Chosen by the Governor (8 page)

He circled around the desk, approaching her from the opposing side. She was balancing on the tips of her trembling toes and her knees were knocked together, locking her slit out of sight. He tapped her heels with the end of his boot and slowly nudged her legs back apart.

Such an ass. He’d admired many a fine ass in his time, but this girl had one that could take the crown for best ass. The lobes formed perfect semi-circles at the tops of her thighs—two smiles to greet him. The skin was smooth and until he’d spanked her, the color had been an even shade of pale pink. Now each buttock had a round red patch in the middle. His handprints had merged together exactly where he intended to strike with the strap. He’d prepared her well. Too little and the strap would be intolerable; too much and the rawness would break the skin’s surface.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she implored. She twisted her head around and looked over her shoulders with those startling eyes.

“I’m punishing you,” he reminded her. “Don’t expect this to be easy. You must remain in position. If you move excessively, I shall repeat the stroke.” He was resolved. He had to remain firm and consistent. It was the mainstay of his leadership technique—don’t deviate from a decision.

Her lower lip trembled, but she kept bent over and her legs apart. He positioned himself, raised his arm, and slapped the strap across both ass cheeks.

She bolted upright, cried out, and clutched her bottom with both hands.

He sighed. “That one will be repeated, Freya. Back down.” He pushed her between the shoulder blades, encouraging her to return to position. She whimpered, a little sound, but complied. He examined the mark—a single line had formed a welt. He traced his finger along it and noted it was hot, but the skin was intact. The next would strike a little lower.

He switched sides and whipped the strap across her rump with a backhanded flick of his arm.

Once again, she jerked, but managed to halt in time. “Better. That one will count.”

“I can’t do this,” she sniffed. “I can’t hold position.” She clawed at the smooth surface of the table. He understood. Her need to stand up was unintentional; a reaction, not a decision.

“I can help you, but you have to trust me. I can tie you down.” He waited, gave her time to consider the option. The second red line on her bottom had lifted, giving her two parallel marks. She was so unlike the other women he’d spanked. One Vendu woman had taken thirty strikes before uttering a sound. Vendu women were hardy but often seemed to him detached and dispassionate. He had to spank them for a long time before they surrendered to him.

“Please help me,” she finally uttered.

He laid the strap on the table and returned to his secret supply. Implements he’d brought with him, which he’d collected over the years from various locations, including Earth with its delightful supply of soft leather.

He selected leather cuffs and a thin rope. “Hold out your wrists.”

She blinked away the tiny tears as he carefully slid the cuffs around her wrists and linked them together. Then, as she lowered her body onto the desk, pushing her breasts against the console, he crouched down and hunting beneath the table, he located a small hook, something that probably was used to carry cables. It was perfect for what he needed. He coiled the rope around it, snapping tension into it as he forced her arms straight out in front of her head. She clasped her hands together.

“Legs too, I think.” He had leg cuffs and they easily fitted around her slender ankles. He tied each one to the corner legs of the table, stretching her wider and in doing so, parted the folds of her glistening pussy. He resisted the temptation to graze his fingers along her slit and feel the wetness. Now wasn’t the time. Just as he had to control his stiffening cock, he had to hold back on the caresses.

“Ready?”

She muttered something. He guessed it wasn’t appropriate. Earthlings enjoyed humor in times of difficulty—a perverse reaction, but one he might come to appreciate.

“I asked a question,” he said sternly.

“Yes, sir.”

He aimed carefully, ensuring he didn’t land the strap on top of the two previous blows. Accompanied by a loud thwack, the leather thong collided with her ass and she jolted, cried out, but remained held fast to the table.

He inspected his handiwork. The line was horizontal and slightly above the natural crease between her thigh and ass. “Two. You’re doing well. I understand this is difficult for you, but I will complete this punishment.”

She released a tiny sob and buried her face in her outstretched arms.

He waited. She needed to process the pain. Unlike Vendu men, who when flogged or whipped were treated to a barrage of blows in rapid succession, women were punished differently. For men it was about demonstrating their mettle and enduring the pain and brutality of military discipline. For the women, it was showing humility and meekness. If she understood this, then he hoped she would meet with his other requirements.

When he whacked the strap against her bottom, the loop of folded leather cracked together. The noise made her jolt and its purpose was intentional. The sound exaggerated the effect of the strap, tricking her into believing he was inflicting a harsher punishment.

“Fuck!” She pulled on the rope.

The word had other meanings, he’d learned from listening to the broadcasts on Earth. Leaning over her, he inspected the cuffs. There was no evidence they were harming her. He noted two teardrops on the desk. “Nearly there,” he murmured into her ear.

He backhanded the next. By switching sides he ensured the marks were evenly distributed along with the pain. She screamed with the penultimate lash of the strap. The noise wouldn’t bring anyone running to her rescue. He’d given strict instructions not to be disturbed.

The last one had to count. He waited for her to catch her breath, for the white of her knuckles to fade as she unclenched her fists. The fire in her ass must be close to the edge of her tolerance. This first spanking of his had to be the least amenable for her. The next, if it came to happen, would be different. He would prefer her over his lap and under his hand. Then, of course, if things went well between them, she would be introduced to other forms of punishment. He eyed the little star of her anus. That was one place he liked to discipline.

He drew back his arm, lifting it more than previous times, and swung it fast against her bottom. Not a sound escaped her mouth. It was as if she had shut down. Her ability to adapt, to learn to cope was commendable.

“Done,” he declared. He dropped the strap on the table and swiftly dealt with the bindings, releasing her quivering limbs. She was sobbing so softly, it wasn’t until he helped her up that he saw the tears streaking down her cheeks. He brushed them away with the tips of his thumbs. “Brave girl.”

With the punishment over, he wanted to move on. No more holding back. He combed his fingers through the loose strands of her hair, coiling them into a ponytail and tilted her head back. He pressed his mouth against her breathless one and kissed it hard. She moaned and closed her eyes, releasing more tears as she squeezed the lids down tightly.

She clawed at his shirt with her fingertips. With her back arched, she fitted her body against his and when her belly touched his waist, she felt the presence of his erection and recoiled, disengaging her lips from his.

“Yes,” he said. “You’ve made me so hard.” Painful, too. His cock ached for the freedom to move. The bulge had pushed against his pants, tenting them.

“Yes,” she agreed and without a pause, she added, “Yes, I want it.”

Her eagerness surprised him. He expected he would have to labor the request with kisses and caresses. Even with the consent, she had to understand what it meant to be fucked by a Vendu. “I have to be sure you can do this, Freya. Vendu men are demanding. Our cocks stay hard.”

“Good,” she smiled. She lowered her hand and touched the ridge he’d created. She rubbed her palm slowly along the outline of his rod. He sucked in a breath. The sensation was more than delightful.

He snatched her wrist and held it away. “It stays hard until I’m spent. Typically, I come two or three times before I’m fully spent.”

Those blazing eyes widened and her cheeks flushed bright pink. “Seriously? You get off several times before it…” She drooped the forefinger of her other hand.

Marco laughed. He was really starting to enjoy her humor. “Yes. It does exactly that. But, don’t joke about it, Freya. I intend to fuck you long and hard, and I mean to take all of you. I have to. I can’t hold back from enjoying all you have to offer.”

The smile wasn’t on her face any longer; she’d replaced it with a serious expression. He tipped her chin up and studied her face, the small things he’d come to notice so quickly—the long lashes of her eyes, which were now dry, and the high cheekbones where the tears had landed. “I so want to fuck you, ever since I made you come. You’ve done something to me, Earthling. Don’t deny it, you feel the same.” He pointed to her leg.

She wouldn’t need to look; she’d feel it on her skin: the long trail of pussy sap making its way down her inner thigh. She had gotten very wet throughout her spanking and even the edge of the strap had failed to deter her lust.

“I… I didn’t intend…” she stuttered.

“Don’t feel ashamed.” He ran his hand down her back. Caresses were necessary to soothe her. He enjoyed the proximity of her bare skin and he savored her scent with a long inhale through his nostrils. He smelt a divine fragrance, which made his cock twitch. “Say yes. Say ‘take me.’ Please. I have to feel my cock fill your pussy.” He lowered his lips again, resuming the firm kisses before trailing them down her neck and capturing a nipple between his lips. He sucked the bud into his mouth, then nipped it with his teeth.

She pushed him away. The abruptness stunned him. What had gone wrong? However, her eyes showed no alarm; instead he detected a mischief in them. She reached forward and picked at his pants, loosening the fastening. His erection sprang free, ready to engorge fully.

“Oh. My. God,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

As usual when so sparked with lust, the head of his cock was pressing against his navel. He grasped the shaft in his hand and held it. The pulse of blood coursing through it thumped against his palm. “Kneel on the floor and take it in your mouth. If you do, I shall know you mean yes. From then on, you’ll be mine and I shall fuck you for however long I desire and how I like.”

She sank to her knees, saving him the agony of rejection.

He stood astride so as to lower his height, gripped his cock in his hand, and directed the swollen tip toward her open mouth. She stuck out her tongue, licked her lips, and tilted her head back.

“You won’t regret this, Freya.” He thrust his cock into her mouth.

* * *

Her whole body shook. It wasn’t a trembling born out of fear or anxiety. Instead, the uncontrollable shivers, which danced from one collection of muscles to another, had their origins in her desperate need for sex. The throbbing lines crossing her bottom had slipped into the deepest recesses of her mind. She’d never believed she could tolerate such a punishment, but she had and by the time he’d reached the last swoosh of the strap, she’d lost the ability to protest. The bindings had helped. Keeping her in place, they’d removed one obstacle of resistance—her inability to keep still.

She’d placed her trust him by agreeing to be tied to his desk. She continued to do so when he declared his intention to fuck her. Exposing his erection, he’d held the swollen shaft in his fist and she’d blinked several times, wondering how it would fit in her narrow tunnel. He wanted to use her in a way no man had ever done before and she doubted she could accommodate that cock in such a tight place.

Yet, when he spoke to her, she’d rallied and realized it was exactly what she wanted from him. Down in the canyon, the pit where she should be toiling hard, there was nothing for her. No ambition, no adventure besides that of surviving, and no sense of self-worth. What shocked her most was that his intention to fuck her made her feel alive again. More than alive; her heartbeats raced and her belly flip-flopped with raw excitement. Her exclamation, which came when she clapped eyes on his cock, was not one of fear, but need. When he told her to kneel and service him with her mouth, he spoke with the familiar air of authority she expected, but also something else. He was desperate, too.

She sank onto her knees and opened her mouth wide.

He plunged his cock into her orifice, but stopped short of her throat. His dimensions seemed huge, necessitating her to drop her jaw low and tilt her head back. He slid out, using the groove of her protruding tongue as his guide, before thrusting forward again with a soft growl. She curled her tongue around the head, fighting to find the space to lick the smooth glans. Spluttering, she gave up. It wasn’t going to be a delicate face fuck. To emphasize the point, he grasped a handful of her hair with one hand and her chin with the other. He swung his hips toward her and in response, she reached out and grabbed his legs, hooking her arms around his meaty thighs. The firm pillars of his muscular legs supported her as he continued to rock in and out of her mouth.

“Good,” he murmured.

The shaking continued unabated even when he permitted her the opportunity to snatch a few breaths. She’d sucked on cocks before, but none had been as hard as Marco’s. The trickle of pre-cum grew thicker and she swallowed the taste, finding the flavor sweeter than she’d imagined. She drew her cheeks in and dragged his member deeper into her throat. Her fever for lust seemed to consume her. A fire was alight inside her loins and she dripped copiously down her thighs. He tugged on her scalp and the sharp tingles resembled tiny electric shocks, adding to the excitement.

Freya glanced up to admire him. Her emotional state switched between being savagely turned on by his demeanor and near panic at her vulnerability. Above her, Marco remained clothed in his dark shirt and pants. He’d not given her an iota of flesh to gaze upon. The imbalance was deliberate, she decided. A reminder she was a prisoner, an alien, a subordinate. This warrior, the ruler of the planet, had her at his mercy. The next wave of shivers felt more like a tsunami racing over her flesh. How much longer would he keep her there, on her knees with an aching jaw, while he slid in and out of her mouth?