by Maren Smith
"Put her over my lap, and hold her legs and arms if you have to while I spank her."
Lord Jason watched with satisfaction as Merilla was positioned atop his thighs, her adorable bottom uppermost. He could tell simply from the tension in her upper body, when he put his left hand on her back, that she fell into that delicious class of young woman who needed to struggle when they have become the property of a dominant master. He sensed, too, that like many of the girls inducted through the Paternian war-reparations program, Merilla had a very strong instinctive reaction to the key element of the program — the forced youthening, as the Magisterians called it.
Indeed, just like Borina, whose eye Lord Jason caught as Merilla squirmed over his lap, the naked new girl clearly felt towards this first stage of her forced youthening an ambivalence so strong it had awoken a terrible turmoil in her mind, her heart, and above all her sweet young quim. Borina had served Lord Jason personally for two years, as one of her three master-daddies, so he hoped today to find a naughty girl of the same sort to replace her. Lovely, disobedient Merilla already seemed a fine candidate.
Lord Jason had enjoyed especially the blushes of shame that always suffused Borina's face when made to lower her little-girl panties and spread her pert bottom-cheeks for the entry of his hard cock, or when her master-daddy then dressed her hairless little quim in a diaper to teach her not to talk back to him. He had known — just as he knew, instinctively, the same thing about young Merilla — that Borina's embarrassment on such occasions didn't arise only from the humiliation of being treated like a little girl even as she underwent sexual training and use for a Magisterian's lord's lewd enjoyment.
No, Borina and Merilla fell emphatically into a class of girl who felt the sexual need awakened by forced youthening so strongly that it mortified them even more than the degradation itself did. All the girls chosen for induction into the war-reparations program got aroused by the submissive sexual service demanded of them. The genius of the Magisterian system lay in identifying, throughout the human-colonized worlds, those women whose needs matched their masters' dominant philosophy — above all the girls who didn't yet know about those needs. Still, only a few of those young women responded the way Borina and Merilla did.
"All of you, please observe," he said, watching the twenty-year-olds turn to see the lord deputy with the naked girl over his lap.
"No!" Merilla cried obligingly, twisting her head from side to side, helping Lord Jason attract the attention of her fellow young colonists. "You can't! You can't!"
The policemen held her arms and legs down, so Lord Jason's hand on her back could keep her easily in place over his lap despite her frantic struggles.
The administrator knew his function at this moment very well. "Shall I silence the girl?" he asked, from the position he had assumed to Lord Jason's right, so as to observe pretty Merilla's first spanking as closely as possible.
"Please, administrator," the Magisterian said.
He observed the twenty-year-olds as they watched the magistrate take the remnants of Merilla's blue panties from his pocket. Lord Jason felt his cock give a leap along his leg at the sight of the administrator putting the girl's underwear in her mouth — he did so enjoy what he usually thought of as the little drama of making a girl taste herself in that lascivious way.
He had held his right arm by his side, since dropping it as it became clear that Merilla would not come to his lap for her spanking like a good girl, but would have to be placed there by the police and held down, at least at first. Now, sure he had the attention of all the other Paternians in the room, Lord Jason turned his attention downward, to Merilla's creamy, delectable bottom and put his right hand on it, fondling her little cheeks intimately as a prelude to her punishment.
Merilla emitted a muffled, desperate cry at the feeling, bucking over her daddy's lap as much as she could while held there by the hands of strong men.
"Shh," Lord Jason said, as if only to the girl over his lap for discipline, but loud enough that all the Paternians could hear it. That didn't require much volume, because other than Merilla's whimpering through her panties the only sound in the room was the labored breathing of the naked girls and the pink-clothed ones on the bench — and perhaps of a few of the twenty-year-olds, helplessly aroused at the lewd sight. "Choose to be a good girl for your new daddy."
The feeling of the taut, silky skin under his right hand, of the sweetly resilient globes he caressed and gently squeezed, was heavenly. He kept enjoying his exploration, his fingers dipping lewdly into the valley between Merilla's young cheeks, as he raised his eyes again to the twenty-year-old cohort of this settlement, come to bring home the girls who had served for two years just as the girl over his lap would now serve.
"All of you," the lord deputy said again, "will please pay very close attention as I discipline this young woman for her failure to remove her clothing when instructed to do so. Merilla's panties, which she now so fetchingly 'wears' in her mouth, had to be cut from her little cunny and this adorable bottom by your town administrator, so that she could be brought here to me in the state suitable to her new condition."
As he spoke of Merilla's new condition, Lord Jason pressed two fingers down between her thighs so that he could feel the parting of the girl's untried quim. She cried out through her panty-gag, her back arching under her new daddy's left hand.
He looked around the room again, making eye contact with nearly every one of the twenty-year-olds, before he continued.
"This is an important day for your settlement," he told them, "and for your planet."
Lord Jason turned his eyes to the girls seated on the bench, in their pink dresses, the black webbing holding them firmly in place. He watched the clothed young people look with him.
"Your friends have come back to you, dressed in such a way as to teach your settlement a continuing lesson," Lord Jason said. "They have learned to be good girls, just as Merilla here will learn. Each of them has received a good many spankings of her own, of course, naked over a man's knee, and each of them has felt the manhoods of their master-daddies enjoying their young bodies many times — just as Merilla will."
He gripped the girl's pert bottom more firmly, worked his fingers deeper, so that he could feel the place where he would soon have the delight of deflowering her. He pushed the tips of his fingers inside a little ways, and heard her moan with need as he found the wetness he knew would be there for him.
At that moment, as Merilla moaned desperately on his skillful fingers, Lord Jason drew his right hand back and began to spank her.
In general, Lord Jason spanked hard, and he wished Merilla to have no doubt that even when her daddy had played with her quim before punishing her, he would punish her nonetheless. He began with six spanks, raising his hand above his shoulder for each one and dividing them evenly between her adorable cheeks, as she cried out into her panties and tried to kick but found herself once again held by the policeman behind her. Merilla's firm bottom bounded with each hard swat, and the pert globes quickly bore the bright pink color Lord Jason loved to see.
"When you can take your spanking without the policemen holding you, girl," he said, not letting up with his right hand but continuing to bring it down hard on Merilla's now-red bottom, "your spanking will end."
With every swat, now, Merilla cried out pitifully, her voice muffled by the underwear in her mouth. Lord Jason sensed a relaxing of her muscles that he knew well, and he nodded to the policemen to step back. When they did, the girl hung limp over his lap.
All the attention in the room, Lord Jason could see, had focused on him and Merilla, exactly as it should.
"Take hold of the chair-legs, Merilla," the lord deputy said, ceasing the spanking for a moment and using his right hand to stroke her warm cheeks instead.
Merilla moaned, her back heaving into a sob. With satisfaction Lord Jason watched her obey, putting her hands at the bottom of the wooden legs.
"Please," he heard one of the twent
y-year-old girls whisper. "No more."
He looked up to survey the gathering, seeing their uncertain faces, aroused despite themselves, unsure of what to make of this display of Magisterian dominance.
"Three more spanks, to teach you to accept your lesson," he said to Merilla, looking down at her shuddering back. She greeted the news with a pleading whimper, but she remained still.
Lord Jason looked up at the Paternians. "The girls you're escorting home today will wear their special clothes every day for the next year. You young men may court them as long as you are willing to attend a workshop on how to satisfy their needs according to the Magisterian philosophy. Once I have finished disciplining this girl, you're all free to go, except of course the new girls. You will see them in two years."
Chapter Three
As Lord Jason helped Merilla stand up, he said to Heva and Welana, "Girls, I want you to have a good look at Merilla's bottom. I'm going to put her over the bench so you can see what happens to disobedient young ladies in my city."
Her bottom felt like she had sat on the stove. It hurt to walk the few steps to the bench, and she sobbed at each movement not so much with that pain, even, as with the shame of having been punished naked over a man's knee. She sank to the floor almost gratefully, and did not resist as Lord Jason pressed her face against the synth-leather of the bench's seat, with her breasts just at its edge, though his dominant hands on her back and in her hair drew a humiliating moan from her chest.
Why had she resisted, at the beginning of the punishment? Why had she made the policemen put her over Lord Jason's lap and hold her there? Surely it had only made her… her master-daddy… spank her harder?
With her cheek pressed against the bench, Merilla tried to search her thoughts and feelings. She cast her mind back to the mortifying scene in front of her house, when she had rebelled against the administrator's command to take off her underwear. She bit her lip, remembering the moment she had tried to run away here in the room with the terrible bench.
"Raise this, sweetling," she heard him say, as he returned his hand to her still-hot bottom-cheeks and took firm grasp of them. "Arch your back properly, so your friends can see you."
Lord Jason had stooped over her, to position her for this humiliating ordeal, and so his voice came from a spot very close to Merilla's ear. She could feel the warmth of his breath and she even caught the scent of its sweet smell, minty from the Magisterian's tooth-cleanser. That made her think again of his impeccable green uniform, of his manicured fingernails, of his cultured accent and the grey at his temples.
Merilla had always heard that Magisterians were more civilized than Paternians — at least since the war, with the change in the school-curriculum. She hadn't truly believed it until now, seeing Lord Jason — seeing him, and feeling his hands on her whether she liked it or not.
He had called her sweetling. All the confused thoughts and feelings came rushing back, and she sobbed into the bench seat, feeling how the motion of her upper body made her tingling nipples brush against the synth-leather. It made her hips buck, and her bottom squirm, in a truly mortifying way — a way that moreover moved her backside in the opposite direction to the one Lord Jason had commanded.
"No," he said in a voice that to Merilla's surprised seemed less severe than sympathetic. Its gently scolding tone made the problem between her thighs, the sense-memory of his skillful hand there, worse.
But the lord deputy accompanied his no with a lifting of his right hand off her bottom and then, to Merilla's sobbing sorrow and fearful cry, an increase of the pressure on her back.
She knew what would happen: she had learned it only a few minutes prior, over his lap. When Lord Jason used his left hand like that, on a girl's back, and he lifted his right hand…
Merilla cried out, "Please, no!" just as she felt the puff of air from the Magisterian's firm right hand. Then she heard the slap of his palm and fingers echo off the walls of the big, now empty room, and she felt its terrible sting on her right bottom-cheek. Combined with the terrible soreness he had bestowed there over his knee, it felt like a burning brand, and Merilla cried out again with the awful pain of old-fashioned bare-bottom discipline.
"I… told… you… sweetling," Lord Jason said as he renewed her spanking in this even more humiliating position, "to… push… this… up."
"Oh, no… oh, no… oh, no," Merilla sobbed into the bench. Desperately she tried to do as her master-daddy had told her. She arched her back as much as she could and she tried to raise her backside, so that Heva and Welana would see her bottom and know that they never ever wanted to have a bare-bottom spanking of their own.
"Girls, please watch carefully," Lord Jason said. "Merilla is trying to be a good girl, now, and good girls earn treats from their daddies."
The Magisterian's left hand moved around Merilla's right hip, to take firm hold of her there. That made Merilla cry out, but what his right hand did made her shame herself so utterly that she felt sure she would faint. Lord Jason thrust that hand between her thighs, his fingers twining in the little nest of chesnut fur and his thumb pressing inside the soaking slit of her pussy. Merilla arched her back even further, and she felt her bottom work to the motion of her daddy's urgent fingertips.
She simply couldn't help it: the smart of the bare-bottom spanking… her position naked over the bench… the eyes of the other girls… Lord Jason's cheekbones… Lord Jason's hands… Merilla's little pussy, crowned with embarrassing grown-up hair… the pink panties, the smooth pink pussies, her bare little bottom raised over her daddy's knee for an old-fashioned spanking…
"Good girl," the Magisterian said in his deep, cultured voice, softly into her ear. "Good girl. Time to come for Daddy. Time to come for the very first time."
Dimly, she felt her master-daddy's hands fondling her gently as the climax jolted in her hips, her thighs, even her arms.
"There you go, sweetling," he said. She felt the pressure of his lips, to her surprise, on the skin of her shoulders. She started at the feeling, gave a little cry. "Shh," Lord Jason breathed in her ear, and kissed her there. "See what a good girl gets?"
Then with a final caress his hands left her, and she sensed that he had stood up.
"Come, girls," he said to Heva and Welana. "It is time for you, too, to go over the bench, though I am afraid you will have to wait for your first climaxes until you meet your own daddies. I must bare these sweet little pussies, though, before we get you dressed to say goodbye to your families."
She heard a click behind her, and then a strange buzzing, as the other girls obeyed.
"I want your knees spread, girls," Lord Jason said. "And I want you to put your hands back and spread your bottom-cheeks for me. I'm going to remove the hair from your little quims now with my sonic trimmer."
Quim. Merilla's face went very hot. The teachers in senior health class hadn't taught them that word. It must be a Magisterian word? She didn't have any doubt what it meant.
She heard Welana give a little sob, and felt the bench shift as the other two naked eighteen-year-olds complied with Lord Jason's shameful instruction. Merilla couldn't help picturing it: their little hands spreading their bottoms, the pussies and the bottom-holes obediently confronting the gaze of their master-daddy.
"Merilla," he warned, "don't make me spank you again. Show me your quim and your little anus."
She whimpered as her body responded to the degradation, warmth and need growing in the place her daddy had demanded to see. She didn't want to show him, but now that the pleasure from his dominant hand had faded, her bottom still hurt so much from her punishment. She couldn't bear any more… she just couldn't. She reached her hands back and took hold of those sore cheeks, whimpering with discomfort and need at the touch of her own fingers. She spread them open with a little sob of shame, and felt the air moving where it shouldn't move.
"There we go, sweetlings. Three pretty cunts and three pretty arseholes, almost ready for your lucky daddies."
T
hen the buzzing came closer, went to Merilla's left. She heard Heva give a startled little cry, but not of pain.
"Just feels warm on your quim, doesn't it?" Lord Jason said in a gentle voice. "There we go. Getting nice and smooth for fucking, aren't you now?"
The girls had been allowed to wear pink dressing gowns to say goodbye to their families in the administrator's office. As soon as they had boarded the automated, self-driving transport vehicle that would take them to the Magisterian garrison in Paternia's capital city, Lord Jason told them to take those off.
"The journey to the capital will take half an hour," he told them as they gazed with wide eyes out the windows at their planet's arid, rocky surface. The transport with its huge, knobby tires had begun to roll out the port built into the town hall's lower level, and the sound of the howling winds that composed Paternia's excuse for an atmosphere could already be heard in the cabin. "You will be naked during it, and you will of course also disembark that way, when we arrive, to meet your daddies, except for the diapers I am going to put you in now."
He reached into the crate that sat on the transport's right front seat and took out one of the synth-cotton oblongs of thick woven fabric, specially sized and sewn for young women inducted into the Magisterian war-reparations program.
The girls, their attention fully diverted now from the fascination of Paternia's landscape, exchanged anxious, embarrassed glances, each of their faces bright crimson in the well-lit cabin. Lord Jason found that he had again fixed his attention on Merilla, for her reaction to this humiliating news seemed to him the most piquant of the three. Her eyes went from the diaper in the Magisterian's hand to his face, her lower lip caught between her teeth.
"Why?" she whispered, as if she hadn't meant to say anything at all. Then, seemingly because once Merilla realized she had uttered the question she felt the need to make plain her denial of the lewdness the idea had inspired, she said. "Please… sir… please don't."
