The Palace Ch. 02

"Three more nights," I requested, handing over my purse.

I had nowhere in particular to be, and the Palace offered accommodations more comfortable and interesting than even my own manor. It was two weeks yet until I had to be back home to oversee the census, and even for that, my presence was mostly symbolic, as my clerks would do most of the work. One by one, the men, women, and children of my District would be counted. Then the youngest would be returned to their mothers, the adolescents to their dormitories or camps, the adults to the work they had trained for since adolescence. And the very few young women who had reached the age of eighteen without being defiled by an eager young man, those who wished to avoid the more traditional role of laborer or mother, would be brought to be evaluated for a position at the Palace, after which I might finally sample their charms.

It was frowned upon to take the innocence of a girl from one's own district, but it wasn't as if the young woman herself knew whose hand caressed her, whose cock opened her.

The girl last night, though, from one of the more remote districts, had been my crowning achievement. The most willing, the most receptive, the most responsive young thing I had ever had the honor of touching, I could not get her out of my mind. Typically, once I'd had my fun, I put the girl out of my thoughts and began dreaming of the next.

But not this time. I wanted her again this evening. I wanted to feel that curious tongue as it explored my cock, to suckle those rosy nipples as they hardened between my lips, to taste the sweet juices of her arousal. How had she captivated me so?

Was it the smile? No maiden had ever smiled under my ministrations. And how I had wished to tear away the blindfold, to see the submission in her eyes, her lovely face unobstructed. That was, of course, impossible. But I wondered, could I make her smile again?

I could make her climax again. Of that I was certain. More than once, even, to watch the bliss overtake her, the explosion of pleasure, her moans and cries as she forgot the fear, and the pain, and the confusion, and simply allowed herself to linger in that perfect moment.

My cock stirred, remembering the tightness of her untried passages. I had been disappointed to learn that her handler had ordered her anus be filled while she slept. I had hoped she would be almost like new again, but so many hours with a plug would stretch her. Better for her, perhaps, but less exciting for me.

The clerk at the reservation desk returned my purse, considerably lighter. "Governor, would you like to review the selection? I regret to inform you that we have no new arrivals this evening. However, perhaps another will be to your liking, one more experienced, perhaps?"

"No. I wish to use the same young woman I had the honor of opening last night, if you will."

The clerk was startled, examined some paperwork in front of him nervously. "Governor, that is impossible. You must be aware that a newly opened girl is granted an evening of reprieve to heal after her sterilization procedure, which she is currently undergoing."

I grunted in displeasure. I had not known that, as I had never before had any interest in using a girl more than once. "I will have her again tonight," I announced, mustering all of the authority being the governor of the largest district on the continent should grant me. "I will pay any amount required." I should not be so eager to part with my coin, but she had my heart in her clutches, and she did not even know it.

The clerk fidgeted with his pen. "Let me speak with my superiors," he said, and left me alone with my thoughts.

I counted the money remaining in my purse, considered drawing more from my local accounts and discarded the absurd notion. There was a reason I brought a limited amount with me to the Palace. Some men wasted their money gambling or drinking. Most of mine went to supporting my own particular addiction, the fear and scent of a virgin at the Palace.

Perhaps it was fortunate they had no one new tonight, for the sake of my cash flow. I had seen the two other newcomers last night before making my selection. It seemed they, too, had been used after all. Virgins brought a high price. I wondered who besides myself was here with enough money to waste on such a pastime. It could only be two of a very few others.

I had considered purchasing an out-goer for my own personal use at the manor. A well-trained, though also well-used, woman could take the edge off between visits, perhaps save me money in the long run. But after three years in this place, most became jaded, stretched, and uninteresting. I'd taken my pleasure with a more experienced girl on occasion, and while their oral skills were unmatched, their obedience perfect, and their pain tolerance high, they lacked the spark I so craved, the terror, confusion, curiosity. They obeyed because they had to, because they had served harsher masters than I, and not because they regarded me with any particular awe.

The clerk returned, flustered. "Governor, the girl you requested had not yet been sent for her procedure and has been reserved for you. We must insist on an additional fee, however, for the disruption to her schedule."

I had to hide the rush of excitement his words had elicited within me. "Excellent. I will reserve her for all three nights, in that case. Surely the procedure can wait that long."

He hesitated. He would not want to refuse me outright, but perhaps I was wrong about the urgency of this mysterious medical procedure. I had no knowledge of such matters. I cared only that neither she nor I would risk conceiving a bastard child, which made spending time at the Palace much safer than dallying with a maid at the manor, though I may have done that more than once in my day as well. Fortunately, I usually managed to convince them to take my seed in their mouths or their behinds, so as to avoid such an eventuality.

"Yes, Governor. We will ensure she remains available to you for the duration of your stay." The clerk licked his lips and held out his hand for my purse again. Perhaps I would need to pay a visit to the bank after all.

The clerk extracted the fee and returned my purse once again, empty. I frowned, but the thought of a further three evenings with this girl was enough to make the expenditure worthwhile. I thanked the man and returned to my room to freshen up.

* * * *

Would she recognize my voice, remember my touch? Was the second time more frightening than the first, because she now had some idea of what to expect? Perhaps I'd been depriving myself of excitement, avoiding these recent arrivals. Her handler arrived at my room to escort me to the chamber, and it was all I could do not to race ahead of him. I knew the way.

I dismissed him just outside the closed door. I needed no introductions, no instructions. I entered, allowed my slippers to make the faintest of whispers against the rugs. Her head turned in my direction. As lovely as last night, and still so full of innocence. She had known a man, but she still had so much to learn. If her handler had not yet used her himself, which I suspected he had not, then my second experience with her should be almost as fulfilling as the first.

She had been trussed as before, naked on her back on the table, blindfolded, wrists cuffed above her head, knees bent and thighs parted. A faint sheen of perspiration twinkled against her pale skin, betraying her fear, and my cock twitched. What color were her eyes? Her dark hair suggested dark eyes, but I had met girls from her district in the past, and some had deep blue or green eyes that contrasted beautifully with their black or dark brown hair. Perhaps she was one like that. I could imagine so, though I would never see for myself, just as she would never know my face.

I had never wondered about the color of a girl's eyes before.

She licked her lips, wiggled her toes, curled her fingers into tight fists, waiting for me to say or do something. I walked a full circle around the table, noting that her pubic hair had been trimmed, her other body hair removed, probably for the first time in her life. Makeup had been applied as well, a blush to her cheeks, a tinge of red to her lips and her nipples. Her hair had been braided into a neat plait once again. A braid was most useful, and not just for keeping her hair out of her face.

"Hello, sweet girl," I murmured finally, and she stiffened, recognizing my voice. "I am pleased to see you again." I pressed my palm to her cheek, resisted the urge to remove the blindfold. The girls were never to see the faces of their masters, for our own protection. "What color are your eyes, sweet girl?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.

She seemed confused by the question, and it took her a moment to make sense of it. "Blue, Master," she rasped.

"Lovely. Tell me, are you surprised by my presence tonight?"

She hesitated. "Yes, Master. I was told I would not have to serve tonight."

"Are you pleased to be with me again?" An unfair question, but every time I spoke, her arms flexed, causing her firm breasts to jiggle just slightly.

"Yes, Master," she whispered after too long a delay. That was the only safe response, but I thought it might actually be true.

Bruising remained on her thighs from the cane last night, but she was not in any obvious pain at the moment. I traced one of the lines with the tip of my index finger, along the inside of her right thigh. She shivered. I watched her face as she remembered cruelty and kindness, pleasure and pain, sometimes in perplexing and frightening combinations.

Newer girls were always laid out this way, until their cooperation and obedience could be guaranteed. The wooden table was long enough for even a tall girl to stretch out upon, wide enough to be restrained spread-eagle, low enough that a man could use any of her three holes comfortably while she lay upon it. Rings were set at strategic points along all four sides of the table, and chains of various lengths were provided so that she could be bound in any position her master desired.

Aside from the table, the room itself could be a bedchamber in any manor or mansion. A large and comfortable bed was enhanced with a restraint system, soft linens, and quality pillows. The rugs underfoot were pleasant against bare skin. A wardrobe against the wall held all manner of implements and other necessities. Water and wine were provided as well, should the master have need of either.

This girl was in many ways still a new arrival, almost virginal, almost pure. She had not yet been exposed to all of the various depravities and proclivities of her wealthy and anonymous clientele. But she knew the feel of a cock inside her, the excitement of climax, the pain of the paddle and the cane. Where to begin?

"Tonight I will expect you to take a more active role in pleasuring me," I said. "I will release you from your bonds. As long as you are cooperative, you will retain freedom of movement. If you are disobedient, you will be punished and restrained, possibly in a far less comfortable position than this one. Do you understand, sweet girl?"

The prospect of being freed was enticing, I could see. Perhaps I could elicit another smile.

"Yes, Master," she said, striving for confidence but falling short. She was terrified of what I might ask of her.

"Good. That's very good." I kissed her forehead, placed my palm on her sternum, felt her heart fluttering. "Tonight we will spend several hours together. I expect to use all three of your holes again, this time more thoroughly." I could be much freer with her this time than I could last night, I realized. I really had been depriving myself by using only virgins! With a virgin, I held back and allowed myself to orgasm only once, at the very end. But now that she'd been opened, I could test her in other ways, require more of her.

I suspected other men might use virgins more harshly, but it was my firm belief that a girl should be introduced as gently as possible and should be permitted to know pleasure. Indeed, this girl had been the fourteenth I had opened, and I understood from the handlers that the newcomers I had worked with fared much better in the early days than did those hired by others.

Her breath caught at my words, and her heart beat faster. She remembered the pain, but I hoped she also remembered the climax I'd granted her. "Perhaps, sweet girl, you might earn your pleasure again tonight. Would you like that?"

Her lips parted, and her hips moved ever so slightly. "Yes, Master," she admitted.

I would proceed in a similar manner, I decided, but if I could manage it—and with the pills I'd taken with dinner, I should have little difficulty—I intended to have several orgasms myself. Yes, this was shaping up to be a delightful evening, worth every penny.

"I'm going to release you from the table now. You will not move until I tell you to, and then you will do exactly what I say. Do you understand?" I moved my hand to her breast, kneaded it, reminding her of how I could make her feel, if I so desired. Her nipple hardened against my palm.

"Yes, Master," she breathed.

I removed the straps around her thighs that forced her legs to remain open. She did not give in to the temptation to allow her knees to close. I unchained her ankles next, and she remained in position. Finally, her wrists. She quivered, clenched her fists, but remained still. "Very good! Straighten your legs but keep them spread wide."

She followed my order perfectly. Some girls were so frightened they didn't understand the instructions I gave. Others were too stupid to comprehend simple directions. But this one... Oh, this girl! The fear was there, but it did not rule her.

"Lower your arms to your sides," I ordered next, and she did so with no small amount of relief. The way her arms had been stretched up behind her head must have been uncomfortable. "Now roll to your stomach and resume this position."

She hesitated just a moment, then flipped herself over somewhat inelegantly, feeling for the edges of the table as she did so. She spread her legs again and let her arms settle at her sides.

Now a decision. Should I punish for the minor delay? Yes. "Girl, you must obey immediately." My use of "girl" or "sweet girl" was quite deliberate, denoting whether I was pleased with her or not. She flinched at the change in my tone.

I waited, giving her a chance to voice a protest or plea, but she remained silent. I smiled. "The offense was small, so a small punishment," I assured her. "I will offer you a choice. I can leave you as you are, unrestrained, and deliver only ten with the paddle to your buttocks, but you must keep still throughout. If you move or attempt to evade a strike, I will add another, continuing until you reach the end without additional movement or when the total reaches thirty, whichever comes first. Or, you may instead request to be restrained, in which case I will administer exactly twenty."

She whimpered. Neither option was pleasant, of course, but requiring such a decision brought the terror I sought. My cock twitched, swelled. "If you do not choose," I continued, "I will do both." The incentive. I started a slow countdown from ten.

When I reached three, she blurted, "I wish to be restrained, Master!"

"A wise choice." First, I drew a discipline mark on the back of her neck. Then, I attached her ankles at once to the rings in the table and guided her arms up and out and connected her wrist cuffs as well so that she was spread-eagle. She would be feeling quite helpless. She whimpered again, tested her bonds. I then selected a wooden paddle, longer and wider than my hand and polished to a shiny finish, with a comfortable, leather-wrapped grip. I tapped her buttocks lightly, drew my arm back, and struck fairly hard on her right buttock. She wailed, and a lovely red splotch appeared. A second strike, this time to the left buttock, with similar results. I continued at a steady pace, alternating buttocks, keeping a silent count. Her cries melded together into one long scream of pain, and her hips rose up as she fought her bonds. She would not have been able to keep still, and by the time I reached the final strike, she must have known she'd made the right choice.

Not once did she plead for mercy or beg me to stop.

"All done, sweet girl," I murmured, rubbing her hot flesh with the palm of my hand. She shuddered, sweating, trying in vain to calm her sobs. Perhaps I had been too harsh. "Now I shall release you, and when you are free, you will move backward until your feet touch the floor, then stand up." I gave her another minute to collect herself. I started with her right wrist and made my way around the table, unhooking her cuffs. When her final limb was freed, she began to slide backward, rather tentatively. Her feet reached the end and she grew more confident, though she had no idea how high the table was. I had carried her from it last night.

Her feet reached the floor sooner than she expected, and she pushed herself to standing, legs trembling, holding the table for support.

"As before, we'll begin with the mouth," I said. "Kneel up."

She wrinkled her brow. Perhaps she did not understand the term? She lowered herself to her knees, feeling for the rugs with her hands, waiting for further instructions.

I took pity on her. "Kneel up. Up. Do not sit on your heels."

Finally, understanding dawned, and she straightened her body and let her arms hang at her sides.

"Good." I stepped close enough that her nose nearly brushed my belt buckle. "I am wearing a belt with a simple buckle. Open it."

Confusion again. Her responsibilities last night had been largely passive, and she had spent a great deal of time restrained. Now, though, she had to be an active participant in her own torment. But, she should be aware that she was also to be an active participant in her own pleasure, if she was cooperative. She felt for me, and her touch was like a bolt of energy, stiffening my cock further as her fingers skimmed over the growing bulge. She found the buckle and opened it with a deft hand. I began unbuttoning my own shirt and let it fall from my arms while she awaited my next command.

"Now my trousers. Find the buttons."

Delicate fingers teased my cock again as she searched for the buttons of my trousers. Oh, but this was such exquisite torture, her accidental contact, the innocent caress. I caught her hand and placed it directly over the evidence of my arousal, reveling in the sensation through the fabric of my trousers and undershorts.

I let go. "Continue," I said.

She found the first button and opened it, then, without prompting, continued to unbutton the next three. She turned her face up to me, anxious, concerned that she had been presumptuous. She wasn't supposed to do anything until I ordered it.

"I appreciate your taking some initiative," I began, "but you were instructed to do exactly as I said." She bit her lower lip. "I'll let it pass this once." But only this once, and only because it showed enthusiasm on her part. I removed my own slippers. "Now lower my trousers to the floor."

She hooked her fingers over the waistband and gave a weak tug. Had she never removed someone's trousers before? She pulled harder, and they slipped over my buttocks and peeled away down my legs. I stepped out of them and kicked them aside. "And now do the same with my undershorts," I ordered.

She found the drawstring and loosened it, and I helped her maneuver the waistband around my full erection.

"Good, sweet girl. You're doing very well." I guided her hand to my cock and wrapped her fingers around it. "Feel my cock. Rub it with your hand." She moved her hand uncertainly, bringing it toward her just a finger's breadth. The featherlight touch brought a gasp to my lips, quickly suppressed. The sight of my rather large member in her pale, dainty hand was far more erotic than I had expected. "Rub!" I commanded. She licked her lips and moved her hand more deliberately. "Yes, good," I groaned. The pills had clearly taken effect. My cock responded eagerly to her timid motion. "And now your mouth."