Chosen by the High Judge (Under Alien Law Book 2) Read online

  Adris nodded. “Then I would suggest you retrieve her from detention. Swiftly, sir.”

  “Have her brought back here to my chambers for sentencing.”

  Adris left.

  Galen finished his tepid coffee. She could refuse. But if her eyes were any indication of her feelings, he doubted she would.

  * * *

  They’d let her wash the tears from her face before locking her in a cell. She’d cried all the way from the courtroom to the detention center two streets away. Bundled into a shuttle with an unsympathetic guard, she wanted to curl up on the seat and disappear. But she couldn’t. She had been shackled around the ankles and wrists for the duration of the short journey. For a civilization with advanced technologies, the Vendu were woefully archaic when it came to their treatment of prisoners.

  Alone in a small cell, she waited. There was a wide bench, which she perched on. The cold steel made her shiver. They’d gone to fetch the medic. What he had planned for her, Zara wasn’t sure, but it was guaranteed to be unpleasant and degrading.

  All this because of a few bottles of liquor. Her friends back in New Phoenix had sent them as a birthday gift. What she’d failed to notice was the alcohol content: double the usual strength. A nice idea to reduce the cost of shipping the stuff, except she’d given it to her Vendu colleagues; women with whom she hoped to cultivate a friendship. They’d drunk it like water.

  The little musical concert they had performed on the street by the fountain was hardly a serious offense, although she had discovered the Vendu weren’t especially good at singing. After that things got a bit hazy. Had she been that appalling? Once a Vendu is captured they should obey their captors and not make a serious escape attempt.

  She had let so many people down: her mentor, the enthusiastic man who had guided her through the training program, her Vendu language professor without whom she would never have become fluent, and above all else, her family. Her mom and dad. Her little sister, April. Each day April battled to stay alive while an incurable disease racked her body. The program’s coordinator had no inclination of Zara’s other mission, the one her parents had put great hope in Zara achieving.

  The door opened and she jumped to her feet. Three men! One was a burly guard with a shaved head covered in tattoos, the other an officious-looking man with a disdainful expression, and the third had to be the medic. Dressed in a white tunic and face mask, he carried a case. Laying it on the end of bench, he opened it and began to place objects on the surface. Metal things with tubes and what looked like a thin speculum. She guessed they were probes and sensors.

  “You need to undress,” the official said.

  She froze. Undress! The reality of the dire situation sank in. What if she resisted? Would they rip her clothes off?

  The doctor patted her shoulder. “Once you’re naked, I want you bent over the bench for a thorough inspection.”

  Behind her, the guard snorted gleefully. “Your first human, Doctor?” he said.

  The medic pivoted to face the two men. He ignored Zara. “Yes. I’ve read up on their anatomy. I’m especially keen to see her external clitoris. I gather it is highly responsive to stimulation.”

  “What!” Zara shrieked, snapping her knees together. “You can’t touch me there.”

  “Clothes off, Zara Webb,” barked the guard. “The doctor can examine you as he sees appropriate. I expect he’ll give your ass a good oiling too, then when I give you your first spanking—”

  “You?” she stuttered. “Spank me?”

  “A tempering procedure,” the official explained. “To prepare you for the whipping. Each spanking will desensitize you and teach you not to tense. We don’t want any permanent harm.”

  “Each spanking…” She stepped back, away from the guard.

  “With my hand.” The guard flexed his wrist.

  She turned to the medic. “Please, sir, you can’t let them do this.”

  “It is the authorized procedure. It’s for your benefit. After a few spankings, you’ll develop a continuous sense of warmth. It’s not that unpleasant. If you clench too much, we can insert a plug in your anus to teach you to keep your buttocks apart.” The medic tapped the bench, his impatience growing.

  The blood drained from her face. Now she felt like vomiting. The tears she’d chased away were rapidly reforming. This was just the beginning. She still had the public whipping to endure.

  Her back hit the wall. She’d nowhere to go.

  The door swung open and a perspiring guard barged into the room. “Good, I’ve caught you in time,” he panted. “You’re to stop. The judge wants her back for resentencing.”

  Zara’s legs turned to jelly and she nearly collapsed against the wall. Things were about to get worse.

  Chapter Three

  It wasn’t to the courtroom that the guard took her, but to an adjoining office overlooking the city of New Ayers Rock. The top of the rock was just visible through the window and slightly hidden by other buildings and trees. The tranquil view didn’t calm her nerves. Why was she here?

  Judge Hosta was behind his desk. Hanging on the wall was the ceremonial sword of his office and the sharp edge of the blade gleamed. The Vendu venerated their past, including their ancient symbols of power and the kind of rituals that humans had ended centuries ago. Its presence reminded Zara how barbaric the Vendu were when it came to their attitudes towards discipline.

  He rose as she entered. “Remove her shackles,” he instructed the guard.

  Once the cuffs were removed, the guard was dismissed.

  The judge approached Zara. He was taller and bulkier than she anticipated. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been sitting behind his high bench in the courtroom with a protective shield of glass. She suspected he packed plenty of muscles behind his formal suit. He stopped a few feet shy of reaching her.

  “You’re shaking,” he noted. “Would you like a drink of water?”

  She smacked her dry lips together. He was showing her kindness—it was a little unnerving. But, she was thirsty.

  “Yes, please,” she replied.

  He poured a glass of water from a jug on his desk. She clasped it with both hands and sipped a few mouthfuls. It helped. “Thank you. Sir.”

  The judge folded his arms across his broad chest. “I’m High Judge Galen Hosta, Warrior of Halos.”

  She knew his name, but hearing him introduce himself formally was reassuring because for some reason he had felt it important to explain who he was. He removed the glass from her trembling fingers and placed it back on his desk.

  “And you are Zara Webb. Exchange student from the Institute of Climate Studies in New Phoenix, now resident at the Technology University of New Ayers Rock where you study our weather-altering apparatus. You came highly recommended, I gather.” He stayed by his desk, creating space between them. She needed it. It wasn’t just his voice that had presence; neatly dressed in his black jacket and straight pants, he made a striking figure.

  “I’m so sorry about all the trouble I’ve caused, I—”

  He lifted a finger, signaling her to hush.

  “Your conviction stands, Zara. It will not be quashed.”

  She slumped and bowed her head. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. The kindness he showed was obviously short-lived.

  “You fear that a public whipping will cause dismay back at home, that your reputation will be destroyed, that any sympathy you might gain for the harshness of the whipping will be lost when your fellow humans find out you were drunk and behaved badly.” He described the situation with accuracy.

  She raised her head. “Yes, sir.”

  He perched on the edge of his desk and crossed his legs. “I’m proposing an alternative sentence. Are you familiar with ordeals?”

  She shook her head.

  “Not surprising as they rarely happen. It is part of our ancient history. Each ordeal relates to a legend. The legend of Astra tells of a princess, the youngest of the first emperor. She craved his attenti
on, but failed to win his affection as he was too busy fighting wars. When his greatest enemy, Brynt, came for peace talks, out of bitterness, she stole the jewels of Brynt’s dead wife from his chamber while the two men met.” The judge paused.

  “She got caught?” Zara bit on her lip. She’d interrupted him. However, he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Yes. A maid saw her sneak in and out. The emperor was furious. She jeopardized the peace talks. She was sentenced to a flogging, then exile to a distant world.”

  Zara swallowed hard. It didn’t sound like a promising story.

  “She pleaded for mercy. But, it wasn’t the emperor who saved her, but his enemy, Brynt. He agreed to take Astra to his camp and punish her himself. He would claim her for his pleasure and discipline her alone until he considered her debt paid.”

  “Did she go?” Zara tensed. The story almost bore some resemblance to her situation. Was she going to be sent somewhere? An off-world prison colony was unacceptable. So where?

  “She had no choice. She went and humbled herself for him night after night. By the time he finished, she was both contrite and an accomplished lover. And also a thoroughly spanked one.”

  Zara had to admit the outcome for Astra had to be better than exile even if Astra had to submit to sex. “What became of her?”

  “Her people forgave her and peace was brokered,” he ended the story with some degree of haste.

  Was that really the end?

  “It’s a very interesting legend, but what’s it got to do with me, sir?” She had an inkling she was the new Astra. Surely it wouldn’t involve everything he’d implied, like how Astra had become Brynt’s mistress?

  “I’m offering you the choice: a public whipping or the Ordeal of Astra. You would be privately punished and submit your body to another’s desires for the duration.” He maintained a steadfast gaze with a glimmer in his eyes and she squirmed, unable to look away.

  It couldn’t be possible—what he proposed was unbelievable. “You?” she exclaimed.

  “Me. I am a high-ranking judge and licensed to claim a convict for an ordeal. I will take you to my residence, where you be locked away from prying eyes. A room without luxuries but better than a detention cell.” He stepped toward her, closing the gap and she held her breath. When he reached out to touch her chin, she didn’t flinch, but she snatched a breath. He towered over her and nudged her head up, forcing her to meet his steely gaze.

  Oh, my God, she nearly blurted. The warmth of his breath bloomed over her. She crushed her legs together instinctively. Did he know? How could he. She’d not been examined.

  “I would be your prisoner? Punished by you?” she whispered. How could she agree when she didn’t know him? Who was this judge and why was he willing to take her to his home to conduct this ordeal? Was he simply after a woman, a human female, to fuck? Or worse, was he a sadist?

  “At my discretion. But only me. You would be saved from public humiliation and from your fellow humans witnessing your punishment. They would never know.” He stroked his finger down her cheek. “No tears? You’re not afraid of me?”

  She was still trembling. She had to tell him, because at the moment there was no choice. She couldn’t follow in the footsteps of Astra.

  “I’m a virgin,” she blurted.

  His hand dropped and his eyes widened in surprise. “You’ve never been with a man?”

  She smirked, feeling a little mollified by the admission. “Well, yes, but not that way, and just because I get drunk… not all students…” she added feebly.

  He laughed softly. “Forgive me, I have been presumptuous with my views of human copulation. Is it not your way to fuck once you come of age?”

  Zara rubbed her hands up and down her arms. The direction of the conversation was creeping into the intimate, but if that was what he wanted from her, then he had to understand her better.

  “It used to be something you did on the wedding night, you know.” She shrugged a little nervously. “Not so much like that these days. I’m twenty. I’ve just not met the right man.”

  “Mmm, I see. Then if I was to tell you I promise to take your virginity with consideration, would you still accept my alternative sentence?”

  Fuck, he’s keen.

  He wanted her. She tingled all over and she shouldn’t. It couldn’t be right. He was going to punish her, fuck her, do whatever the hell he liked. “And then, after you take my virginity?” she asked slowly.

  “You are mine,” he said softly.

  “For how long?”

  He was close again, hovering right by her breasts and so close to brushing against her. “Until two moons have come and gone. Two moons of Halos.”

  Which meant about seven weeks on Earth. That long! Would it take that long to complete her public whipping? Probably not.

  “I don’t know, sir,” she stuttered, feeling overwhelmed and uncertain.

  “I want you, Zara. I want to punish your sweet bare ass with my hand. I want to witness you come when I demand it. I want to enter you. You will submit and serve me every day. You will stay naked in my presence. In return I shall ensure your privacy is protected, your criminal files kept confidential and you will come to no harm.”

  The room was hot. Or felt hot. The blood had rushed to her cheeks and she swayed.

  He caught her arm and steadied her. “Sit down here.” He led her to a chair and she flopped onto it.

  He brought back the glass of water and held it to her lips.

  After the cool liquid trickled down her dry throat, she spoke. “I don’t want to be whipped. Will you whip me?”

  He frowned. “The whipping is necessary, but as I shall be conducting it, it will be a formality. The focus of your punishment won’t be the whipping. Neither will you be punished in public. I shall hold you accountable in private. You will obey me and disobedience will warrant further punishments.”

  “How can I trust you?” Tears threatened again.

  He crouched by her chair. “You have my word. And, if it reassures you, my house is kept by my mother’s old nursemaid. Well, my old nurse.” He grinned. “Bisma came with me from Halos.”

  “Won’t she be… shocked?”

  The judge—Galen, he had a name and she needed to think of him as a fellow humanoid—chuckled. “Bisma? A nurse is not just there to raise children and nurse the sick. She is quite adept at preparing the body for sex.”

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  It sounded simple. Submit to Galen and pretend to be Astra, the legendary lover of Brynt, and the slate would be wiped clean. Nobody, only the court recorder, would know.

  Galen stood and she remained under his shadow; it seemed to embrace her as if the darkness wanted her too.

  Nothing made sense any more. She should refuse, be repulsed by his offer, but she wasn’t, because if she cast aside her doubts and pride, she wanted to know what it felt like to have a man take her. Not just any man, but an alien who was capable of fucking for hours without tiring.

  She looked up into his bright eyes. They beckoned, called to her. They weren’t evil eyes; they were serious and kind of sexy in a peculiar way.

  “I accept the Ordeal of Astra,” she whispered.

  “Kneel at my feet and say it,” he commanded.

  She sank and knelt. Her voice came out surprisingly clear. “I accept the Ordeal of Astra. I accept I am yours.”

  “Good. This pleases me. To ensure you understand, I’m going to take you over my knee and spank you.”

  Zara scrambled to her feet. “Now?”

  “If you can’t submit to me here and now, then how will you when I take you to my home and shackle you to my bed?”

  “Shackle?” What had she agreed to do! A rush of nausea hit her belly. Galen wasn’t going to ease her gently into this ordeal thing he proposed. He meant business and now.

  “You’re a prisoner. You will earn my trust. If you behave, then I shall reward you with greater liberties. The first test is to take down your pants and b
end over my lap. Now!”

  Her mouth hung open for a few seconds. “But… but why?”

  “Your ass needs tempering. And, I want to punish it.” He touched the back of the chair as if to claim it. “It’s time you took responsibility for the trouble you’re in, or have you forgotten what a naughty human you’ve been?”

  The reprimand was the sort of silly thing her father might say to her when she’d done something wrong—naughty girl, Zara. Except when Galen said the words, they didn’t sound the slightest bit silly. He’d given them an edge, a hardness in his tone that made her pulse race and her skin tingle.

  He pulled her to her feet. Before she could protest, he sat on the chair, drew her down and over his lap, and began to pull down her waistband. He dragged her pants down to her knees and as she wriggled, he did the same to her panties. No cool rush of air hit her skin; she was too hot to feel anything remotely refreshing. She clenched her ass cheeks tight together and went rigid.

  Was this any less humiliating than being tied to a post and whipped while the world watched on? Probably, it certainly felt that way.

  The smack of his hand on her ass caused her to jump up, so he grabbed her arm and pinned it behind her back, then hooked his leg over hers, preventing her from rising up. The next smack drove her deeper onto his lap until she felt the hard muscles of his thighs.

  She squawked as he continued to switch from one buttock to another at a rapid pace and the noise echoed around his office in a horrible way, as if her bottom had been turned into a drum set.

  “Oh, ow, ow!” she howled, feeling each slap meet her tense cheeks. She knew she should try to calm down, but she couldn’t. The more she battled against him, the harder his hand came down and the worse it felt.

  She’d never been spanked before. It wasn’t horrendously painful or even agonizing, but it still damn well hurt. She tried to twist her bottom to one side, but he’d locked her in place with his firm grip.

  “Keep still, little human,” he commanded and rained down a few more smacks.

  Little human!