Her Alien Guardian (Galactic Discipline)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

T essara

“Female?” I asked, feeling my forehead knit in confusion.

Sala helped me. “Prosperian women have a different set of rights from Prosperian men,” she murmured.

I swallowed hard, trying to fit the idea into everything else I’d seen and heard of Prosperia. I nodded. “Yes, sir,” I answered.

A small smile played across the magistrate’s lips.

“She’s respectful, at least,” he said. “That’s always a good sign. Very well.”

Magistrate Thorne’s fingers flew over the interface.

“Before we can proceed further with your application, there is one crucial step we must complete.” He paused, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of compassion and clinical detachment. “You will need to undergo a thorough medical examination to assess your fitness for Prosperian female citizenship.”

The magistrate looked at Alpha and Gamma, clearly in accordance with his cultural understanding of them as my guardians. “In a spirit of full disclosure,” he continued, “the examination of a girl of Tessara’s age necessarily involves a rather… intimate protocol to ascertain her fitness for marital duties.”

I felt my cheeks flush hot at his words, a wave of embarrassment washing over me. The idea of an examination that concerned marital duties made my stomach clench with anxiety. Yet beneath that fear, I felt a flicker of something else—a shameful excitement that made me want to curl up and hide.

Captain Alpha answered the magistrate in a serious tone.

“As her guardian under Magisterian law, I leave it to Tessara to decide. Tessara, do you understand what’s being asked? Do you consent? I imagine the examination will involve some embarrassment for you.”

“I… I understand,” I managed to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. “I will submit to the examination.”

Gamma stepped forward then, his presence both reassuring and overwhelmingly masculine. “Magistrate,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine, “would it be possible for the medical exam to take place at the Magisterian Embassy? I believe Tessara would be more comfortable in that environment.”

Magistrate Thorne considered for a moment, his eyes darting between Gamma and myself. “That would be highly irregular,” he mused. “However, given the unique circumstances and the endorsement of both yourself and Captain Alpha, I believe we can make an exception.”

Relief flooded through me at his words, though it was quickly replaced by a new kind of nervousness. The thought of being examined at the embassy, with Gamma and Alpha nearby, brought a fresh wave of confusing emotions.

“Thank you, Magistrate,” Alpha said, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. The weight of it was comforting, grounding me in the moment. “We appreciate your flexibility in this matter.”

With a few more taps on the holographic keyboard, Magistrate Thorne seemed to finalize the arrangements. “Very well,” he said, “please take Tessara to the embassy and keep her there for the following two hours.”

I felt heat flood into my cheeks, though I felt as if I of all women should have become used to being spoken of as if I weren’t present—or, more accurately, as if my opinion on what happened to me had no importance. Something about my gown, or about Prosperia—or maybe, I thought with a new rush of blood in my face, about Gamma—seemed to have given me the impression that I might have found something worth desiring. The magistrate’s apparent lack of concern about my desires felt mortifying.

He turned to address me directly, then. “Tessara, a doctor will arrive within those two hours to conduct your examination. The results will be transmitted directly to our offices, and we will proceed from there.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice to remain steady. As we turned to leave, I caught sight of my reflection in a nearby screen. My cheeks were flushed pink, my eyes wide and bright with a mixture of fear and anticipation. I barely recognized myself in that moment—the elegant blue gown, the carefully styled hair, the unmistakable air of nervous excitement. What kind of woman gazed back at me? Not a naked Vionian concubine, certainly—but surely not a Magisterian consort or a Prosperian lady, either.

Our small group made its way out of the bustling refugee center and into the streets of Prosperia City. The transition from the chaotic energy of the center to the orderly beauty of the city felt jarring. We boarded a sleek hover-carriage, its interior ornate but comfortable.

As we glided through the streets in the direction I guessed must lead to the Magisterian Embassy, I found myself sandwiched between Sala and Gamma, acutely aware of their presence on either side of me. The velvet seat seemed to embrace my body, a luxury I was still unaccustomed to after my time as a naked Vionian sexual servant.

Gamma’s thigh pressed against mine, the heat of his body seeping through the layers of our clothing. Even that small point of contact sent tingles racing along my skin. I tried to focus on the view outside the window, on the gleaming spires and lush gardens we passed, but I found my attention drawn back over and over to the powerful blue form beside me.

Sala must have sensed my discomfort, for she reached over and took my hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Are you alright, Tessara?” she asked softly, her blue eyes full of concern.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Truthfully I didn’t know if I was alright. My emotions seemed a tangled mess, fear and excitement warring within me. The thought of the upcoming medical examination filled me with dread, yet there was an undeniable thrill of anticipation as well.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” Gamma’s deep voice rumbled from beside me. I turned to look at him, my breath catching as I met his intense gaze. “The examination is a standard procedure for all women seeking citizenship on Prosperia. It’s nothing to fear.”

He meant his words to comfort me, I felt sure, but they only served to heighten my awareness of what was to come. I couldn’t help wondering what exactly the examination would entail, especially the part about marital duties . Would it hurt? How embarrassing would it be? And why did the thought of it make my body react in such strange ways?

As if reading my thoughts, Sala leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper. “The doctor will be thorough, Tessara. They’ll need to assess your physical health, of course, but also your… responsiveness.”

I frowned, not quite understanding. “Responsiveness?”

Sala’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Your body’s reactions to certain stimuli. Like the magistrate said, it’s important for determining your suitability for marriage, because that’s such an important part of Prosperian society.”

My own face grew hot as I began to grasp her meaning. “Oh,” I breathed, my voice small and uncertain.

Gamma shifted beside me, and I was suddenly very aware of how close he sat to me. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Sexuality is an important part of life on Prosperia. The examination simply ensures that you’re physically and emotionally compatible with their way of life.”

I nodded, trying to process this information. My mind whirled with questions, but I couldn’t bring myself to voice them. Instead, I turned back to the window.

As our hover-carriage glided to a stop before the Magisterian Embassy, I felt my heart begin to race. The building itself made me blink in amazement, with towers that reached toward the sky like crystalline fingers. The facade bore intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change as we approached, creating the illusion of moving water or perhaps the ebb and flow of cosmic tides.

We ascended a grand staircase of what appeared to be polished marble shot through with veins of luminescent blue. Our footsteps echoed as we passed through grand doors into the cavernous space of the lobby beyond, the sound somehow both crisp and muffled at once. The air inside seemed cool and fragrant, carrying the scent of exotic flowers I couldn’t have named.

The lobby presented a breathtaking blend of elegant simplicity and mind-bending technology. Holographic displays flickered to life as we entered, showing scenes from distant worlds and star systems. The floor beneath our feet seemed to ripple and shift, giving the disconcerting impression that we were walking on the surface of a still pond.

I was so caught up in marveling at my surroundings that Sala’s words took a moment to register.

“Tessara,” she said gently, drawing my attention back to her. “Now that we’re inside the embassy, we need to follow Magisterian custom.”

I blinked at her, uncomprehending. “Custom?”

Sala nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Yes, sweet one. You and I will need to remove our gowns.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Here? But… but we’re in public!” Again I felt the very strange mixture of emotions that the lovely blue gown seemed to stimulate—I had become so used to my nakedness on the Conqueror , but here on Prosperia it seemed terribly embarrassing, as if having just gained the right to wear clothing I clung to it with special fierceness.

Alpha’s deep chuckle resonated through the space. “This is Magisterian territory, little one. Our customs apply here.”

I felt my cheeks flush hot, remembering how the women aboard the Prince Hend had almost all been nude. Somehow, the thought of stripping off my beautiful gown in this opulent setting seemed even more scandalous.

Sala turned to Alpha, her posture one of deference despite her nude state being a foregone conclusion. “My lord,” she said, her voice soft but clear, “may I have permission to undress myself and Tessara?”

Alpha nodded, reaching for the sleek handheld device at his belt. With a few taps of his large blue fingers, he seemed to make some adjustment. “There,” he said. “I’ve granted you control over both gowns.”

Sala took my hand, her touch gentle but insistent. “Come, Tessara. There’s a dressing room just off the lobby where we can disrobe.”

As she led me away, I cast a glance back over my shoulder. Gamma’s intense gaze followed us, a hint of something predatory in his eyes that made my stomach flip with a mixture of fear and excitement.

The dressing room was a marvel in itself. The walls seemed almost alive, sometimes appearing opaque and sometimes transparent.

My heart began to race at the thought that I would have to be naked in front of Gamma. The silvery walls of the dressing room reflected my flushed face back at me, multiplying my image in a dizzying array. I watched my cheeks grow redder and redder, the blush spreading down my neck to my chest.

Sala stood behind me, our eyes meeting in the shifting mirrors. With deliberate slowness, Sala reached for the neck of my gown. I held my breath, torn between the urge to stop Sala’s hand and the desire to let it continue. The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, until Sala’s fingers finally made contact with the fabric.

There was a soft whisper of sound, barely audible over the pounding of my heart, and suddenly the gown had begun falling away. It slipped down my body like water, pooling at my feet in a puddle of satiny blue. I gasped softly at the suddenness of it, the way the air of the dressing room wafted over my newly revealed skin.

I stood, trembling slightly, acutely aware of my nudity. The mirrored walls seemed to amplify my nakedness, showing me from every angle. I could see the goosebumps rising on my arms, the way my nipples had hardened in the cool air. My eyes met Sala’s in the mirror, a question forming on my lips.

But before I could speak, Sala turned me gently, drawing me into a warm embrace. I melted into the contact, grateful for the comfort of skin against skin. Then, to my surprise, Sala’s lips found mine in a deep, passionate kiss.

The kiss was nothing like the perfunctory, often cruel kisses I had endured as a Vionian concubine. Sala’s lips were soft, insistent but not demanding. Her tongue teased at the seam of my mouth, asking rather than taking. I found myself responding eagerly, my body pressing closer to Sala’s as the kiss deepened.

When we finally parted, both of us were breathless. Sala’s arms remained around me, holding me close. Her blue eyes searched my face, a small smile playing at the corners of her kiss-swollen lips.

“Tessara,” Sala murmured, her voice husky, “tell me truthfully. Do you like Gamma?”

I felt my cheeks flush even hotter at Sala’s question. My mind raced, filled with images of Gamma—his deep blue eyes, the way his tailored clothes hugged his powerful form, the low rumble of his voice that seemed to resonate through my very being.

“I… I think I do,” I whispered, my voice barely audible even in the quiet of the dressing room. “He’s so… different from anyone I’ve ever met. But I hardly know him, and yet…”

I trailed off, unable to put into words the tangle of feelings Gamma stirred within me. Sala’s knowing smile made me duck my head, embarrassed by my fumbling attempt to express myself.

Suddenly, I felt Sala’s hand on my thigh, her touch gentle but insistent. Before I could react, her fingers had slipped between my legs, probing delicately at the entrance to my cunny. I gasped, my body tensing at the unexpected contact.

“Oh, my,” Sala breathed, her eyes widening slightly. “You certainly do like him, don’t you?”

I wanted to sink into the floor as I realized what Sala had discovered. The wetness between my thighs betrayed my body’s reaction to thoughts of Gamma, a visceral response I couldn’t deny or hide. Shame and arousal warred within me, my face burning so hot I feared I might combust.

“I… I’m sorry,” I stammered, mortified beyond words. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t know why…”

Sala’s gentle laugh cut off my fumbling apology. “Don’t apologize, sweet one,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. “It’s perfectly natural. In fact…” Her smile widened, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’d say this bodes very well for your medical examination. I’m certain you’ll pass with flying colors.”