She watched the wealthy Draquun, Mozok Osolin, with interest as he signed the document. She had researched him as extensively as she could prior to her departure, because it never hurt to know your enemy. Despite his stratospheric wealth, he was not an especially salient figure in Draquun records or media. The most she had been able to gather about him was that he was reclusive, honorable, tenacious, and as ruthless as the Astrogodan culture’s system of honor would allow. She never did get to the bottom of his opposition to the project but had decided on her own that he likely just didn’t like Humans.
She could understand that, but she needed the money too much to take his side.
He showed no emotion as he signed the document, and numerous exchanges took place between the Draquun parliament and Mozok. Marmeth had explained that the ceremony must take place in silence, except for those who were required to speak, and so he would be unable to translate every single word.
When the Herstrakaa who had implemented her punishment stepped forward from behind Mozok to also sign the document, she wanted very much to ask why. Marmeth headed her off when she turned toward him, giving her a severe look.
She would ask later. It unsettled her, and it seemed off, but she told herself it was likely a witness signature. He looked at her after signing, and his expression was disquieting. His eyes were large and the pupils consumed the yellow-green of his irises. Beneath his heavy brow, framed by thick eyelashes, they seemed to drill through her, reading more than just visual information. The memory of his hand on her bottom made her skin flare hot again. She was forced to look away, a flutter of cool, unrecognized emotion trilling in her chest.
The verbal part of the ceremony seemed unnecessarily long, and it gave her plenty of time to become even more unsettled. Something about the transaction seemed off, though she couldn’t figure out what it was, exactly. Just as they concluded, she had a terrifying thought. Perhaps the Herstrakaa was signing as some kind of enforcer; that did seem to be his job. She might be spanked again.
The thought made her anxious, but she couldn’t figure out if she was afraid of it or secretly thrilled. The ache between her legs returned, and she felt her underwear growing damp again.
But no sooner had the ceremony concluded than things began to happen very fast, and her initial gut feeling turned out to be right—just vastly underestimated.
* * *
Mina’s face was red with anger, and so she was sure that the humiliation she was feeling would go unnoticed in the deep color that she could feel burning over her face and on the back of her neck. She was shaking with rage and tried hard to control it.
“The what?!” she hissed at Marmeth, for the second time.
“It is standard procedure,” he said calmly. “It is custom—”
“Something you completely, and totally, failed to mention!” Mina shrieked. What else had Marmeth failed to mention?
She felt like she was going to be sick or pass out.
“Miss Groza. My deepest apologies,” Marmeth said insincerely. “You conveyed to me that you were well-versed in Astrogodan custom, and so I assumed that the finer details of the Trothplight contract were… at least known to you. Or inferred, at the very least, from the nature of the contract.”
Rage boiled inside of Mina, and for a moment her vision became blurred. She had her mouth open to begin a takedown of Marmeth’s argument—his stupid, stupid argument—because she was certain she had told him that she had no knowledge whatsoever of Trothplight.
But the realization was charging into her mind: it didn’t matter what she said or whether or not Marmeth had tricked her or not. It was all irrelevant. The deal was signed in blood, and she was trapped by a storm, and the law was the law.
The parliament members had, to her surprise, returned to their seats at the end of the ceremony, and a pair of Herstrakaa had wheeled out an intricately carved table. It was really quite beautiful, made of wood—a rarity on Astrogoda—and blueish-green in color, with swirls of yellow that melted into the blue like spills of oil in water. However, the metal cuffs and chains attached to it implied a far darker purpose for the table, which was almost immediately revealed when a speaker announced something loudly.
“The examination will begin now,” Marmeth translated, his tone as neutral as if he were inviting her over for tea. He gestured at the table. “You will remove your clothing and assumed the position for examination.”
That had been several minutes ago, and her conversation with Marmeth was doing nothing to resolve the problem. The Draquun were getting agitated. Mina looked around again and despaired: she was trapped.
She narrowed her eyes when she spoke to Marmeth. She wouldn’t threaten him because her threats would be, at least for the moment, utterly empty.
But she would not forget this, and she wanted him to know it.
“You will be punished if you do not comply immediately,” Marmeth told her helpfully.
What a snake.
Mina wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. She tilted her chin up and turned toward the table.
Even though there were more than forty male Draquun, and numerous Herstrakaa present, all of them watching her, she would have to endure this examination if she wanted to get through this ordeal. And she did. She had no choice. Whatever it meant.
But she was not going to let them know that she had been tricked by Marmeth, and she was not going to give a single one of them the satisfaction of seeing her beat. Losing would be more humiliating—and problematic—than anything they could do to her.
She carried her head high as she removed her own clothing. She even took the time to fold it neatly on the floor, even though the stares of the aliens surrounding her—and the obvious signs of their interest, like widening eyes and a purring sound—burned through her, making a cold, odd feeling crawl around in her chest again.
She steeled herself inwardly and climbed onto the table. Two Herstrakaa, neither of them the very large male who had punished her, stepped forward and secured her wrists and ankles to the table in the metal restraints. They pulled them taut, forcing her legs apart slightly, and tugging her arms forward, which forced her into a partially bowed posture, like the prayer rituals of ancient Humans.
She was grateful when one of the Herstrakaa placed a structure under her hips, allowing her to rest some of her weight on it. Even though this forced her bottom up higher into the air and exaggerated the submissiveness of her position, it was much less physically uncomfortable with it there.
