by Maren Smith
They had known about sex before, from a school unit when they were ten or eleven, but it had been made clear then that they wouldn't have to worry about it until they graduated. Their private parts should be kept private until then, and kept clean and covered. Babies got made by the putting together of those private parts, but children under eighteen needn't think about how that happened.
In the senior health class, Merilla had learned that it happened by men getting interested in ayoung woman whose breasts had begun to fill the cups of her bra. Paternia hadn't been a very prosperous colony before the Magisterian conquest, and its material circumstances had deteriorated further since then: the colony couldn't afford to allow courtship to occupy too much time, and since the gene pool stood just on the edge of viability, sexual choice had to be strictly limited. The eighteen-year-old girls would begin to attend dances, where they would know exactly which boys were permitted to take an interest in them.
When an approved boy took an interest, he would seek her consent to bring her to a courtship room. There she would undress, and they would have sex. The co-teachers of the health class, a married couple, made it sound mildly enjoyable, but the idea embarrassed Merilla so much that she could hardly look at them. She wasn't sure why she should be so embarrassed, and it didn't seem like all the girls in the class felt the same way — though she could tell a few of them did, the ones who bit their lips and looked down at their desks, while the others exchanged what seemed to Merilla strangely knowing smiles.
Eleven girls had just turned eighteen in Merilla's settlement. She hadn't known any of the others, since schooling happened in small local units so that — in Merilla's settlement anyway — the older kids could help with tending to the plants growing in the hydroponic farms that represented the colony's most important resource. It seemed to her like the girls who gave the knowing smiles must come from the center of town, where they probably had had a chance to see how courtship worked.
For Merilla, even the word courtship brought a tingle of shame to her face. To hear the administrator say he wanted to see her breasts and her pussy made that tingle seem to run up and down her whole body.
Lord Jason Lourcy, deputy provincial governor of Paternia, watched young Merilla's induction with great interest, seated at his desk in the temporary office provided to him in the settlement's town hall. The Magisterians called the delicious moment when an eighteen-year-old female of a conquered world was made to strip naked for the first time her induction, since it led her onto the beginning of the path that would deliver her, finally, into sexual servitude.
The reparations program instituted on Paternia used a sophisticated algorithm to identify the girls taken for their conquerors pleasure. Merilla, like the other two naked girls already in the administrator's car, had demonstrated in her senior health class exactly the sort of innocence that made an eighteen-year-old most appealing.
Lord Jason's rather pleasurable duty here in her settlement today involved supervising the first phase of pretty Merilla's training. Most importantly, he would take charge of the three teenagers when they arrived at the town hall in a little while.
Through the body camera of one of the police officers, Lord Jason watched Merilla's face turn a deep red at the administrator's mention of her breasts and her pussy. Like most of the colonial magistrates with whom Lord Jason had dealt, this one clearly enjoyed this particular part of his job. He had every reason to enjoy it, of course: he had seen the files of the three girls chosen to go to the Magisterian city, and he knew that Merilla had scored quite high on the sexual responsiveness charts.
Moreover, he knew that his Magisterian overlords wished the girls taken to the town hall to understand from the beginning the meaning of their induction: they would soon be sexual servants, as befit their needs and their masters' desires. The administrator knew that he would do Merilla no favors by handling her gently.
The girl's hands trembled as she took off her shirt. They went to her chest to cover her bra, then, but the administrator, with a cruel little smile on his face, nodded to the policemen, and they each seized one of her arms and held her hands at her sides.
"No! Please!" she cried as the tall man in the blue tunic approached her.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, Merilla," he said in a voice that made clear that he didn't actually feel any sorrow about it. He put his hands on her hips and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her brown farmer's canvas pants.
Merilla cried out as the administrator stripped the pants down to her ankles, so that she stood in her underwear — the simple synth-cotton stuff that Lord Jason found strangely arousing because it betokened innocence so well. She shivered at the cold.
The administrator took a step back to look her up and down. He took longer with his lecherous survey than Lord Jason thought strictly helpful, and he frowned at the viewscreen.
"Get on with it, man," he said, shaking his head. He had sometimes considered, as he supervised the past two inductions, that it might help to give the Paternians stricter guidelines as to how to accomplish this stage of the process. Magisterian lords learned in early adulthood how to handle these matters, and it didn't involve leaving girls like Merilla shivering in their underwear for so long.
The administrator, however, had enough of the same masculine instincts as Lord Jason that he did speak the very important words that came next in the process of almost every induction.
"Now, Merilla, you can take off your bra and your panties for me, or I can take them off for you, and you can have a spanking when we get to town hall."
"A… a what?" Merilla asked. Lord Jason studied her face, in the profile he could see through the police body-camera. Some of them really didn't know what a spanking was, despite the seed of mortifying knowledge planted by their health-teachers, at the Magisterians' express command, in the crucial phrase, the old-fashioned way.
Merilla, however, clearly did not fall into that category. Her pink face had flushed a deeper red, and her brow had creased. She glanced at the door through which her mother had disappeared, a sure sign in Lord Jason's eyes that the girl had done the bit of illicit research necessary to learn what the old-fashioned way meant, when it came to the discipline of women.
"You heard me," the administrator said, obviously picking up on the same signals Lord Jason had. "Your Magisterian master-daddy is waiting at town hall, and he would like nothing better than to put you facedown over his lap and treat you like the naughty little girl you are, making me pull your pants down that way."
"What?" Merilla said. "I don't… I don't understand." She looked from side to side in desperation, as if the policemen would confirm that the administrator had lost his mind. Her voice fell to a whisper. "Master-daddy?"
Tight-lipped, the administrator shook his head. He took a pair of safety-scissors from his pocket, at the sight of which Merilla cried out, and began to struggle. The policemen, far from reassuring the girl, held her tighter while the scissors quickly cut through the straps of the girl’s bra, so that the administrator could pull it off her. Lord Jason's noted with pleasure the firmness of the girl's young breasts, over which the magistrate's hands lingered, of course, as he removed the bra.
Merilla had her lower lip between her teeth, and Lord Jason could hear a whine coming from her throat at the touch of the man in the blue tunic. Despite the chill in the air, the Magisterian lord deputy could see very clearly that the girl had tasted real arousal for the first time. Confused, ashamed, and frightened — the precise triggers calculated to ready the sort of girl the Magisterians claimed as their war reparations for her lewd, humiliating training — she struggled against the iron grip of the men holding her fast.
"These are very nice, girl," the administrator said, holding Merilla's left breast frankly now, running his thumb over the nipple to make it stiffen even more than arousal and the cold had already done. "Now let's have a look at your pussy."
Merilla emitted a little whimper as the magistrate put his left
hand inside the waistband of her blue panties, then brought the scissors to bear so that he could cut cleanly through the synth-cotton. The panties fell down around her other leg, exposing an adorable tuft of chestnut fur, just beginning — as befit a girl of eighteen — to crown the sweet slit of her young pussy.
The administrator took a step back so that he could inspect her, his dark eyes fixed on the naughty space between her thighs. Merilla gave another little cry, struggling anew, though to even less effect, against the restraining hands of the policemen.
"Please… don't…" she sobbed. Lord Jason could see on her face just how thoroughly her own body had confused and dismayed her. She didn't even truly understand, of course, what naughtiness meant, or why she should feel such a desperate urge both to cover herself and to be examined more intimately.
"Very nice, Merilla," said the administrator. "That pussy will look even sweeter with your hair removed so your master-daddies can see it clearly and you know they'll take a close look whenever they feel like it."
"Oh, no," the girl whispered. "I don't understand." She shook her little head, her lips pursed and her eyes closed. "I don't understand."
"You don't have to understand," replied the magistrate. He reached for the other side of her panties, whose gusset hung useless against Merilla's right thigh. She cried out to feel his hand there again, so close to the exposed cleft of her girlish labia, the fingers doubtless putting skillful pressure in the region of her certainly aching clit. Lord Jason felt his own cock leap between his thighs at the thought of baring the girl for the last part of her induction, and inspecting her rosy little clitoris at some length.
The scissors cut through the final bit of Merilla's simple blue panties, and the administrator pulled their remnants roughly out from between her thighs, drawing another whimper from the girl.
"I'm sorry you'll have your first spanking so soon, Merilla," he said — once again feigning sorrow so very poorly that Lord Jason had to smile. The man in the blue tunic spoke to the policemen. "Put her in the car."
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter Two
Merilla followed the other two naked girls down the main corridor of the town hall, trying desperately to forget that behind them walked twenty or so fully clothed young men and women. They had seemed just as surprised and embarrassed to see Merilla, Heva, and Welana as the three of them had been to find a large group of slightly older people awaiting them in the town hall lobby. The administrator, though, had said, "Follow us, please, ladies and gentlemen," and led the blushing trio down the hallway with the policemen still keeping careful watch to see that the nude girls did as instructed.
At the end of the corridor, Merilla saw that a doorway opened into a large room that seemed mostly empty. They approached nearer, and she could make out a few pieces of furniture in the brightly lit room — benches, mostly, it seemed. Then Merilla saw that on a bench along the far wall three girls sat, wearing frilly pink dresses that made the heat come to her face as she remembered long ago birthday parties.
The Paternian colonists dressed alike when they reached their teenage years and everyone had to work to ensure the continued, if rather meager, prosperity of the colony. They retained, however, the same reverence for childhood that Merilla had learned in school featured prominently in much human culture. As a little girl, she had worn pretty dresses with ruffles, on special occasions, and when a friend got to wear one — and some girls came from more prosperous families and got to wear nice clothes to school every day — she had felt the sort of envy she knew she shouldn't.
The girls on the bench, whom Merilla recognized now, her eyes going wide at the flash of memory, each wore a pink dress of the kind Merilla had never seen on a girl older than ten. The ruffles on the shoulders and at the waists made her think of the one time she had owned a very pretty hand-me-down from a neighbor-girl, in which she had gone to a special anniversary party. The feelings inside her, as she looked at Jasa, Borina, and Pronda and understood that they had come back from the city of the Magisterians wearing pink little-girl party dresses seemed to churn into a mixture that made Merilla's brow crease and her breath come out between tightly pursed lips with a soft whine.
Merilla looked over at Heva and Welana and saw that they, too, had recognized the young women on the bench, and the three naked girls exchanged wide-eyed, uncomprehending looks. If they had difficulty figuring out what was happening, the group of twenty-year-olds behind them seemed equally confused, and perhaps even more alarmed.
"Borina?" called one boy, as if he couldn't restrain his curiosity.
"That's Pronda," a girl behind Merilla whispered to someone else.
"Why are they…" another girl whispered back. "Why are they dressed… like that?" The speaker's embarrassment for the girls on the bench made itself heard unmistakably in the stifled giggle that followed the question.
"Welcome, boys and girls," said a man Merilla hadn't noticed, who must from his uniform be a Magisterian officer. He spoke in a deep voice, accented with the elegant vowels that Paternians instinctively knew represented the galactic culture to which their own colony aspired. Merilla would have known the handsome man with his grey-flecked temples and his sharp, high cheekbones to belong to the world that had conquered her own simply from his height. She needn't even have noticed his forest green military uniform, bearing on the breasts the insignia Paternian schoolchildren learned marked out nobility and authority and on the shoulders the epaulettes that meant he belonged to the Magisterian inter-planetary service.
The administrator came up behind her and spoke to her, then, though in a voice clearly meant for everyone to hear.
"Merilla, you already have a spanking coming. Take your hands away from your breasts and your vulva this instant. Lord Jason will certainly spank you harder for that."
Merilla heard a nervous giggle from more than one of the twenty-year-olds. It helped a very little to know that whoever had giggled almost certainly had emitted the humiliating sound through sheer anxiety. She realized she had unconsciously put her hands over her private parts, though she and Heva and Welana had been told they must not cover themselves.
"Oh, does this one get a spanking, administrator?" the Magisterian asked. "Come here, girl. Let's get this over with."
In abject horror, Merilla looked up to see the officer looking straight at her, with his right hand pointing to a high-backed, armless chair of a material that she identified as wood, though she had never seen anything actually made of the substance so abundant on the human homeworld and so rare in the colonies.
The old-fashioned way, she heard in her mind. The Magisterians believed in disciplining women the old-fashioned way.
Lord Jason's other hand, the fingers long and elegant and beautifully manicured, stretched out to her, as if inviting Merilla to take it, so that he could lead her to the chair. She knew of spankings from books. She had looked it up, so horrified had the lesson in senior health class made her, with the talk of discipline for saying the naughty words the girls had learned in order that they might at least recognize them, when the time for intimacy came. Daddies gave spankings, in the old days.
They pointed to wooden chairs, and they held out their other hand to lead girls over for the punishment they had earned.
Bare-bottom punishment for naughty young ladies. Discipline with their panties down, for disobeying their daddies' rules.
Merilla turned her eyes again to the girls on the bench, and for the first time she noticed why they sat so still: she saw the straps around their waists and around their wrists, and she had the terrible feeling that just as she did not wish to be naked, Jasa, Borina, and Pronda did not wish to wear the pink party dresses. Again she saw the sympathetic look in their eyes, and she knew that it could only come from their having learned, over the past two years since they had last been seen in the settlement's to
wn hall, how firmly the Magisterians believed in disciplining young women the old-fashioned way.
She felt the administrator's hand on her shoulder, urging her towards Lord Jason. Merilla turned and tried to run.
The policemen took hold of her, of course, as the twenty-year-olds looked on with wide eyes, some of the girls turning away with looks of distress on their faces. The men in the red tunics took Merilla by her arms and marched her to Lord Jason, who looked grave.
Something inside Merilla, something from the body that had rebelled, and tried to flee, spoke to her, then. As she felt the strong grip of masculine hands on her naked limbs, and she still struggled instinctively against their drawing force, bringing her to the terrible wooden chair and the more terrible Magisterian lord, she realized from where her doomed attempt to run away had come.
Even as she sobbed in fear, to see Lord Jason seat himself in the chair and pat his right thigh, then put his hand up again for Merilla to take, so that he might guide her over his lap, she shook her head violently and kept trying to pull away from the policemen. That part of her, deep inside her body, couldn't comply. She needed to resist, though she didn't know why.
Lord Jason sighed as he looked up at her.
"My dear… Merilla, is it?" he asked in that cultured accent that by itself made her heart beat faster with fear.
He seemed to read her acknowledgement of her name from the distress in her face.
"Merilla, I am afraid you are going to have a difficult time accepting your new life in my city. You will quickly learn, however, that your difficulty does not pose much of a challenge for your new daddies."
As Merilla bit her lip, a whine emerging through her nose, Lord Jason turned to the policemen.
