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Taken and Mated by Samantha Madisen – Sample

Chapter One

Lana’s jaw was starting to ache, saliva gathering in her mouth and dripping around the sides of the ball gag strapped tightly across her cheeks. She was almost grateful for the itchy cloth thrown over her head, even though it was doing its job of making it impossible for her to see where they were going, and also set her skin on fire. Her hands were bound at the elbows and wrists with thick leather straps, and there was no way to scratch her itching neck or forehead. It was hard enough to lean forward just enough to balance between being jostled painfully against the back of the hard bench she was tied to, and falling too far forward, causing the leather straps to cut into her arms and legs.

She would not have been able to see much from the back of the transport van, anyway, but she had no way of knowing that. Her keen sense of sound and smell told her that they had crossed a body of water after several hours. The damp smell, like the inside of a full clay pot, triggered thirst in her, and fear. She had never been so far away from her home that she had seen a river. A river was a fairy tale told by travelers, and while she knew of one far to the south of their home, there was no guarantee that south was the direction they had gone.

Her heart was pounding. For many hours, she had been ready to pounce the moment she was released from her bonds. She would bite, claw, chew, and kick her way to freedom. She had been caught and exchanged several times now. Surely no one who now held her captive knew where she was from or where her family lived. Now she could escape, without bringing repercussions down on them.

But the journey grew longer and longer. The security grew tighter and tighter. The amounts of money being exchanged, which she could barely understand, became enormous. She assumed the exchanges were for large numbers of slaves; she had no idea that it was mostly for her.

The vehicle came to a halt, and her body collided with the metal cage that encircled her, though she had not known it was there. She could only feel that she was bound by the ankles, the wrists, and the elbows, and gagged.

She heard the sound of doors opening, and of an exchange in a language she did not understand. There were several human speakers, communicating with the aliens. The voices became louder and more fierce. After several minutes, the conversation was pure yelling, and then there were the sickening sounds of laser guns, and the dull thud of bodies.

Each thud sent a sickening knife of fear into Lana’s gut, and she twisted her hands furiously, trying, but knowing it was useless, to free herself. She breathed so heavily through her sackcloth that the material scratched her face with each inhalation. She could hear the others making noises of struggle; like her, they were bound and gagged.

The heavy clomp of boots and a shift of weight signaled the arrival of at least two heavy bodies in the back of the truck.

“Take the hoods off, confiscate the females. And find the Atrix.”

Lana’s heart fluttered in her chest. While she was relieved that the humans had prevailed in the skirmish outside the transport, she was also terrified by the words they were exchanging. They were almost certainly Slavers, and they seemed to be after females, which meant only one kind of sale.

To a very specific kind of slavery.

She strained against her ropes, though she knew it was futile, as the clomping boots came closer. The voices discussed which of the slaves to put in their transport, or another. At last they were near her. The hood was pulled from her head with a whoosh, and her mahogany-red hair clung to it for a moment before falling to her sweating face.

A bright light coming from something beyond the doors of the transport blinded her to all but the silhouette of the figure standing in front of her—it was unmistakably the form of an Imperial guard.

Lana’s stomach plunged to her feet. The war was real, the invasion true. And she was an illegal, as illegal as could be: an undocumented, unlicensed, untested female human of reproductive age. The reputation of the Imperial Guard was of ruthlessness, particularly for illegals.

Her knees shook as her mind raced; she would head-butt this soldier when he leaned forward to take off her restraints. It was her only chance. It might mean execution but doing nothing would mean the same thing. Might as well take the chance.

His voice was metallic, piped through a helmet, when he said, “That’s her, we have her, command, we have secured the Atrix.”

Lana didn’t know what an Atrix was, so she had no reason to start thinking they were talking about her. She figured the voice was coming through a radio, close enough to her head that it sounded like the man in front of her, and so she assumed it was in regard to something else. His laser gun was hot—she could feel the radiating heat on her cheek as he leaned forward to release her from her restraints.

She was ready, and she took a quick glance around, plotting her moves. There were only two guards, and once her wrists and elbows were free, she could head-butt this one, reach down to untie her ankle restraints, grab the laser gun, and go out shooting.

When she felt the restraints easing on her elbows, she acted. She knew enough about knots and the traders who tied them to know that the knot on her elbows was a reverse kiel, which could be loosened by pushing it together, and the one at her feet required a tug of the center bight in a coiled bundle facing the back.

But she underestimated the attention they were paying to her. She made her move and managed to crack her skull with skill against the head of the guard in front of her. His helmet stopped him from being too hurt, but he stumbled backwards, giving her time to wriggle free of the elbow restraints, reach down and loosen her foot knot. She started to stand up.

But that was as far as she got. The man she had assaulted was already speaking into his radio as he stumbled backward. “The Atrix is escaping! Maneuver 12.”

And the transport was filled very suddenly with more guards than she could count, a darkness engulfed her, and she felt her body paralyzed yet again by numerous restraints and hands. She was being lifted, and then she was on the dusty ground. They set her there fairly gently, and hands continued to hold her down as she was hog-tied with what felt like much heavier shackles. Her arms and ankles were bound together, pulled toward each other by a magnetic force: the unbreakable bonds of the Imperial Guard.

“Don’t damage her,” she heard someone say. “But get her in the back and keep two on her just in case.”

And then, she was being lifted and placed in another transport, struggling and screaming into her gag, but all to no avail.

The next trip was in a shuttle, and long. A tide of panic rose and fell inside of her as she felt the vehicle lift from the ground. In all her life, she had never been in one of the sky vehicles, and she had intended to keep it that way.

Despair overtook her several hours into the trip, as an undeniable reality she must face settled over her: she was not going back home, not any time soon. Probably never. She didn’t have any idea where she was being taken, but it was being done by space transport, and so it could be almost anywhere.

A guard crouched next to her midway through the journey. The onyx-colored scales of his outer ‘skin’—the high-tech, almost impenetrable armor of the unbeatable Imperial Guard—reflected the dull red lights of the room where she was being kept.

“I am going to loosen your gag,” he told her, close to her head. “And give you some water. Do not test me.”

Lana’s mouth was so dry by then that she had no choice but to cooperate. He removed the gag, and she gulped at the air, closing her aching jaw. And then, feeling utterly helpless and quite humiliated, she sucked on the metal straw he brought to her lips, unable to do anything but drink the water greedily with her aching arms and feet bound above her.

The remainder of the journey 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 being spanked.

“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.

She took a breath, resigned to do as requested, but before she could get the words out, her bottom was stinging again with another sharp smack.

“No! No! No! I will… yes, sir. Yes, sir! Please!”

Four more sharp slaps rained on her hot, stinging skin. She strained against the shackles that held her and then collapsed on the table, sobbing, until they stopped.

“Let’s try again,” the voice began.

“Yes, sir,” Lana replied quickly, because her bottom, while almost numb from the spanking she’d received, was growing hot and needled, and she could not imagine intensifying that pain any more. “Please,” she breathed. “Please, sir. Yes. I will be obedient. Sir. Please.”

The pain that was burning across her cheeks was nothing compared to the wave of humiliation that washed through her as she groveled with those submissive words.

She felt her pussy throb with a sensation unlike any other she had ever felt, and it only added to her supreme humiliation that she felt it grow wetter.

The voice was very close, and she felt the heat of a human hand caressing her bottom, adding to the warmth, stimulating the stinging pain and at the same time caressing it to a disturbing new and different heat. “Very good. This is how things work. Behave, and address your superiors properly. If you do not, you will be punished.”

There was a pause, as his hand caressed her bottom and brought her skin to a half-pleasurable boil. “Obedience, however, can be very rewarding.”

Shame swelled up inside of her as Lana mumbled, “Yes, sir.” Her nose was running and her lips were wet with saliva. Her bottom burned. Worst of all, though, her legs quivered as her insides throbbed with stimulation.

The shackles, utterly immovable until that moment, released suddenly, and her body collapsed on the table. She felt someone tug at her blindfold, and light peered around the corners of her eyes.

For a moment, she was too ashamed to move.

“Sit up,” the voice said sternly.

Lana’s cheeks were hot as she rose, awkwardly, to a sitting position. Her leggings and tunic were still flipped down and up, respectively. But when she reached for the material the voice cut in, “Leave them.”

She paused, considering her options to disobey, but with her bottom stinging so fiercely, she let her hands drop to her sides in resignation. She opened her eyes.

The bright light stung her for a few moments, and she wanted to rub her wet eyes, but did not dare move her hands. She sat, hunched, trying to make herself smaller, and looked around, keeping her head hanging low.

The room was all white, spotless—the kind of thing she had never seen in her life in the dust-coated Extremes, where illegals like herself lived. She sniffed.

To her left was the guard, looking exactly as she had imagined him: enormous, the curvature of his muscles straining against his scaly black armor. A smaller man, also black-clad, but without the armor or face mask of a guard, stood erect to her right.

For a moment there was silence. Finally, Lana lifted her hand to wipe her face.

The silence continued, and so she plunged forward, if only to break the humiliation. “Sir,” she began, “please. I think there’s been a—”

“There has been no mistake,” the man interrupted abruptly. “You have no documentation, no license, no proof of testing, and you are a human female living on Vipheon in the Extremes. You have been confiscated and are now the property of the Imperial Guard. You have been identified as an Atrix and will submit to examination and training, to be utilized in the breeding program of the Imperial Realm. Noncompliance will be punished severely.”

There was a brief pause, as Lana stared openly at the man, who appeared to be a high-ranking officer of some kind. He had pronounced one damning sentence after another, and she objected to every one of them, but did not know where to start.

Before she could articulate so much as a sound, however, he lifted his arm and looked at his wrist transponder. “The doctor is arriving.”

Chapter Two

His eyes snapped back to hers, and she could not miss that he took in her figure, drifting lazily over the bare skin exposed by her rumpled tunic and her half-removed leggings. “You will comply with the doctor’s requests, or you will be punished. Your training will begin shortly so you will come to know what that means.”

He looked at her archly, and just as her mouth began to open, he cut her off.

“I suggest you do not test my patience, until such time as you are aware of how you will be punished for doing so.”

Lana’s mouth hung open.

The man held up a finger and shook his head.

Her bottom throbbed again, reminding her of the harsh spanking she had received. She could not bear any more spanking, that was for sure. She snapped her mouth closed and looked at her knees, her face hot.

The man exited the room without so much as a goodbye.

The doors opened with a hiss after several terrifying, lonely moments with the guard breathing next to her.

A human man in a long white coat stood in the doorway. He was slipping his hands into a very tight-fitting white set of gloves as he walked into the room. Just behind him stood two very large, dull-witted Pratean guards. They were a race of brutish but easily controlled aliens, who the Imperial Realm contracted for their strength and the factor of intimidation they inspired.

Lana had never seen one so close. They were twice as large as humans, humanoid in their facial features, but their skin was dark and reptilian in appearance. Their yellow eyes made her tremble.

The threesome entered, and the doctor looked coolly at Lana.

Then he followed her gaze and looked briefly behind him. “Oh, them,” he said, in response to what Lana knew must be the terrified expression she was wearing. “Behave yourself and you need not be concerned with them. I am told you are quite the… resistant… young lady.”

Lana, in spite of her fear, felt her hackles getting up again.

Who the hell did this guy think he was?

She pressed her lips together and glowered at him. She would ‘behave,’ because her bottom was far too sore for her to imagine doing otherwise. But she would only behave as long as she needed to get herself out of this mess.

She certainly wasn’t going to be ‘property of the Imperial Realm,’ or trained, or bred, as that awful commander had suggested.

The doctor looked amused at her reaction and looked down at a computational tablet he suspended in his left hand. “I need to ask you some general questions before we begin the examination. You do speak Anglais, of the planet Earth, am I correct?”

She glared at him.

Perhaps she could pretend that she didn’t.

He folded his arms and cocked his head, speaking several languages from Vipheon that she did understand and a few she didn’t, asking her, in each language, if she understood what he was saying.

Then he returned to Anglais, and said indifferently. “I suppose I will just have to proceed with the examination, then.”

Her heart raced as he approached her, and she strained against the restraints. The Prateans’ eyes shifted to her and gleamed with menace, as the hair on their scruffy backs stood on end. They clutched their weapons tighter. Lana recognized them as stunners, not lethal or even causing permanent damage, but designed to mimic electrical stimulation. She had it on good authority that the long sticks could cause extreme pain, and she had heard the stories of their use in interrogations… there was a reason for the size and shape they were.

The doctor approached her and put his hand under her chin. It was the gesture of a fatherly figure, a little demeaning, a little familiar. He tilted her chin up and looked down at her. “Now, Katalana, you can either cooperate with me or feel the Pratean Stun Stick for yourself.”

Lana could not stop herself; she twisted her head defiantly and out of the man’s grip, and struggled against her restraints.

The doctor, still looking amused, stepped back and motioned for one of the Prateans to move close to her. She closed her eyes tightly and her muscles tensed, waiting for the sting of the stunner.

Instead of the electric jolt of the stunner on her back, where she expected it, she felt the stick against her inner thigh, and her eyes flew open to see that the guard had the stick right against her inner leg, very close to her most intimate parts. She started to make a noise, when a small, only somewhat painful jolt of electricity seized her inner thigh and cut her breath short.

The doctor extended his hand to cut off the stun.

He put his hand out again, taking her by the chin.

“Now,” he told her. “That was a warning, a very light touch. Do you want to feel it for real?”

Lana forgot her desire to hide her ability to speak, because the sensation traveling around her thigh had rendered her speechless. She stared at the thick, big stick between her legs, and then looked up pleadingly at the doctor.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, no.”

The doctor tilted her chin even more. “That’s very good. That’s progress. Now what do we say when we get something we want?”

Lana was drawing a blank, still shocked by the sensation between her legs, which had hurt, hadn’t it? And yet she found herself tingling with the same longing she had felt while being spanked.

She furrowed her brow as the doctor continued to look at her, and she realized she could not remember what he had asked her.

The doctor’s eyes darkened and Lana sensed she had better come up with something quickly.

“I don’t,” she breathed. “I just don’t know…”

He appeared even darker, and so she grasped at straws. “Yes, sir?”

The doctor’s face quickly turned to amused again. He cocked his head slightly, and then seemed to take her word for it. “We say ‘thank you,’ Katalana. Say that now.”

Lana felt a wave of humiliation, but the sting of the stunner was still fresh in her mind, so she swallowed her pride. “Thank you,” she croaked.

“Thank you, sir,” the doctor told her, his finger still under her chin.

Lana dropped her eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

There was a silence, and she sensed his displeasure, so she looked up at him.

“That will do for now,” he said, swiping his finger out from under her chin. “But as time goes on you will need to improve your obedience. When you thank your superiors, and later your mate, eye contact is critical, because it shows your complete submission.”

He looked at her for a moment. “You will have a very long and painful stay here at the Training Center if you do not heed my advice. Now,” he continued, before Lana could object or ask what he meant by that, “you will show me your obedience by getting on this examination table on your hands and knees.”

Lana’s eyes narrowed, but the ghosts of the spanking and the electric jolt on her inner thigh reminded her to control her temper.

“Now,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “You will stand. Remove your clothes. And get on the table.”

Lana’s heart felt as though someone were stepping on it, and her stomach lurched uncontrollably between nerves and vaguely aroused flutters.

She felt the tight pull of the magnetic restraint on her arms click suddenly to neutral. She had not even realized, with all that she was processing, that her hands had been reconnected to the table when she had sat up.

Her legs were also freed. The heavy weight of the bands was still there, threatening at any moment to become the forceful magnetic pull that bound her earlier, but for a moment she was released from their bond.

“Stand,” the doctor repeated.

Shakily, Lana rose to her feet. She had the briefest flash of escape, but when she looked at the Pratean guards, she dismissed it. The magnetic bonds would have to be removed anyway. She didn’t know how they worked, but they were impossible to fight against.

“Disrobe,” the doctor said.

Lana instinctively pulled her arms close to her body and started to shake her head. “Not while… not while… not while they’re here,” she insisted nervously.

“I will not repeat myself,” the doctor said, his impatience mounting in his voice. “Disrobe.”

Lana could see by his steely glare that he meant business. She relented, shakily pulling at the laces of her tunic, then her leggings, all while the stares of the guards and the doctor penetrated her mind and made her want to cry with further humiliation.

She stood, shivering slightly, while the guards and the doctor appraised her again.

“On the table,” the doctor ordered. “We will begin the examination.”

Lana looked uncertainly at the table, but the huff of one of the Pratean guards motivated her to climb onto it, trying to hide as much of herself as possible.

But she was no sooner on the table when the magnetic cuffs were activated again. Her wrists shot forward to slam into two steel rods that were rising slowly from the front of table next to her arms. Her legs shot apart, spreading open at the ankles.

The Imperial Guard, who she had all but forgotten about, moved close to her. She nearly winced, expecting his heavy-handed spanking again. Instead, he slipped a cool piece of metal under her throat, and it snapped into place, snug but not tight, around her neck.

The collar clicked, then her neck was pulled gently upward by a gentle magnetic tug, and she sensed it as the collar clicked against something that hovered above her.

Instinctively, feeling helpless, she started to struggle again. Only her elbows and knees were free, and with them she could only move a few inches out or in. Her struggling was to no avail; she was immobilized with her legs spread slightly apart, her arms against two cool metal rods running vertically from the surface of the table to just below her shoulder, and her neck was pulled up like the collar of a dog. She was forced to arch her back and thrust her ass upward in order to ease the pressure against the back of her neck. The position was submissive and feral, and she burned with shame imagining how it must look to the Pratean guards.

But worse than that, when she scanned the room with her wildly searching eyes, she could see the walls slowly changing color, dissolving from opaque white to clear glass.

And behind the glass, most interested indeed, were dozens of males, seated in rows as though it were a theater. They were all large and imposing, dressed in a variety of Imperial uniforms. Some were aliens, some were human.

All were looking at her, spread-eagle and naked, on the doctor’s table.

As she fought against the restraints and realized that she was utterly incapacitated, tears began to well up in her eyes. She had missed her chance! And what on Vipheon was going on here? She was not going have these men watching while this doctor did… whatever he was about to do to her.

“Bring me my instruments,” the doctor ordered the Imperial Guard. The Prateans seemed to take this for a cue to return to standing by the door.

“The human is a very recent acquisition, a surprise finding,” the doctor announced loudly, and it took Lana a moment to realize that he was speaking to the viewers on the other side of the glass. “She has not been groomed yet, but we will proceed with the examination so that she can be incorporated into the current training cycle.”

He moved around her, squeezing her arms, then tracing his fingers down her spine. The Imperial Guard brought a tray to the head of the table. By straining her eyes, Lana could make out a variety of metallic instruments, like none she had ever seen before. One looked like a male phallus but made of interlocking plates. She realized that the plates could spread open, like a speculum.

Another phallic instrument was more shallow, but of similar design. There were also spindly, straw-like metallic tubes, a very large rubbery item, a long hose, and vessels of various shapes and sizes. Some of the instruments were so convoluted in shape and size that she could not imagine their use, though in the back of her mind she had begun to suspect that all of them would be very humiliating.

The doctor’s hands snapped her out of her reverie about the instruments, as he moved them over the stinging skin of her bare bottom. “As you can see by her coloring, the girl is almost certainly an Atrix, though tests will confirm this shortly.”

Lana wanted desperately to scream, “What the hell are you talking about?”, but the doctor’s hands pulled on her buttocks at that exact moment and she felt his finger on her most private hole. She felt herself instantly pucker, but the contraction of her hole was the only reaction she could have, and it did not get her very far away from his probing fingers.

He massaged her hole for a moment as she gasped and then stared vacantly ahead, her vision blurring with tears of humiliation.

“There is no evidence of penetration of the anus,” the doctor said loudly, and Lana’s face grew hot with fresh humiliation.

The doctor’s fingers moved downward to her pussy, where they stopped. He paused to hold his hand up and rub his fingers together. “Most interesting,” he stated. “The female responds with arousal to punishment.”

Lana’s face stung with so much heat that she thought she must be beet red, which only humiliated her further.

The doctor continued touching her, pulling her apart, and her treacherous body responded against the grain of her fury and humiliation by throbbing with the same ache that had curiously occurred during her spanking.

“Very positively,” the doctor murmured. “She is a promising specimen.”

He probed her some more, spreading her lips open, swabbing a finger over her clitoris and making her shudder with reprehensible delight.

“She responds properly to sexual stimulation as well, and appears to be intact,” the doctor noted. He pulled the table toward himself, out of Lana’s view. “I will begin the measurements now.”

Lana strained her eyes so much that they hurt trying to see what the doctor was doing but could only hear the squirt of a bottle of some kind. The next sensation was of very cold, wet metal against her bottom.

She pushed her hips forward and away from the metal, but as before, there was not much room to maneuver in her restraints. She heard herself speaking. “Wait, no, what are you—”

The doctor placed a hand on her rear and pulled her back into place. “Hold still, or I will have you punished again.”

The eyes of the Pratean who had stunned her already gleamed with anticipation.

“She is in need of discipline and training,” the doctor informed the audience, as the metal pressed against her anus again and she fought her instinct to buck him. “But these are not insurmountable defects…” His voice trailed off as the cool metal pushed sharply against her anus, spread it open with a stinging bite, and then began to slide inside of her.

Lana’s eyes went wide, and her breath caught in her throat. As much as she might have been inclined to protest what was happening to her, even with the threat of punishment, the treatment was so foreign, she was stunned into utter silence.

Inside of her, the cool finger of the long metal object slid and slid, icy against parts of her body she had never felt before. Her pussy throbbed, and she tensed as her insides were awakened inch by inch, aching suddenly, though not necessarily with pain.

The doctor continued to fill her bottom, until she started to feel her insides cramp slightly. She made a noise, and the doctor stopped inserting the object but did not remove it.

Lana faced the table and burned on her cheeks as there was a long, uncomfortable pause and a murmur from the crowd. The doctor pressed on the cold object and it moved up and down inside of her; merely inches, but enough to send waves of sensation through her.

“She accommodates all lengths of phallus,” the doctor stated loudly. “I will test for width in the interior only. Her final abilities will depend upon her training, of course, but the interior accommodation is always a promising estimate.”

He lowered his voice to speak to Lana. “You will begin to feel an expansion inside of you. You must relax. You will feel some discomfort as we reach your limits but I promise you will not be hurt.”

Inside her anus, Lana began to feel that the object that had been inserted was indeed expanding. Pressure began to build slowly as it swelled, filling her, stretching her. “Ooooh!” she mewled, not knowing what else to say. She was a little afraid, but more than that, humiliated, because she was also incredibly… aroused. She felt her pussy getting wet again, a drop of her excitement threatening to drip onto her thigh and be seen by the doctor and his witnesses.

The object continued to expand, until Lana was sure it must be dangerous. “It’s too big!” she cried in a panicked voice.

“It is not,” the doctor assured her, and her insides stretched slowly on.

“Very, very promising,” the doctor said loudly for the audience.

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