Based on the testing required of all girls her age, eighteen-year-old Beatrice has been deemed by her planet’s government to be highly suitable as a bride. But before she is stripped bare and publicly presented to a set of up-and-coming men, she must be trained. That task falls to Colonel John Quinst, who will serve as her guardian until she is ready to be given to one of her suitors.
As John sets about teaching Beatrice what is expected of a wife, he does not hesitate to make shameful use of her virgin body, and she quickly discovers that any disobedience will result in a humiliating spanking. But despite her blushing cheeks and frequently sore bottom, she cannot help wondering what it will be like when her future husband claims her even more thoroughly.
Author: Emily Tilton
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 61,900 words
“You must bend over, now, dear,” her mistress said. “I know it’s hard. Just bend over and reach back and show your guardian you’re learning to follow the Good Way.”
The nasty one—Beatrice could recognize his voice, now—said, “Get ready to spread those cheeks, bed girl.”
Another of her suitors, who seemed a year or two older than the one in the red work shirt, said from her other side, “Go ahead, Beatrice. It’s time. You’ve got a bottom-fucking coming.”
A sob broke from her chest, and she looked up—that strange new bond with the dark-haired man seeming to take over again—and she saw that he too had a furrow in his brow. He gave her another of his little nods, the same kind as when she had walked to the chair where her guardian had spanked her bare backside in front of a whole assembly hall of young, lusty men.
Beatrice let Mrs. Quinst urge her downward, still looking into the brown eyes of the man in the red work shirt.
“That’s it,” he said. “Good girl.”
Another man, one of the older ones, clapped, along with much of the audience behind Beatrice. The nasty one clapped, too. “Nice,” he said. “Put those hands back, now. Show the colonel what a guardian gets.”
She couldn’t help it: she looked at him, trying to shoot him a reproachful look. The blond man had a scornful look in his eyes, but she could also see desire in his face, and she felt certain that he had gotten hard between his legs. That made her look down again, because she wanted to look at the dark-haired man—because she wanted to look at his lap, to see if she could see the outline of his penis, rigid and long, Beatrice found herself shamelessly hoping, for her.
Mrs. Quinst, stooping down a little now, stroked Beatrice’s shoulders.
“Reach back, Beatrice,” she said. “Offer the colonel your bottom.”
Beatrice heard a low whining, whimpering sound come from her nose with each breath. Somehow her hands started to move from the front corners of the bench, backward, around. She gave a little cry when her fingers touched her burning, punished bottom.
“Nice and wide, now,” Colonel Quinst said behind her. “Betty, go ahead and lube her for me, please. No, Beatrice, wider than that. That’s better. Good girl.”
She hadn’t even realized she had started to spread her spanked bottom-cheeks, but with a frightened cry at the feeling of her mistress’ fingers coated in something cool and slippery, she clutched at them now. Her head reared back with the sudden discomfort in the place where her guardian had punished her. Though she kept her eyes tightly shut she felt she could feel her suitors’ eyes on her burning face as they watched her having her anus prepared for her final, most shameful defloration.