“Lean over the table,” he commanded her. “And take the position of your discipline.”
Lana toyed with the idea of resisting, but her calves still ached from her previous punishment, and she found that her body was reacting ahead of her mind, turning to the table, placing her hands to her sides. She could feel the pulsing of her pussy as the plug in her bottom stretched her flesh and stimulated her against her will.
The commander stood behind her, waiting, it seemed, for her to have time to contemplate what would happen next. She felt the silky material of her tunic sliding at his touch, up her thighs, caressing her bottom where he was about to, no doubt, leave the marks of her punishment in fiery licks.
He applied a light pressure to the plug in her bottom with his fingers and rolled the object inside of her by moving the jeweled end of it in a circular motion. Lana’s legs wobbled, and her skin shook with an electric sensation, from the curve of her buttocks to her lower back, anticipating the sting of her discipline.
The first of his innumerable spanks stung sharply and made her gasp. Heat engulfed her skin and her eyes stung, watering as they had from her oral training. The slaps continued to rain down on her bottom, each one sharper than the one before, spilling heat and sharp pain into the ever-growing lake of fire spreading across her skin. She chewed her lip and curled her fingers toward the table, noting that he had not activated her wrists yet; she could lift them from the table.
As the intensity of the spanking mounted, one of her hands lifted involuntarily to cover her backside, but it did not reach her skin before it was pulled, by Golan himself, to the table. “You will take your punishment and thank me for it,” he growled, punctuating every other word with a harsh spank. “You will obey, and submit to your training, Atrix.”
Stifling a sob, she pressed her hand to the table and fought to keep it there as the painful slaps crescendoed in a fiery numbness, broken only by the sting of each new slap.
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed through tears. “I am sorry, sir. Please... I’ve... I’ve learned my lesson.”
The commander continued to spank her, and she lost the ability to speak, wondering when he would decide she was properly disciplined.
The painful slaps stopped, and she felt the heat of his hand on her burning skin as he rubbed it, delivering an uncomfortable, but distinctly pleasurable feeling that cut through her core. “You will try again, and you will be obedient. And when you are finished, we will remove this plug, and replace it with another.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured.
“And if you are good,” the commander breathed quietly, “you will be given the relief that you crave. But you must work for it.”
Lana tried desperately to fight the shiver of pleasure that traveled through her body. How could she experience... pleasure? At the thought of submitting to this training, to becoming a slave to the sexual appetites of a wild, violent Galleon?
“Stand up,” the commander told her. “Turn and kneel.”
She obeyed, and looked up at the commander, who reached forward to wipe a tear gently from her face. The gesture confused her further, sending a stirring swirl of pleasure through her abdomen. “I can see that you want to embrace your nature, Atrix,” the commander said. “You will be happier when you accept your fate and learn to please your new mate.”
The pole rose again from the floor, the phallus still attached to it.
Lana put her hands behind her back, and opened her mouth, her eyes on the commander. The act of submission plucked a string inside of her, and she told herself that she would give in to what she was feeling only to convince her captor, only for that...
She opened her mouth, and let the phallus slide into her throat, forgetting—temporarily, she told herself—her spirit of resistance, giving in, attempting to please the commander, and to be good.
To get the relief she craved, and to avoid another spanking, or worse.
That was the only reason she was submitting to any of this.
“Good girl,” the commander said, after she had swallowed the entire phallus and obeyed his commands. As the object slid into her mouth, she had to stretch her jaw wide, and yet another part of her body rejected and, at the same time, welcomed the ache of accommodating a fullness she was unaccustomed to. The commander was encouraging, sliding the phallus from her throat when she could almost bear no more, allowing her to breathe, and then slowly entering her mouth even deeper with the next insertion.
She finally managed to get the entire phallus in her throat. The urge to gag had left her, and while she would have admitted it to no one, the sensation of fitting the rubbery object down her throat made her pussy drip. She could not help wondering what it would be like to have a live, twitching organ in her mouth, pleasing its owner with her submission and acceptance; trading her obedience and humiliation for the perverse pleasure she was experiencing.
The commander instructed her on the next difficult task: massaging it with her throat. He urged her to attempt to swallow. When she did so, her throat closed around the phallus, and her eyes watered, but the sensation aroused her. He told her to lick the length of it and she obeyed, throwing herself into the task with genuine zeal.
She was so humiliated that her pussy was throbbing, that the idea of stimulating a real male this way—this submissive, whorish way—was exhilarating to her. She told herself it was all of the pent-up arousal that she had never been relieved from, but deep inside her mind somewhere she was curiously exploring the idea of a real male, a real male member, hot and thick inside her mouth, her eyes making contact with him in this, the most submissive of positions.
“I am pleased with your training,” the commander told her, waving away the training ‘materials’ and standing in front of her. “You understand, don’t you, Atrix 12, that my own career rests upon the quality of your training? So, it is very important to me that you are well-trained.”
I bet, Lana thought, and her desires to escape flared inside of her again.
“As I told you,” the commander explained, taking her arm and assisting her to her feet, “good behavior will be rewarded.”
The table was reappearing from a yawning of the ship’s strange material in the floor. Lana’s heart sank as the commander told her coolly, “Turn around again and spread your legs.”
You have no choice but to obey, she thought. Another spanking? Her bottom was still burning. She thought of resistance but decided against it as the sting of his discipline resurfaced on her skin with a sharp bite, as though he had actually spanked her again. She turned and placed her hands on the table, bending over for him.
Hating that an increasingly large part of her was enjoying this treatment. She was becoming a slave, enjoying her captivity, enjoying submitting to... the Realm.
