by Ava Sinclair
We’ll learn other things, too, things Kit would keep hidden if she could.
I know something is wrong the moment she walks into my study. The glimmer of self-assuredness I’d detected the night before is gone. Kit is more subdued. Her hands are crossed in front of her, one loosely clenched. Matron Lang enters behind her. She seems troubled.
“Senator—” The matron is about to explain, but I cut her off.
“That will be all, Matron Lang.” I shoot her a small, knowing smile. “I’ll call upon you to fetch Kit back later.”
“Very good, sir.” Matron Lang turns her attention to Kit, who is staring straight ahead now. She stares at my ward for a moment before leaving the room. She knows whatever has transpired, I’ll find out about it soon enough.
“What happened, Kit?” I nod at her hand.
“Matron Lang.” She doesn’t object when I reach for her fingers. Her palm is welted. “I pissed her off.”
“Don’t use that word, Kit. Does it hurt?”
“Not as bad as it did. Not as bad as…” Her words trail off. I know she’s thinking about the spanking.
“How did it make you feel, when she corrected you.”
She pulls her hand away. “Beyond my palm, I felt nothing.”
She glances over her shoulder, allowing me to glimpse her in profile. She has delicate features and a sharp nose. I catch myself staring at her freckles.
“What is this place?” she asks, but I think she already knows.
The door opens. Dr. Armand has arrived. He was one of the leading women’s physicians in New Bethel before I lured him away to work here. Tall and blonde, he has an authoritative manner and a ready smile that has put more than one ward at ease. He flashes that smile at Kit now, but her reaction is wariness as she backs away.
“So, you’re Roman’s ward.” He approaches her slowly. “Kit. Is that right?”
She doesn’t reply. Dr. Armand quirks a brow as we exchange knowing looks. Before Kit arrived, I’d filled him in on our first meeting. He’d also read the intelligence file we’d compiled months before her capture. He knows what to expect and is nonplussed by her silence.
“I’m Dr. Armand. I’m going to assess your health today with a complete physical exam.”
“I don’t need one.” Her eyes register fear and defiance. “I don’t need one,” she says again, emphasizing the assertion with a shake of her head.
“Kit. I know it’s scary—” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“I’m not afraid,” she lies. “I just don’t need two men poking at my naked body to tell me what I already know. There’s nothing wrong with me.” She backs away. “That’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it?”
“I won’t lie to you.” Dr. Armand and I walk towards Kit, flanking her so that she has nowhere to go put the corner of the room. “But I think you would have learned last night that fighting only brings a negative reaction.”
“So what? You’re going to spank me again?”
Dr. Armand stops and puts up his hand. “I think I can make this easier.” He walks to the medical cabinet, leaving me and Kit a yard’s length apart. She’s staring at me. I want to ask her how she liked the room she awakened in, which I designed myself. I want to tell her how beautiful she looks in the simple dress that comes to mid-thigh, but it would be pointless to try and make conversation. She doesn’t want to be here.
“Take these. It’ll calm you down and make all this easier.” Dr. Armand is back with a small pill cup and a plastic glass of water. He holds them out to Kit, who slaps the pill cup away with an angry cry and makes to rush past me. I try to restrain my frustration and disappointment. I’d really hoped she’d learned from last night. I’d really hoped she was smarter than this.
“Very well.” Dr. Armand is now the calmest person in the room. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hypodermic needle. “We’ll have to go with backup. Roman, if you would restrain your ward across the table so I can give her this shot in her bottom.”
“No! Don’t!”
I lift Kit, feeling her struggle. When I reach the table, I lay her face down. Dr. Armand lifts her dress. Tight white panties hug the bottom I spanked the night before. I watch as the physician tugs them down to her upper thighs. He pinches the skin of her lower bottom and she screams into the mattress as the needle sinks into her skin.
As I continue to hold her, the doctor removes her slippers and pulls her panties the rest of the way down, then the dress which fastens up the back. I lift her back up. She’s naked now and breathing hard just as she did the night before. She’s trembling slightly as I lay her on the exam table.
Her reaction is to try and rise, but Dr. Armand is ready. He’s already pushed the button that seals the mattress to her body, holding her arms and legs fast. Kit is completely immobile and when her eyes meet mine, for the first time, I see desperation. She looks as if she’s about to plead with me, but instead just closes her eyes.
“Kit. Listen to me.” Dr. Armand leans down, gently pushing her hair away from her face. “I know this isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. The only way I can ascertain your health is through an exam. Roman is going to put his hands on you now.” He points at me and I hold up my arm to show her the band fixed around my wrist. “That device will relay all the information through my touch to that screen. The data I collect will be examined and you won’t have to worry about coming in here for another year.”
“NO!” She strains against the suction hold of the mattress.
“Breathe,” he orders. “The shot I gave you is already taking affect. Can you feel it, Kit? Can you feel it making you surrender just a little? There’s no fighting it. The medication coursing through your body is already lowering your inhibitions.” Dr. Armand nods at me. I put my hands to her head, cupping her face.
“Relax, little one. I won’t hurt you.” I stare down into eyes she’s finally opened. Her lips are parted, her breath coming in rapid little gasps. How I long to taste those lips, to plunder that panting mouth with my tongue.
I move my hand down to her neck, down to her shoulders, down her smooth, toned arms and back up again. I trace the ridge of her collarbone and move lower until my palms are molded to her breasts. They’re perfect—firm mounds topped with up-thrust nipples that harden now under my hands. I gently squeeze.
“See?” I nod to the screen. “It shows what’s below the skin.”
She looks past me to the screen flashing with imagery of her breast tissue “Healthy.” the doctor says. “Perfect.”
“Perfect,” I repeat, squeezing slightly. There’s a graph under the image of her breasts, and at the pressure of my hands a jagged red line rises. I don’t explain to her that this line charts her arousal.
I move my hands lower as the table separates between her legs and pulls them apart, spreading her wide. Kit is squirming now to the extent that she can.
“Your daddy is going to touch you between your legs now.” Dr. Armand’s voice is calm. “Just sink into the surrender, little one. You may be surprised at what you feel. If you are inclined to men, the shot will allow your natural reaction to a man’s touch. Don’t be afraid.”
My hand is resting atop the smooth mound of her labia. Her chest is heaving, her gaze fixed on me now, her eyes filled with a silent plea. She is afraid, but as I slip my finger into the seam of her pussy, I realize her fear isn’t of me, but of what she cannot hide. Kit’s pussy is not drenched, but it is slick. I feel a bit of guilt. Both Dr. Armand and I know what she doesn’t—that was given a placebo. The reaction to my touch is natural.
I slide my finger up, searching now for the hard little kernel hidden beneath the fleshy hood at the apex of her cleft. I do not apply too much pressure to her clit. I move my finger over it gently. Kit quivers and squirms, her soft whimper making my cock press hard against my pants. She’s responding. In spite of everything, she is responding. The red line on the screen shoots higher.
“Just a little more and we’ll be do
ne.” I slip my finger into her pussy. It’s tight around my finger. I slide it in and out once, twice. She bites her lip to keep from moaning.
“Stop…please…”
I immediately remove my finger and she glances up at me with something akin to surprised gratitude that I have done as she asked.
“Healthy woman with a healthy response.” Dr. Armand smiles. “Congratulations, Roman.”
Kit is staring at the ceiling, expressionless now. The elation I felt a moment ago dissipates.
“Let me dress her in private,” I say.
“Absolutely.” I’ve got other patients waiting. “One with a tummy ache. It’s a busy morning.”
I thank him and as soon as he leaves I walk around and push the button that releases the bed’s hold on my ward. Kit sits up slowly, draping her legs over the edge. Despite the fact that I’ve just seen and touched her intimately, she pulls one arm across her breasts. The other she uses to shield the top of her pubic mound.
“So this is how you make me feel safe and protected?” she asks. “Stripping me naked in front of another man? Letting him watch while you fondle my tits and stick your finger in my pussy? Is that what daddies do?”
“No, Kit. But I didn’t touch you as a daddy. Those places I just touched, I touched as a man. When I touch you as a Daddy it will be here…” I tap her forehead. “And here.” I tap above her heart. I pause. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t feel something?”
“I felt nothing.”
It’s a lie, but I let it go. Even if the graph charting her pleasure response hadn’t spiked, I’d have known by the hot, slick warmth that her body had betrayed her. I won’t argue the point with her, though. I’ve gotten the information I was after.
. I hand her the panties. She slips from the table and pulls them on. I help her into her dress. I reach into my pocket for a ribbon I’d intended to give her as a gift.
“For your hair, so you can tie it back.”
“I like my hair down.”
I pocket the ribbon. “So do I. It’s pretty. You’re pretty. I meant to tell you when I saw you last night.”
“Don’t…”
“Don’t what?” I ask.
“Don’t talk to me like any of this is normal.” She slips her feet into her slippers.
“That’s fair.”
“The doctor mentioned other women.”
“He did.”
“I want to see them.”
“And you will. In time. Do you have any questions about them, Kit?”
She smoothes the front of her dress. “Do they hate their daddies, too?”
Now I’m the one hiding my feelings. She’s been disrespectful to Matron Lang and now to me. Distrust is her only weapon and I feel its sting. It occurs to me once again that I could punish her, but instead I turn away.
“No. They’ve overcome their fear.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Leader of Men,” she retorts.
“I’m not talking about fear of men. I’m talking about fear of themselves.”
Ten
Kit
I’m confused. I’m scared. And I’m tired of trying to hide it.
It was easy in the Warrens. In the Warrens, I was so busy concentrating on survival that I didn’t really have time to ponder my feelings. I was too busy focusing on others.
Leisure has become my enemy. I literally have my needs met. No more foraging. There are three meals a day now, rich food that is fleshing out my too thin body. No more shivering. My room is warm. I can no longer stuff down or deny my feelings because they are the sole focus. I am having to face myself.
But who am I?
I have been stripped of my identity. In the Warrens, I was a leader. Now I am treated like a dependent. But also something else.
I’m in my bed, reflecting on the past few days. I’m still refusing to refer to Senator Daley as Daddy, even though that’s how Matron Long refers to him. I have been more careful of my behavior around her since our confrontation. As much as I want to resent her, I find myself giving her a begrudging respect.
There are books on the shelves of my room. My favorites are books on nature.
“You’ve read that one a dozen times,” she remarked last night.
“I like it,” I said. “It makes me sad.”
“You like being sad?”
I’d shut the book. “No. I’m just trying to get used to it. I never had time to really feel it.” I’d run my fingers across the cover. “All those animals. They were so amazing. And to think they’re just…gone. How can people be so cruel.”
“It wasn’t entirely the people.” She’d taken a seat across from me. “The asteroid came first.”
I’d agreed. “True. But you’d think at some point, humanity would have taken stock and tried to save other creatures along with themselves.”
“I don’t think they were thinking like that. They just wanted to survive.” She stands up. “Here., I have something for you.” She had a bag by the door and had pulled out another book.
“The History of New Bethel.”
I’d crossed my arms. “Why would I want to read that?”
“Because, eventually it will be your home. With your daddy.”
“With Senator Daley.”
“I think he’d prefer you call him Daddy, at least for now.”
I take the book. “I think I prefer he treat me like an adult.”
“Are you sure?” She crosses her arms. “You seem very committed to rejecting something you’ve never tried. Childhood is temporary. And magical. You should give it a shot.” She nods at the book. “Even if it’s just a little, Kit. Let him care for you. There will be benefits. I promise. If you feel too vulnerable, then astound him with some adult knowledge of New Bethel. Trust me, he already knows so much about where you come from. Perhaps this will help you understand him better.”
I’d considered her advice as I’d opened the book. I consider it now as I lay in bed. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve found myself growing increasingly curious about the man I refuse to call Daddy, and the effect my experiences with him have on me.
Senator Daley has overwhelmed me twice now, eliciting reactions I’ve only just begun to acknowledge. The first was when he spanked me, the second was on the examining table. Both were humiliating experiences at the time, but in retrospect I puzzle over how my mind and body interprets them in my quiet moments. I screamed at the pain of his punishment, but when I think about how close he moved me to tears, I feel an odd longing I can’t explain. He told me the doctor gave me something to elicit a woman’s response when he touched me. Surely days later it is out of my system, so why do I feel such aching need when I relive the memory of his long fingers stroking the inner walls of my clenching pussy?
In the dark, I slide my hand under the blanket to where he touched me. In the Warrens, there was no time to think on something as frivolous as desire. Like sadness, it was something I suppressed. I can’t ignore it now, just like I can’t ignore the accompanying emotions. As I run my finger through the slit of my pussy, I am seized by feelings of frustration and betrayal. I should be fighting these feelings, not succumbing to them. This man is my enemy, and yet the memory of my life’s two most humiliating moments are birthing urges that can only be relieved by my own hand.
I bite my lip as I shudder with a small orgasm. He wants to coddle me like a little girl, but he also is preparing to take me as a woman. What would that be like?
I turn to the wall, pushing the thought from my mind. It doesn’t matter. It will never happen. I will fight these feelings. I will not give in. Nothing good can come from it.
Eleven
Roman
I’ve been lurking in the hall, waiting for Matron Lang. While I may be using a project intended for men of the labor class, rank still has its privilege, even at Paternas. I have my own wing and was able to select the matron I wanted to tend to my ward.
I still regret that Matron Blunt had been the one to overse
e Kit’s transport, but knowing the importance of this match, she’d insisted. If my ward’s introduction to Paternas had been less harsh, perhaps she’d be less guarded.
I hear a click and see the familiar, lithe form as Matron Lang shuts the door.
“Linda.” I call out to her quietly as I step from the shadows.
“Senator Daley.” She’s quiet as well, even though it’s just us in the hallway. “It’s late. Is everything okay?”
“Yes. I just wanted to ask you about Kit. How do you think she’s faring?”
“As well as could be expected.” The moonlight is slanting through the floor to ceiling window. As the matron approaches, the light falls on her face. I’ve always considered her attractive in a strong, fierce way. Linda used to be a servant in my sister’s house. When my sister started to complain about how Marcus stared at her, I offered Linda a position at Paternas. We’ve since become friends.
“What happened the other morning, before the doctor’s appointment?”
Linda is nearly as tall as I am. She eyes me directly. “Three stripes across the hand. Are you angry with me?”
“No. I’m sure it was with cause.”
“It was,” she says. “I’m not cruel, Roman. I’m not like the other matrons. Being strict isn’t my natural nature. I did what I had to do. For her. And for me.”
“Linda, you don’t have to explain…”
“If I didn’t have to explain, you wouldn’t have asked me. When she challenged me, all I could think was what would happen if she did it openly. It would draw scrutiny to have a ward who doesn’t obey. Matron Blunt watches me as closely as Senator Thane did, with the same suspicion.” She pauses. “Do you think she knows?”
I manage a reassuring smile. “I think it’s just Matron Blunt’s nature. She’s a controlling person. It served her well at the New Bethel Women’s Academy. My sister was terrified of her. I think that’s why Marcus put her name in as Head Matron here. He wanted someone who shared his views to run this place, someone who sees women as he sees them.”