Chosen by the Governor (7 page)

Freya looked pleased. What was it about the Earthling he found so appealing? Her generosity had affected him more deeply than he thought possible. Her courage was undeniable—she’d chosen to be a spy and risk her life for a cause. Everything he was learning about Freya, he liked.

He escorted her to the speeder—a round transport pod with a rotating disk that provided the lift to carry it up and over the building then onto the high plateau. An unusual pang of nerves hit him as the speeder took off. She sat opposite him, her head bowed and her legs crossed. She seemed locked down and unavailable. Was he making a mistake? He intended to spank her hard so as to make a point about her safety, and regardless of her protestations, he would see it through. However, afterwards, when the matter had been dealt with, what then? What if she refused to be his? Would he force her into the Volta as a captive or allow her to return to an uncertain future?

* * *

What the fuck was she doing? She’d screwed up in the den with Kiefer by allowing him too much sway over the negotiations. She’d ignored the risks and assumed she was dealing with somebody who gave a damn about her friend. Her morals existed on a different plane and what she had to do was accept that nobody could be trusted.

So why the hell had she agreed to be punished by the governor? Ever since he’d laid eyes on her naked body and forced out of her a stupendous orgasm, she wanted that moment back without the humiliation of the doctors watching. What she craved was the intimacy of his touch and the way he commanded her. It was ridiculous—what would her mentor think of her now that she’d caved in and shown no backbone? Whenever she’d failed a test, he would point out her errors, then tell her to go for a five-mile run. It worked; pounding the ground always helped flush out the bad vibes and usher in a better frame of mind. Was that why Marco was proposing a spanking? Would it have the same effect on her adrenaline-pumped body as a run?

She barely noticed the flight. It was brief, a matter of minutes, then when they entered the docking station, she slowly woke up to her surroundings.

“Wow,” she muttered as she stared up at the dome that protected the city.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” agreed Marco. “We have these domes wherever the outside climate is hostile. Feel the ambient temperature? Much cooler.”

The air was fresh, too. She inhaled a lungful. Flowers grew in pots, palm trees had been planted by an artificial pond, and all the buildings had reflective glass to bounce away the heat. The force field not only isolated the city from the rest of the colony, it cocooned it in a protective layer and dimmed the bright sunlight to a tolerable level. Down in the sun-soaked canyon, hardly anyone stayed outside for long periods due to the risk of sunburn.

He took her hand, grasping it firmly. She hadn’t expected him to show an open display of affection. Should she be saying something?

He seemed content to lead her in silence to the administration building, which was where he had his headquarters. They followed the paths between the buildings. Called a city, it was no bigger than a village in size since it only provided accommodation for a few hundred soldiers and administrators. Yet, she was surprised by how many facilities there were in the city—a park, swimming pool, and a sports ground, which was packed with men engaged in competitive challenges.

“Why so many soldiers for this colony? It looks like most of them aren’t needed.”

Marco took his time answering. “This place isn’t just a penal colony. It’s a military outpost for a reserve force. Tagra is conveniently close to a wormhole. It means reinforcements can be quickly dispatched to other locations.”

She smiled. “You shouldn’t have told me that. I’m a spy, after all.”

He squeezed her hand. “I don’t think you will be able to do much with the information.”

The smile slipped off her face. Was she really never going to see Earth again? She still couldn’t believe it, she refused to believe it.

“Don’t ask so many questions, they get you into trouble.” It was a veiled warning, but unfortunately, curiosity was part of her nature.

He opened the double doors into his office and she gasped in amazement. The space seemed to occupy a promontory, an outcrop hanging over the gorge. Behind his desk was a vast panoramic view of the entire canyon floor. She reached out and touched the window, which spanned the width of the room and climbed several meters high. It was cool to her touch. Peering down, she had to steady herself. The drop was incredible and it was as if they were hovering in the air. She could see the people moving below, walking along the small river, the men in the fields who toiled in the heat to grow crops. They had at least had protective clothing. She tried to identify her accommodation block, but all the buildings looked the same from up high.

“Impressive, yes?” Marco tapped the window. “Feels like glass, but it isn’t. It’s generated by a force field. Nobody can see us as it looks metallic from the outside. So when I bend you over my desk and spank you, don’t worry about your ass being on display.”

She snatched her hand away from the window and felt the heat rush into her cheeks and neck. “You’re still going to punish me?”

“Of course. I said I would and I’m a man of my word. I want to do this properly. When you are punished by me, you must do as I say.”

Freya raised her eyebrows. He implied this wouldn’t be the only time he’d punish her. What did he have up his sleeve? She was starting to think something more than a spanking was going to happen. Did she mind that he was concocting some other plan for her? How much of a say would she have in it?

“What do you want me to do?” For now, she’d keep calm and stay on the ball. Let him lead and see where she ended up.

“First, you will address me as sir. I prefer formality during punishments. It helps differentiate.”

She waited, but he didn’t expand on his statement. Differentiate from what?

“You will be bare. Humbleness is essential.”

She was fighting not just nerves but sensation of yearning. She clasped her hands together and tucked them in front of her belly as if they could hide the multitude of butterflies that stormed inside her.

“Now, Freya, please remove your clothes.”

She froze for a few seconds. It wasn’t as if she had much to remove—a shabby overall and a pair of sandals—but the attire suddenly seemed to hang heavy as if a great weight entombed her.

He waited with a degree of patience she didn’t expect. The black uniform, which had the potential to make him appear foreboding, worked in her favor. Its tailored jacket accentuated the contours of his physique—a v-shaped torso, which began at his broad shoulders then tapered to his neat waist. He breathed in and the plateau of his chest rose, then fell when he exhaled. She wished her breaths were as steady.

She lowered her gaze, finding his eyes too intense and she skipped over his midriff because his pants had bulged slightly—he hadn’t mentioned sex, not explicitly, but his behavior wasn’t platonic either. What he’d said down in the canyon implied more was to come. Instead of dwelling on the unknown future, she focused her attention on his thighs while at the same time she undid the fastenings of her overall with fumbling fingers.

What thighs they were too. She imagined her hands ringing them, feeling their girth, their firmness and strength. The governor possessed the frame of a body builder, not a bureaucrat. The last fastening popped open and she shimmied the coarse fabric off her shoulders and let it glide down her arms and back, exposing her breasts and pointed nipples.

Marco drew in a sharp intake of air. It dawned on her, watching that snatch of breath, that she had some kind of power over him. Yes, he could force himself upon her, tear off her clothes, and crush her with his indubitable strength, but he hadn’t; instead, he’d held her hand when he escorted her into the building and he’d spoken of taking care of her. Hardly the actions of a tyrant.

The way he made her feel—sexy and frankly turned on—was no accident. He wanted her to desire him. He’d pushed her buttons and regardless of rational thoughts telling her otherwise, she would respond positively, compliantly, and perhaps tempt him further.

She wriggled her hips and the overall dropped to the floor, looping around her ankles. His eyes widened into saucers and he clenched his fists into balls.

Oh, yes, this man needed her submission; it was paramount to whatever plans he had for her.

Freya stepped out of the leg holes and slipped off the sandals, leaving them in a heap on the floor.

“Place your hands on the desk, palms flat down.” He moved over to the desk with its embedded console displays and punched a pattern on the key lock. The consoles vanished into blackness.

She made a note of the pattern. It came with her training to file away the odd things she noticed.

Marco made space for her. “Bend over, Freya.”

With her back to the magnificent view, she pressed her palms onto the cool surface. There was nothing else on the desk. The console with its touch-activated panels was deactivated. The shiny black surface reflected her face, the tangled knots of hair that swung down and the feverish fire in her eyes.

Why didn’t she look alarmed or scared? Flushed, certainly, her cheeks tinged with pink, but it wasn’t due to heat nor shame. Her nudity hadn’t shocked her this time. No, something else—excitement? More likely lust. Her clitoris buzzed, wired to respond to the presence of an attractive man, and the silly organ continued to betray her true desires.

“Elbows down,” he said softly.

She bent lower and rested on her forearms. Her bottom had lifted higher than her shoulders. She breathed on the desk and a misty haze formed on the surface hiding her reflection.

“Legs apart.”

He delivered the command in a firmer voice. She needed it. Showing him her cleft, the bare lips of her sex, took more courage. She slid her feet sideways.

“Good,” he murmured.

A wave of goosebumps tingled down her back and legs. Why did it matter that he was pleased? This was his demand—this spanking, his choice of punishment—she’d not initiated any of it. However, his enforcement of the ‘be good’ command was working. She spread her legs wider and offered him a better view.

“A few with my hand, then,” he moved closer, “I’ll punish you properly.”

Properly! What the hell did that mean?

He rested his hand on the base of her spine, steadying her as her legs began to shake. She gritted her teeth and all the muscles in her body locked solid.

The smack rebounded around the room, unlike the acute smart of his spank—a brief sting on her left buttock, then gone.

“Try not to tense up. It won’t help you.”

She nearly snapped at him, but didn’t. She smirked to herself. He had the upper hand in this, not her.

The governor was precise. He landed his steely palm right on the tight curve of her raised globe, where the skin was drawn tight and smooth.

“Tell me, Freya. Did your friend force you to go to that den?” he asked the question before delivering a slap on the other cheek.

“No, sir. I suggested it.” She flinched. The third smack had come swiftly after the second.

“What did they think of your idea?” He swiped her bottom again, harder. Much harder.

Freya screwed up her eyes. So far, she’d managed to keep still, but for how much longer?

“It was a bad idea. Risky.” Saying it, confessing her own stupidity, had sealed her fate.

Marco tut-tutted. “I’m not punishing you for helping a friend. I’m punishing you for your impulsive lack of care.” A volley of smacks landed in quick succession to accompany his words.

She dredged up her excuses. “I just thought… I could make a difference.”

“Like your spying? Discovering the secrets of terraforming, so you could save your fellow humans?”

“Yes,” she finally snapped. “What’s wrong with serving your planet?”

“Sir. Remember to be respectful.” He emphasized his correction with a round of smacks, whipping his hand back and forth between each cheek. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It’s admirable. However, here, on this ghastly hell-hole, your number one priority is your safety, Freya. Look after yourself and you’ll serve me.”

During his spanking he punctuated his words with slaps before ceasing and then rubbing circles around her flaming cheeks. The heat was resilient and the soreness lingered longer and longer after each set of spanks. However, she guessed this spanking wasn’t the full-on version she’d anticipated.

“Serve you?” she murmured. How? What was he alluding to? “Spy for you, down there?”

“Gracious, no,” he guffawed. “That would be dangerous, quite the contrary. I have something else in mind. We’ll discuss that when your punishment is complete.”

He strolled around the desk and she watched him, lifting her chin and tilting her head to one side. He slipped off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. His shirt shimmered as the satin-like cloth reflected the sun rays. Reaching a bank of drawers, he pressed the release mechanism and one of them sprang open.

He fished inside the compartment. “I had a few things brought from Earth. There are no animals on Tagra. Insects and reptiles, but no mammals. Consequently, no fur, not that you need it here, but also, no leather products.” He picked up a long strap, which was two inches thick and amber in color.

Freya swallowed hard and pressed her thighs together.

He folded the strap and held it at the ends. When he slapped it against his palm, she jumped.

“Six. Six reminders that you don’t act unwisely. You’ll forget those spying tendencies of yours, won’t you?”

“Yes. Sir.” Her mouth suddenly was parched. One was too many. Her poor ass was already on fire.

Chapter Six

He flexed the strap in his hand. Would this work? How much of this deep-seated need in him for discipline would she understand? It wasn’t just about spanking her; it was everything else, the whole package. As she watched him stretch the strap and snap the two sides together, her mouth gaped slightly. Her bright eyes reminded him of the fire rabbits he hunted as a young boy on planet eleven. The name came from the amber glow of the rabbit’s eyes. The color was different in her eyes but their intensity had triggered the pleasant memory.