Chapter 17
Beta
I watched Jendra kneel, her naked body trembling, her green eyes wide with evident fear.
Of course she was afraid; I could tell that Sala had just explained the use of the cunt paddle to the poor wayward girl.
Alongside her obvious terror of the stern discipline I knew I had to impose, though, I could see more in the lovely eyes, though: an irrepressible curiosity, and even more affectingly a basic trust that made my heart clench in my chest. I had never expected to feel this way again, I suddenly realized. Not after losing my wife.
But there it was, undeniable and growing stronger with each moment I spent in Jendra’s presence: I was falling in love with this strong-minded but fundamentally submissive young woman.
The realization should perhaps have troubled me.
Jendra was young, confused, and still entangled with a malevolent entity of her own creation.
The wisdom of an existence so ancient I knew Jendra’s human mind couldn’t even grasp my true age should have made me maintain a distance.
I should treat her simply as a problem to solve.
Instead, I found that I wanted desperately to protect her. To guide her. To claim her as mine in ways that went far beyond the basic therapeutic intervention Alpha and Dr. Nagalan and I had discussed as the framework for training her to my cock.
I took a step forward, until only half a meter separated her face from the front of my tunic. I could see the tear tracks on her cheeks, the way her small breasts rose and fell with rapid breaths.
Jendra kept her eyes downcast, her dark hair falling forward to partially obscure her face. Her hands rested on her thighs, palms up in a gesture of surrender that she couldn’t have learned from anyone. It came from within her, from that place she’d tried so hard to deny.
I moved a little closer, studying her. Even kneeling in submission, even after everything she’d endured, something truly magnificent remained fully present in her face.
An intelligence that couldn’t be dimmed, a spirit that refused to break completely.
She wasn’t like my late wife, who had been gentle and yielding from the start.
Jendra would require careful handling, a firm but patient approach.
Severity to begin with, certainly—but then steady, consistent training in pleasing her master’s hard penis.
“Look at me,” I said quietly.
Her green eyes lifted slowly, filled with tears and fear and something else—something that made my cock harden despite my determination to remain in control. Need. Raw, desperate need for exactly what I was about to give her.
“Do you understand why you’re here?” I asked.
“Yes…”
I watched her search for the next word, her face reflecting a struggle with the memory of Omega’s cruelty.
“You will call me Master, just as you called Omega by that title. I am your master now, Jendra.” I spoke slowly, holding her gaze with mine so that I could make certain the words had the proper effect.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, and I heard how the title caught in her throat. She wasn’t used to it yet, applied to a man who would request it as much as I would compel it. This was different from Omega’s terrifying brutality. This was a choice, even if she didn’t fully realize it yet.
“Tell me why you’re here, given to me for discipline and training as a sexual servant.”
Her breath hitched. “Because I summoned Omega. Because I created a threat to the galaxy. Because I… because I submitted to him in the most degrading ways, and part of me loved it.”
“And?” I prompted.
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “Because I need to be punished. Because I need someone to show me the difference between cruelty and discipline. Because my cunt belongs to you now, and you need to teach me what that means.”
The words clearly cost her everything to speak. I felt my resolve strengthen even as my arousal intensified. This girl—this brilliant, conflicted, fascinating girl—was about to become mine in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend.
“Alpha, Dr. Nagalan, and I have conferred,” I told her, watching her face carefully. “We’ve concluded that the best chance of disengaging you from Omega and sending him back into the void is to create a formal bond that supersedes the one you share with him.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I said slowly, “that I’m going to make you my concubine formally. A true concubinage, with vows and ceremony, so that your lovely body belongs to me according to Federation law. That will send your psyche a decisive message that an informal training arrangement couldn’t accomplish.”
Jendra
My heart felt ready to pound its way out of my chest.
“Your concubine?” I whispered, the word barely audible. “But I… I thought this was just training…”
“It is training,” Beta said, his voice gentle but firm. “But the bond needs to be formalized. The ceremony will help anchor you to me instead of to Omega.”
Sala moved to my side, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “The concubinage ceremony is very similar to the marriage ceremony,” she explained softly. “Only the vows are different. A wife pledges partnership and equality within submission. A concubine pledges service and obedience.”
I felt dizzy. This was happening so fast. Just days ago I’d been a Hippolytan student, proud of my independence. Now I was kneeling naked before a man who planned to make me his formal sexual property.
“Put your hands in front of you,” Beta commanded. “Palms together.”
My arms shook as I obeyed, assuming a posture I knew had represented prayer and humility for millennia. Beta took my hands between his, and the warmth of his blue skin sent tingles up my arms.
His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Jendra, I pledge to protect you from harm. I pledge to care for your wellbeing, both physical and emotional. I pledge to teach you the ways of submissive womanhood in subservience to your master’s pleasure, with patience and firmness in equal measure. ”
The words should have horrified me. Instead, I felt something warm unfurl in my chest. He was promising to protect me. To care for me. Not just to use me like Omega had intended to do.
Sala squeezed my shoulder. “Now you, Jendra. Repeat after me: I vow to learn faithfully…”
“I vow to learn faithfully,” I echoed, my voice trembling.
“To serve pleasurably…”
“To serve pleasurably…” Heat flooded my face as I spoke the words.
“And to obey completely.”
I hesitated, the weight of what I was saying pressing down on me. This was it. The moment I formally surrendered myself.
“And to obey completely,” I finished in barely more than a whisper.
Beta released one of my hands and reached down to unfasten his tunic. My eyes widened as he freed his cock—that enormous blue shaft that I’d been trying not to think about since I’d first seen him.
“Kiss it,” he commanded.
The order was simple, direct, obscene. But something about the moment—the ceremony, the vows we’d just exchanged, the way he looked at me—made it feel sacred somehow. Not degrading like when Omega had forced himself into my mouth, but significant.
I leaned forward. My lips pressed against the head of his cock in a gentle kiss. To my surprise, I felt tears prick my eyes. Not from shame or fear, but from something else. Something that felt almost like… gratitude?
“Open your mouth,” Beta said. “Put out your tongue.”
When Omega had given similar commands, they’d felt like violations. But this… this felt different. Beta’s voice carried authority, yes, but also something warmer. As if he genuinely wanted me to want this.
I parted my lips and extended my tongue. Beta lowered his massive cock onto it, the weight substantial and warm. He looked down into my eyes, and I saw something in his gaze that made my heart skip—not just desire, but tenderness.
“By the authority vested in me by the laws of the Magisterian Federation,” he said formally, “I pronounce you my bonded concubine. Your body belongs to me. Your pleasure belongs to me. Your obedience belongs to me.”
A shiver ran through my entire body. It was done. I was his.
Sala’s voice came from beside us. “The next part of the ceremony demonstrates the concubine’s acceptance of correction.”
Beta withdrew his cock from my tongue and helped me to my feet. He took my right hand in his left and led me slowly to a sturdy chair in the corner of the discipline room.
“Oh, no…” I whispered. “Please… Master?”
I felt the absurdity of the rush of heat that had flooded into me at the sight of the chair.
I knew I was going to be whipped, very soon.
Whatever this little ceremony represented wouldn’t hold a candle to what Beta had planned.
But the weight of the symbolism, as I remembered the painting in the museum, of the king punishing his wife precisely this way, seemed to make the moment too intimate and too significant.
But Beta drew me toward him, then guided me between his knees. With easy strength despite the resistance I couldn’t help putting up, my new master upended me over his left knee.
The vulnerability of the position made me whimper. My bare bottom was raised high, my legs dangling, completely at his mercy.
His hand came down on my right cheek with a sharp crack that made me gasp. Then the left. The pain was real but measured—firm enough to sting, not cruel enough to truly hurt.
Then his hand moved between my thighs, and I felt his palm cup my pussy completely. His thumb pressed against my anus, and I moaned at the intimate contact.
“This part of your body,” Beta said, his voice resonant with authority, “is my property. Your sweet cunt, your rosy bottom hole—they belong to me. And this is the place most appropriate for disciplining you when you misbehave.”
My face burned with mortification, but my pussy clenched against his palm in shameful arousal.
Sala helped me up from Beta’s lap, and I stood on trembling legs. “Ordinarily,” she said gently, “it would be time for you to receive your master’s penis in your cunt, and then in your anus, to begin your training as his bed girl. But as you know, Jendra, you have a real punishment coming first.”
My stomach dropped.
Sala took my hand and led me across the room to another piece of furniture I’d noticed earlier—a strange, apparently very old-fashioned sort of bench.
A whipping bench, my mind whispered as if I had discovered the knowledge in an ancient book.
Wooden, with leather restraints and a curved surface designed to present the subject’s bottom and intimate areas completely.
“Lie down,” Beta instructed.
I climbed onto the bench with shaking limbs. The wood was cool against my stomach and breasts. Beta moved efficiently, securing my wrists to the front restraints, then my knees to supports that spread my legs wide. A strap went around my waist, holding me firmly in place.
Tears were already streaming down my face before he’d even picked up an implement.
But this felt completely different from obeying Omega.
Then, I’d had no choice—he’d controlled my body through our bond.
Now, I was choosing this. Somehow, from somewhere I didn’t understand, I was finding the courage to submit to this punishment because I knew I needed it.
Because I knew Beta wouldn’t destroy me. He would hurt me, yes—but only as much as I needed to be hurt.
I heard his footsteps as he moved to the rack of implements.
My whole body tensed, waiting to discover which one he would choose.
I heard his tread again, approaching from behind, and then he moved around to stand in front of me.
My eyes went to his hands immediately, and my breath caught when I saw what he held.
The cane.
That long, thin implement I’d seen on the rack. Up close, it looked even more terrifying—flexible but rigid, polished to a shine that caught the light as Beta turned it slowly in his hands. He held it up so I could see it clearly, displaying it with an almost reverent care.
“Do you know what this is, Jendra?” he asked, his voice taking on an instructional tone that somehow made the moment even more real.
“A… a cane, Master,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with fear.
“Yes. But it’s more than that.” Beta ran one finger along its length, and I trembled at the gesture.
“This particular implement has a special place in the history to which we Magisterians look for inspiration. Victorian England—a time when discipline was understood as an essential component of proper education, especially for young women who struggled with their natural submissive needs.”