Her Alien Guardian (Galactic Discipline)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

T essara

A chime sounded, from the direction of the door to the hallway. Gamma looked down at his handheld.

“There’s the doctor,” he said, looking back up at me. “Why don’t you have a seat on the bed, and I’ll bring him in here.”

My heart raced as I perched on the edge of the bed, the sheets soft against my bare skin. I tried to steady my breathing, but anticipation and nerves had my pulse fluttering like a caged bird. The door slid open with a soft hiss, and Gamma entered, followed by an older man in a crisp white coat.

The doctor was tall and slender, with neatly styled silver hair and sharp gray eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles. He carried a black leather bag that looked so old that I wondered if it had come from old Earth. His gaze swept over me clinically, assessing rather than leering, but I still felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Hmm,” the doctor tutted, glancing around the room with a slight frown. “This won’t do at all. No proper exam table, no stirrups. How am I expected to conduct a thorough examination under these conditions?”

Gamma’s deep voice rumbled through the room. “My apologies, Doctor Ashcroft. We’ll have to make do with what we have. Perhaps I can assist?”

Dr. Ashcroft nodded curtly. “Yes, that will have to suffice. Please hold the patient’s knees open and back. I need full access.”

My cheeks burned as Gamma approached, his massive blue hands gentle but firm as he grasped my legs. With careful strength, he pushed my knees apart and back toward my chest, exposing my most intimate areas to the doctor’s clinical gaze. I squeezed my eyes shut, overwhelmed by the vulnerability of my position.

“Eyes open, please,” Dr. Ashcroft instructed, his tone leaving no room for disagreement. “I need to assess your reactions.”

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, fixing my gaze on the slightly glowing ceiling above. The doctor’s fingertips probed at my breasts, circling my nipples with practiced precision. Despite my embarrassment, I felt them harden under his touch, a familiar warmth beginning to pool low in my belly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. Ashcroft glance at a sleek handheld device. Its holographic display flickered with streams of data, including a pulsing graph that seemed to spike with each touch. With a start, I realized it was measuring my arousal, quantifying my body’s shameful response to this clinical examination.

“Responsive,” the doctor murmured, making a note on his device. “Very good. Now, let’s proceed with the internal examination.”

Dr. Ashcroft reached into his leather bag, extracting a gleaming metal instrument that made my breath catch in my throat. The speculum’s polished surface reflected the soft ambient light of the room, its curved shape both elegant and intimidating.

“Now, Tessara,” the doctor said, his tone clinical yet not unkind, “this next part of the examination may be somewhat uncomfortable. Try to relax as much as you can.”

I nodded mutely, my eyes fixed on the ceiling as I felt the chilly metal of the speculum press against my entrance. Despite the doctor’s warning, I was unprepared for the sensation of the instrument sliding inside me. I gasped softly, my body tensing involuntarily at the intrusion.

“Deep breaths,” Gamma murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on my inner thighs where he held my legs open. The gentle touch, combined with his reassuring voice, helped me relax slightly.

I heard a soft click, and then felt an intense pressure as the speculum’s beak opened within me. The stretch was uncomfortable, bordering on painful, and I couldn’t suppress a whimper.

“Interesting,” Dr. Ashcroft commented, his eyes focused intently on his examination. “The patient shows signs of extensive sexual activity. The vaginal walls are well stretched and there’s noticeable elasticity.”

My face burned with shame at his words, the clinical description of my body making me want to sink into the bed and disappear. I squeezed my eyes shut again, unable to bear the thought of meeting Gamma’s gaze.

“Yes,” Gamma’s deep voice rumbled above me. “Tessara served as a concubine aboard a Vionian warship before her rescue.”

I felt fresh heat flood my cheeks at Gamma’s explanation, mortified that he was discussing my past so openly. The shame of my time on the Conqueror of Bresla washed over me anew, memories of countless degradations at the hands of the Vionian crew flashing through my mind.

“Ah, I see,” the doctor replied, his tone neutral. “That explains the physical signs. Well, at least we know she’s capable of accommodating significant girth. That should serve her well in her new role as your concubine.”

His matter-of-fact assessment of my sexual capabilities sent a fresh wave of embarrassment through me. Yet beneath the shame, I felt a flicker of something else—a perverse pride at the thought that my body might please Gamma, that I might be able to take all of him despite his imposing size.

As the examination continued, I found myself torn between mortification at my exposure and a growing, shameful arousal. Each touch, each probing finger or instrument, seemed to awaken nerve endings I didn’t know I possessed. My breath came in short, shallow gasps, and I could feel a telltale wetness gathering between my thighs that had nothing to do with the examination itself.

I felt the cold metal of the speculum shift. My eyes flew open in shock as I realized he was now positioning it at the entrance to my bottom. I squirmed uncomfortably, but Gamma’s firm grip on my thighs held me open and available for the doctor’s humiliating ministrations.

“Now then,” Dr. Ashcroft said, his clinical tone unchanged despite the intimate nature of his actions, “I need to assess the condition of your anal cavity. This information is crucial for determining your suitability as a Prosperian concubine—or, I suppose, even as a Prosperian wife.”

I felt the pressure of the speculum against my most private opening, and then a stretching sensation as it slowly entered me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle a whimper at the strange, invasive feeling.

“Hmm,” the doctor murmured, peering intently at whatever the speculum revealed. “There’s evidence of regular penetration here as well. Tell me, Tessara, how frequently did your Vionian masters use your anus?”

The bluntness of his question, combined with the clinical probing of such an intimate area, sparked something rebellious within me. A surge of defiance rose up, pushing past my shame and embarrassment.

“What’s it to you?” I snapped, my voice harsh with an anger I hadn’t realized I was harboring. “You want all the sordid details? Fine. They used my ass whenever they felt like it. Sometimes multiple times a day. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

I saw Gamma’s eyes widen in surprise at my outburst. Dr. Ashcroft, however, remained unperturbed, simply making a note on his device.

“And did you derive any pleasure from these encounters?” he pressed, adjusting the speculum slightly and sending a jolt of sensation through me.

“Pleasure?” I practically spat the word. “Is that what you think it was like? Being bent over and fucked raw by men who saw me as nothing more than a hole to stick their cocks in?”

My words hung in the air, sharp and bitter. I could feel Gamma’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes. Instead, I glared defiantly at the doctor, daring him to ask another question.

Dr. Ashcroft’s expression remained impassive as he made another note. “I see,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm. “Though I suppose I should tell you that Prosperian young women are severely punished for employing that sort of language. And what about oral services? How often were you required to perform fellatio?”

The clinical term only fueled my anger. “You mean how often was I forced to choke on cock?” I snarled. “Every fucking day. Sometimes for hours. Is that detailed enough for your records?”

Gamma’s deep voice cut through my angry tirade, his tone firm but gentle. “Tessara,” he said, the sound of my name on his lips sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “I understand you’ve been through terrible ordeals, but this behavior is unacceptable. You must show respect to the doctor and to me.”

His words, spoken with such calm authority, seemed to deflate my anger like a punctured balloon. Shame washed over me anew, not just for my past but for my current outburst. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over.

Dr. Ashcroft cleared his throat, his clinical demeanor unruffled by my outburst. “Given the patient’s… emotional volatility,” he said, carefully selecting his words, “I would strongly recommend the installation of a governor. It would help regulate her moods and ensure proper behavior.”

My breath caught in my throat at his words. I remembered Sala mentioning the role of the governor in Prosperian society. The thought of having such a device implanted in me, controlling my very emotions and sensations, sent a chill of terror through me.

Gamma was quiet for a moment, his thumb absently tracing circles on my inner thigh as he considered. The gentle touch, so at odds with the clinical nature of the examination and the weight of the decision being made, sent confused signals through my body. Finally, he nodded. “Yes,” he said, his deep voice resonating through me. “I believe that would be for the best.”

At his words, something snapped within me. The fear and anger that had been simmering beneath the surface exploded into full-blown panic. I thrashed wildly, trying to free myself from Gamma’s grip and the doctor’s probing instruments.

“No!” I screamed, my voice raw with desperation. “I won’t let you! You can’t do this to me!”

I kicked out, narrowly missing Dr. Ashcroft’s head as he hastily withdrew the speculum. My hands clawed at the sheets, trying to find purchase to pull myself away from Gamma’s firm hold.

“I refuse!” I yelled, tears now streaming freely down my face. “I’d rather die than have that thing inside me!”

Dr. Ashcroft stepped back, his eyes wide with alarm at my violent reaction. He turned to Gamma, his voice steady despite the chaos. “Sir, you need to get her under control. This level of defiance is unacceptable for a Prosperian woman, whether a concubine or a wife.”

Gamma nodded grimly. In one fluid motion, he released my legs and picked me up, then somehow flipped me over onto my stomach, at the same time sitting down on the bed so I landed across his lap. Before I could react, I felt his large hand come down hard on my bottom.

The sharp crack of his palm against my flesh echoed through the room, followed immediately by a stinging pain that radiated across my skin. Gamma’s enormous hand, crashing against my bare rear cheeks, sent shockwaves through my body. I gasped, more from surprise than pain, as the initial shock gave way to a spreading warmth.

Smack! Another blow landed, the sound crisp and clear in the otherwise silent room. I felt my flesh jiggle slightly with the impact, and a tingling sensation began to build where Gamma’s hand had connected.

Smack! Smack! Two more in quick succession, alternating cheeks. The sting intensified, transforming into a deep, throbbing heat that seemed to radiate outward. I squirmed, trying to process the conflicting sensations coursing through me.

It felt nothing like the brutal beatings I had endured on the Conqueror of Bresla . There, punishment had been cold, impersonal, designed to break my spirit and remind me of my place as a mere object for their use. But this… this felt different in ways I struggled to name.

Smack! Gamma’s hand came down again, the impact sending ripples across my sensitized skin. I could feel the strength behind each blow, the raw power in his massive blue hand. Yet there was a precision to his movements, a careful control that spoke of concern rather than cruelty.

As the spanking continued, I became acutely aware of every point of contact between us. The firm pressure of Gamma’s thigh beneath my stomach, anchoring me in place. The warmth of his free hand on the small of my back, steadying me between blows.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

A rapid series of blows rained down, and I cried out, my voice a mixture of pain and something else… something I was afraid to think about. Because with each stinging slap, with each burst of heat across my reddening flesh, I felt a corresponding pulse of arousal deep within my core.

My body betrayed me, responding to Gamma’s discipline in ways I had never experienced before despite all I had endured at the hands and cocks of my Vionian masters. I felt my nipples tighten into hard peaks, scraping against the soft sheets with each impact. Between my thighs, an insistent ache began to build, accompanied by even more of the telltale slickness that had nothing to do with the medical examination.

I buried my face in the bedding, mortified by my response yet unable to stop the soft moans that escaped my lips. Each blow seemed to send shockwaves of sensation straight to my most intimate places, stoking a fire that threatened to consume me.

Through it all, I was struck by the care evident in Gamma’s actions. Though the spanking was undoubtedly a punishment, there was no malice behind it. His hand never strayed from the fleshy part of my bottom, avoiding areas that could cause real harm. The rhythm he set was steady and controlled, allowing me time to process each sensation before the next blow fell.

“Mr. Gamma,” said Dr. Ashcroft when Gamma had paused the rain of swats and taken my whole rear end into his hand so that I whimpered desperately with a need I tried to push away, “might I prevail upon you to have intercourse with Miss Tessara while I observe?”