Though she is the owner of a popular tavern in the capital city, when the planet of Hippolyta is defeated by a more powerful world Kara Hannafin is chosen for a deeply shameful role. She will be a war bride, a plaything to be punished, claimed, and very publicly used and shared by the man to whom the invaders have given her, all with a live audience from two worlds watching.
As she is stripped, spanked, and brought to one quivering orgasm after another in front of a crowd of onlookers, Kara cannot hide her body’s response to the humiliating ordeal. But when the cameras which have recorded every blush for the entertainment of millions are finally turned off, will she admit the truth to herself or keep pretending she hasn’t enjoyed every moment of it?
Author: Emily Tilton
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$3.95
Length: 40,400 words
The colonel spoke, in his degrading tone. “Come look at this anus, Gregor. She definitely hasn’t had a man here yet. What about Gregor’s Kara over there? It felt to me like she would need a good deal of training, but I only felt her up for a moment.”
Gregor’s fingers had spread the silky arousal forward, onto her clit.
Oh, powers, Kara thought, he knows what he’s doing. Then, It’s the wand.
Because it was the wand—a ‘fact’ that another part of her knew just wasn’t the case—Kara came, and now she couldn’t keep her silence, because she screamed with the sudden pleasure of it. She bucked over the table, and it rattled against the wall, and the pleasure seemed somehow magnified by the continuous struggle her muscles seemed engaged in, after the touch from the horrid wand.
As the aftershocks began to leave her body, she heard the colonel tsking. “Naughty Gregor,” the officer said. “Giving pleasure to the girl you like best. I think you’ll have to whip her harder now.”
Kara whimpered, though she tried to push it back. Even that bit of resistance seemed denied to her, now.
“Come over and get a look at what Gregor’s Unna’s got between her legs and her arse-cheeks. Then we can finish this segment with the whipping.”
Kara’s consciousness had floated away, as she listened to the Magisterian. She felt Gregor’s hands leave her, dimly, and she heard herself make a little pleading sound, but of course to no avail: his comforting presence departed, because he had no more choice than Kara did.
It’s the wand. She tried, as a little experiment, to push herself up from the table, so that she could perhaps run away from her punishment. The impulse, to her horror, only produced another aftershock of pleasure—one almost as big as the climax itself. Kara moaned into the table.
She heard an answering moan from Unna, then. What had they done to the sweet brown-haired lawyer who wore polka-dot little-girl panties under her fashionable dress?
“That’s it,” Gregor said. “This is very tight, Gregor’s Unna. I’m going to have fun in here.”
“Are you going to shave them all?” the colonel asked casually.
“I think I’ll let Gregor’s Frela keep that cute little tuft,” Gregor answered. “The others I’ll want nice and smooth.”
Kara felt a tiny cry rise and heard it die away, muffled by the table.
“We’ve got production staff to help with that,” said the officer. “We can get it done this evening.”
Did more of that happen? More degrading words? More sobs from Unna? More shameful touches, fingers inside her? Kara couldn’t even tell whether time passed quickly or slowly, or at all, but then she felt something new and awful, and she heard Gregor’s voice over her again.
“You first, Gregor’s Kara,” he said, and he laid the face of the leather strap across her bottom-cheeks. It felt so stiff and heavy that it made her cry out just at the sensation against her soft skin. “Reach out and take hold of the table edge.”