, just knowing that Kayla would have to change the sheets, seemed to convey the incredible erotic force of the dominance that life on Draco conferred on men.

Patrick brought Kayla to the office every work day that month: twenty-four days of summoning her for hard fucking and the occasional trumped-up spanking. Though Draco had no moon, and therefore the lunar calendar with its four weeks per month no longer had even a tenuous historical reason to exist, the colonists had not even considered changing it: the Draconian week had the same seven days as the old Earth one. The Draconian work calendar, though, gave only Sunday off as a day of rest, and so, six days out of seven, Kayla did her schoolwork in the library at the monitoring station and waited for Patrick to come and crook his finger. She followed him to the private room, and he enjoyed her there. On the seventh day, they helped the birthrate all morning, languorously, in Patrick’s bed.

Then, on Sundays, they got in Patrick’s car and went to see the sights of Draco, their new home. They began, on their first Sunday, with a drive through the colony, which, even at a slow pace and exploring nearly every street in every zone, didn’t take very long at all. They ended up at the tree farm in Zone 3, on the other side of the city center from where Patrick lived and worked.

Patrick already knew the men who worked at the farm pretty well; he visited each of the farms twice a month to make an eyes-on inspection, as a reality check on what his computer showed him back at the monitoring station. Though Patrick’s own station only covered a quarter of the hydroponics farms in the colony, he had been assigned there because it was the experimental station, and so Patrick’s job included comparing his results with the baseline results at the other farms.

Since it was Sunday, it was only a skeleton crew taking care of the farm, but Patrick knew them all by name, and introduced Kayla. The five men on duty all seemed star-struck to be meeting Kayla Lourcy, daughter of the founder.

“Can I ask the question the whole colony wants to know about? Are you engaged?” asked a farmer named Josh, smiling a little shyly.

Kayla blushed crimson, but nodded happily.

“To think that Mr. Lourcy’s grandchildren really are going to be born here!”

“Well…” Kayla began to reply. They were walking through the trees; there were grass and bushes here, unlike in Zone 4. It seemed so much like Earth at the farms sometimes that Patrick could almost forget how far away Earth was.

Herb, another of the farmers, who tended a bit toward raunchy humor, said with a good-natured smile, “Don’t tell me you haven’t been trying pretty hard, Patrick.”

Patrick looked at Kayla. He suddenly wanted to try right there among the trees, with Josh and Herb watching, when he saw the pink in her cheeks. He thought of their morning in bed, when he had pushed her knees up and back until he could thrust himself wildly inside, as his naughty, submissive little girl screamed out orgasm after orgasm underneath him.

“Kayla, would you say we’ve been trying hard?”

Kayla gave him a look that said she was considering whether it was worth the risk of a real spanking to say something bratty, then turned to Herb. “Well, I take what I can get.”

Herb laughed heartily, Josh laughed guiltily, and Patrick gave Kayla a look that said she had an interesting time coming that night.

Back at home, Patrick told Kayla to strip, bend over the arm of the comfy chair in the living room, and wait.

“I’ll come and give you what you’ve got coming. You’ll definitely take what you can get tonight, young lady.”

Kayla looked up at him. “You’re not really mad, are you?” she asked.

Patrick smiled. “No, sweetheart.”

“Good, because I’m not scared.” She stuck out her tongue at him and ran into her room, slamming the door behind her. Patrick followed her, and opened it up to find her holding Mr. Fuzzy protectively in front of her. A little fear did seem to come into her eyes then, at the peremptory way he had entered her room.

“You’ll strip in the living room,” he said. “And your bare bottom will be spanked before I fuck it. And you’ll wear a diaper afterward, because you’re behaving like a child.”

In her eyes now he saw lust and submission. Then, as they stood there regarding each other, a different kind of apprehension crossed Kayla’s face, and she whispered solemnly, “Patrick?”

Patrick could tell immediately that Kayla wanted to suspend their play for a moment. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is it a game, or are we… I mean, are you really going to be, you know, strict with me? And make me act like a… I don’t know, a proper young lady? Who doesn’t get to say naughty things and doesn’t get to express her opinion? Oh, I can’t figure out how to say it, but do you know what I mean?”

Patrick nodded. “I’m pretty sure I do. I think the answer is mostly No. I love you for who you are. You’re brilliant, and you’re bratty sometimes, and I love that.”

“Oh.” A relieved smile broke out on Kayla’s face.

“But I do like to spank you.”

Kayla grew serious again. “But what about, you know, um, punishing me? If I like spanking…”

“Well,” Patrick replied, “would you like to be strapped again the way Joe strapped you?”

Kayla shuddered. “No.”

“I can do that, if I have to. And I will.”

“Why? Would you, if… if I didn’t want to, um, have sex, or… you know, suck your cock—” Kayla blushed prettily and cast her eyes down to the floor for a moment, then returned them to meet Patrick’s gaze boldly, “—or I did something, um, wrong? When I was sucking it? Or something like that?”

“No,” Patrick said seriously. “I might give you a playful spanking for something like that.” He saw from the way her nostrils flared just a tiny bit that the thought had turned her on, and he smiled. “But that’s not what discipline is for. Discipline is to keep you safe, and make sure you know that I’ll protect you, and to make it clear to you that sometimes I know better than you do what’s right for you.”

This, too—a little to Patrick’s surprise—turned Kayla on: she began to breathe a little heavily, and she held Mr. Fuzzy tighter. She brought the teddy bear up higher, right under her chin. It was the most adorable thing Patrick thought he had ever seen.

“I wish I knew,” Kayla said softly, “why all of a sudden that seems so right to me.” She dropped her eyes to her teddy’s furry head. Then suddenly those beautiful blue eyes got very big, and she looked back up at Patrick. “It’s because it’s
you,
” she whispered.

Patrick couldn’t help it. He took a step forward and enclosed her tightly in his arms, and kissed her, over and over.

Chapter Seventeen

After Patrick had held her for a little while, Kayla whispered into his chest. “Sir? Is it time for me to go strip in the living room?” Suddenly she was desperate for the spanking, the anal sex, and even the diapering. Now that she knew the ground rules, the idea of all of it—all the things that Patrick wanted to do to her and with her, that would show her how deeply she belonged to him—seemed to overwhelm her with submissive desire.

One part of Patrick knowing what was best for her was to play that way. Even though he wasn’t
really
punishing her for being bratty, to pretend that in him she actually did have a very strict, very lewd sort of guardian, who had no compunction about riding her bottom hard to teach her a lesson, excited her so much she could hardly bear it.

And it wasn’t like it
didn’t
actually help her keep her brattiness in check, now that she thought of it. She remembered how she had refused the cooking lesson, and how Patrick had spanked her and diapered her for that as a real punishment, because he knew Kayla needed to have her attitude adjusted or she would never be happy on Draco. It definitely
had
helped, and it had led to the blissful happiness of this moment in Patrick’s arms.

“Shh,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll decide when it’s time for me to fuck your bottom.”

Kayla whimpered at the dominance of his tone and snuggled into his chest, hoping that he would decide to do it soon and feeling her pussy grow very, very wet at the thought.

“Did you like meeting the farmers?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. “They were really nice. Herb is so funny. I mean, he embarrassed me, but it was all in good fun—even though it earned me a spanking.” Kayla giggled.

“A lot of guys are telling me I should run for office. Herb’s actually one of them.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. Next elections are about a year away. The opposition party—the liberal moderates, they call themselves—think they can win a majority on the governor’s council, and the council elects the governor.”

Kayla swallowed. Possibilities suddenly seemed to open up in front of her of a kind she hadn’t thought ever to have on Draco. Part of her—the old, grown-up, liberated part—wanted to ask about her own role, and about the Basic Law. She opened her mouth to say, “And we’ll repeal the Basic Law?” but she closed it again abruptly, as she realized that her initial ideas about the complete injustice of life on Draco had undergone a transformation.

“Can I guess what you’re thinking?” Patrick said softly, still holding her and rocking her a little bit, as Mr. Fuzzy was squashed between them. The heavenliness of the feeling seemed almost to rob Kayla of her reason. She nodded. Mr. Fuzzy’s fur tickled her chin as she pushed it into his soft head.

“You’re wondering whether you can be part of a campaign to repeal the Basic Law.”

“Well… yes, but…”

“But what?”

“But I’m not sure that repealing the Basic Law is the right thing to do. Changing it, yes, to let women do more jobs, and getting rid of the part about all young women having a guardian who supervises their dating, but…”

Patrick nodded now, his chin moving gently and pleasantly against the top of Kayla’s head. “But there’s more in it that works than doesn’t.”

“I guess that’s what I’m thinking,” Kayla replied.

“Do you want Marjorie Leary’s job?”

“I could see myself doing some of it—but I think I’d rather keep up with my research projects, and let someone else handle the cultural engineering.” She nestled into his chest even more tightly, though she had to move Mr. Fuzzy aside to do it. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Patrick said. “I think one of the problems in the administration, with regard to the Basic Law, is that Marjorie keeps such tight control over girls’ lives.” He was silent for a moment, and then he said, “I think next Sunday we’ll take a drive to Lourcy House.”