* * *
The remainder of thejourney seemed much longer than it probably was, but she was given no relief from her shackles or the uncomfortable position she was placed in. Fury mounted inside of her, and she resolved to fight her way out of whatever predicament she arrived in.
By the time the guards came for her, however, her arms and legs were so tight from the contorted position they were in that she knew she would have to wait for a better opportunity.
A guard blindfolded her, and then she was lifted again, as though she weighed no more than a feather, by two guards, who carried her for about five minutes through a labyrinth of turns, past the systematic clacking of boots and the hissing of doors. She knew from the sounds that she must be at a military installation, a place with many soldiers—she could tell by their orderly marching.
She was set upon a table and left alone, still gagged and bound, for several minutes. When she didn’t hear a sound, she started to fight against her restraints. When this proved utterly futile, she began to scream into her gag, thinking the slew of curses she wanted to say, even if she could not pronounce them with her mouth so oppressively stretched.
But as soon as she started to scream and writhe with fury, a heavy hand rested on the crown of her head. It startled her, but then instantly had a calming effect: the hand was firm, steady, and left no mistake—she was to settle down.
She panted through her nostrils and ceased struggling, wondering who was in the room with her, and then suddenly frightened by the prospect of being alone, shackled, in a room with an Imperial Guard’s hand on her head.
Curiously, however, she felt something else stir inside of her, something other than fear, something she preferred not to think about.
“I will ask the guard to release you,” said a voice, too far away to be the voice belonging to the firm hand on her head, “if you resolve not to misbehave as you evidently did when you were rescued from the transport ship.” She heard the tap of something, the timbre of the materials unfamiliar to her. “As you were perhaps unaware of your acquisition at the time, we will make an exception for your behavior, but you are warned that effective immediately all resistance on your part will be considered disobedience, and you will be punished accordingly.”
Lana breathed heavily and remained still as stone. Her situation, it appeared, has just gone from bad to worse.
But the promise of being released from her shackles, and restoring circulation to her limbs, was more appealing at that moment than any thoughts of escape. How could she make this known to the person speaking to her?
“Remove the gag,” the voice intoned. “I must obtain verbal confirmation from the subject that she will comply.”
The ball was ejected from her mouth when the straps on her cheeks were loosened. It was covered in saliva, and she imagined she was quite a sight. She breathed heavily.
“Will you behave properly if the restraints are demagnetized?”
Lana gasped for air and lowered her head. “Y-yeah, yes,” she said, though her tone was more defiant than she had hoped to muster.
“You are the property of the Imperial Guard and a trainee. When affirmation is requested you will address your superiors—which are all males—properly. I will excuse the disobedience this one time. Respond: ‘Yes, sir.’”
Lana’s temper flared, in spite of her desire to restrain it. Yes, sir? Her belly stirred, and the back of her neck burned. She was trying very hard to muster the humility to say the words he wanted her to, but as usual, her mouth was way ahead of her brains. She heard herself, almost as though from another planet:
“Just who the hell do you think you are? I’ll say sir if—”
Her speech was cut off by the voice’s sharp command in another language she did not know, and the very sudden release of her restraints, which almost immediately clanged down to the table, stretching her legs out flat behind her, and her arms in front of her. The relief felt beautiful for a moment, stretching out.
Until she felt her leggings and her tunic being tugged roughly in opposite directions. The skin of her bottom was struck by the cool air of the room, cutting her diatribe short.
She barely had time to be so much as curious about what was happening before a sharp sting ripped across her buttocks. Her skin turned hot as an iron, shocking her to silence. The heat gave two sharp pulses, then began to spread across her whole backside. “Hey! What the!” she exclaimed, but another stripe of white heat rippled across her bottom, the waves of heat crashing into each other as they traveled across her skin.
The sound of her skin being slapped reached her ears, but another hot strip landed before she was able to comprehend what was happening to her: she was beingspanked.
“That hurts!” she screeched, and she tried desperately to kick against the restraints, but they were far too strong. She was laid out on the table, utterly helpless to do anything more than turn her head wildly and wail as two more slaps ripped across her bare bottom.
Did she have this right? Was she actually being spanked on a table? Her bottom felt as hot as sitting on the roof of the house at high light in the hot season.
The slaps ceased, and she panted, trying to turn her head and see where they were coming from, to no avail. Her eyes had grown wet with stinging tears, and her cheeks burned with humiliation as the image of herself—the way she must look to anyone who might be viewing this spectacle—filtered into her mind. Her naked bottom, her restrained hands, her skin welted red.
And—much worse—her most private parts were... were... getting wet.
She closed her eyes, as though she could close out reality further by doing so behind the blindfold. She was indeed being humiliated, spanked in public—but as humiliating as that might be, she was also slick between her thighs, and her inside throbbed with an unfamiliar craving.
“Now,” the voice continued, closer to her ear, but still too distant to be the guard who had palmed her head just moments before. “Shall we try again? Address me properly and affirm that you will be compliant. A simple, ‘yes, sir’ will do nicely.”
Stunned, humiliated, Lana said nothing. Two fat tears dripped from her eyes into the loose blindfold.
“Further punishment can be provided if you care to be disobedient,” the voice told her.
