Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Perfect,” he groaned, his fingers digging into my flesh. “Such a good little concubine, using her cunny exactly as she was trained.”
I moved faster, driven by the desperate need to please him and the building pleasure in my own core. The lack of my governor’s suppression made every sensation overwhelming, my body responding with shameful eagerness to the intimate friction.
Suddenly, Prince Hendren’s control snapped. His hands seized my hips with bruising force as he began to thrust up into me with devastating force. I cried out as he claimed complete control, using my body with the ruthless authority that never failed to drive me to the edge of sanity.
“Yes!” I screamed, my body convulsing as I felt his powerful lap slap my bottom like a reminder of the discipline under which my master kept me. “Oh… oh… please…”
Prince Hendren knew what I wanted, what I needed. His right hand left my hip and somehow he found the handheld and turned on the governor’s stimulation. The buzz of the vibration hit me like lightning, my entire nervous system exploding with sensation as my master continued his relentless claiming of my body. I screamed as the most devastating climax of my life tore through me, my internal muscles clenching around his cock with a force that made him groan beneath me.
“Viola,” he gasped, his voice rough with more than just physical pleasure. “My beautiful, perfect, powerful little whore…”
The tenderness in his tone sent another wave of sensation through me even as my body shook with the aftershocks of climax. His hands moved from my hips to wrap around my waist, pulling me back against his chest as he continued to move within me with gentler strokes.
“I love you,” he breathed against my ear, the words hitting me with more force than any cane ever could. “Do you hear me? I love you. You are more than a concubine to me.”
My heart hammered against my ribs as his confession sank in. Three months of serving him, of being his property, and now this declaration that changed everything.
“I’m going to make you my consort,” he continued, his lips brushing my neck as he spoke. “My favorite fuck toy. And Viola… I’m going to put a baby in you. My child. A little prince or princess who will be the symbol of everything we’ve built together.”
The words sent a shock through my entire being. A baby. His heir. The ultimate claim of ownership, and yet also the ultimate elevation from mere property to something precious beyond measure.
“Do you want that?” he asked, his voice vulnerable in a way I’d never heard before. “Do you want to carry my child, to be the mother of the future of the Federation?”
The answer erupted from my throat without thought: “Yes! Oh God, yes, Master! Please, put your baby in me!”
Prince Hendren’s grip tightened as his own climax approached, his thrusts becoming more urgent. “Then take my seed, my sweet slut. Take everything I have to give you.”
With a final, powerful surge, he released his seed deep within me, his warmth flooding my core as I felt another climax building in response to his. The knowledge that he might be planting his child in me at this very moment sent me over the edge again, my body convulsing around him as I cried out my devotion.
“I love you too, Master,” I sobbed, the words feeling both terrifying and inevitable. “I love you, and I want everything you’re offering me.”
As we lay entwined afterward, his seed still warm inside me, I marveled at how completely my life had transformed. From president to concubine to consort to potential mother of his heir—each step had felt like a fall, but now I understood it had been a strange, wayward ascent all along.
“You should understand what you’re accepting, Viola,” Prince Hendren said, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my bare shoulder. “A Magisterian consort is still owned property. You will remain my possession in every legal sense.”
I turned in his arms to face him, seeing the familiar calculating expression that meant he was ensuring I understood the full implications of what he offered. “But,” he continued, “you will be recognized as the foremost sexual servant in the Federation. The highest ranking concubine in the galaxy. Only I will be allowed to command you, and other women will be expected to acknowledge your status.”
The words sent a complex thrill through me. To be elevated above all other concubines—to hold a position of honor even in my submission—was a strange kind of power that appealed to the politician I had once been. Yet I found myself wondering, as I had so many times before, whether my excitement was genuine or simply another layer of the performance I had constructed around my surrender.
Did I truly crave this recognition, or was I simply playing the role of the ambitious concubine who would do anything to rise in her master’s favor? The question felt familiar now; that eternal uncertainty about where my authentic self ended and my carefully crafted submission began. Perhaps that ambiguity was itself the source of my contentment—living in the space between truth and performance, never quite knowing which was which.