She was satisfied by the expression on Mozok’s face, a mixture of surprise, and, curiously, he also seemed impressed. He stepped to the side and opened his arm toward the wall of tools. “But of course. I am looking forward to your choices. And your gratitude.”
Mina didn’t know why his words affected her as they did. Her anger, sure. That made sense. But as she strode toward the wall of punishment tools, she felt something else. A flutter of arousal, a twisting, pleasant snake of a feeling that coiled and uncoiled deep in her abdomen and between her legs.
She surveyed the tools and selected from them three whose purpose she could guess at. Her first choice was a paddle, which she imagined would be much like being spanked. The crops and straps were thick, and though she felt a flutter inside when she looked at them and imagined their sound, she was not sure she could handle such a tool just yet. The slender objects that looked like short cables also made her uneasy, though provided an odd temptation: the objects they had used during her examination that had been the most bizarre had been shaped like that, delivering heat and cold and electrical stimulation. Strangely, the memory of those devices was not entirely unpleasant.
She wanted to ask about them but stopped herself before she made the error of speaking without permission. Flummoxed, she supposed it barely mattered; she could tell that Mozok was intent upon getting around to every one of these tools, and there was no way of knowing how long she would be here—days or weeks, or even, terrifyingly, months—so there was little point trying to avoid anything in particular.
What a crazy tradition, she thought, and, closing her eyes, she reached indiscriminately for two more objects. She turned, and held them out in her hands to Mozok, who indicated that she should set them on a table next to the large, shackle-encrusted device.
“You shall mount the punishment table,” Mozok said. “Place your knees on the bench. Voso will bind you. Remove your robe first.”
Meeting his eyes, Mina untied the robe and let it slip from her shoulders. The air was cold, and a shiver traveled all over her skin, making goosebumps rise. She started to bend, thinking of removing her ridiculous shoes, if only to get out of them, but Mozok held a hand up. “The footwear is not to be removed,” he said. “It is a device for restraining you. But also, it pleases me.”
Mina gave him a haughty look and climbed onto the punishment table. The cold touch of the materials on her skin reminded her that she was utterly vulnerable. When Voso approached her from behind, and began to fasten the shackles around her legs, he pulled them apart, spreading her open to Mozok’s whims. Voso went around the table, saying something to Mozok in Herstrakaa. When Mozok replied, Voso pulled first her left hand, then her right, toward the far end of the table, stretching her torso out flat on the surface of the machine. When the shackles closed around her wrists, she was stretched out maximally, almost to the point of discomfort. But because of the tension, also to the point that she was completely and totally at their mercy. Or lack of it.
She pulled her legs and arms against the restraints, just to verify how secure she was. There was no getting out of this contraption, no moving or jiggling to salvage some degree of comfort. There was no way to even budge.
Voso returned to where Mozok was, standing behind her, viewing her naked haplessness form behind. Her skin was already sore and the slightest touch or thought brought the heat flaring to life across her backside, in the shape of Voso’s large hands.
She steeled herself, and cursed silently to herself, because yet again, her pussy was getting wet, and the ache that she could not explain had begun pulsing deep in her core.
She heard the two aliens speaking in low tones. She could not understand the Herstrakaa, and Mozok’s voice was so low she couldn’t tell if he was speaking Draquun or not. She didn’t have any idea what they were saying, but she feared that they were discussing her arousal.
But, she thought quickly… it was humiliating, but at the same time, it was probably frustrating Mozok. His tactic was to get her to want him to stop, but if she was aroused, the task might seem impossible to him.
It was just… so strange. What was wrong with her? Strapped to a “punishment table” and getting wet just thinking about what was going to happen next.
You have no choice, she reassured herself.
So who cared if she made the best of it?
* * *
Mozok chose the paddle first. She felt a swish of air, the beginnings of an itch on her sore skin, and then a flat, evenly distributed smack that covered both of her buttocks and made the noise of a fleshy thunderclap echo in the small chamber. Mina gritted her teeth and tears stung at her eyes. She was determined not to scream. Heat was rolling through her flesh, unbearably hot, when a second slap cracked against her skin.
A muffled sob left her throat. She wasn’t able to stop it. Her eyes watered intensely. She was grateful to herself for not having selected purely spanking tools. It was too much.
“In Trothplight,” Mozok said, after delivering another smack, “the female must learn to submit fully to her male masters, in all ways. It is only through submission that a female can come to understand the needs of her male protectors…”
Smack.
“…and her own.”
Smack, smack, smack!
“Oh!” Mina cried out, as the next four smacks landed on her burning bottom in rapid succession. She could not contain her cry.
“Do you wish for me to stop?” Mozok said, almost playfully. “You may, at any time, say the words.”
Mina opened her mouth but closed it in time to stop herself from earning another punishment. She shook her head.
“Very well,” he said, placing a hand on her throbbing skin. His hand was warm, and it ignited the heat of her punishment, sending another series of hot waves cascading from the center of her ass, radiating outward, almost pouring over the outside of her thighs.
He rubbed the burn, making it hotter. His touch was tender, and Mina wished it was not causing her pussy to well up with excitement. But it was.
Mozok dragged a finger from her moist folds up toward her anus, where he drew the moisture around her tight bud, making Mina’s body react to his touch despite her efforts not to enjoy what he was doing.
Mozok made no comment about her arousal. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, he did not know what it meant.
