“She cannot harm you now,” Captain Amro said to the people. “Watch. This is why you came.” Then, to the guards: “Strip her.”

One held her while the other tore away her dress, stripping her naked. Rowan kept her head raised even as she felt heat flood her face.

“Bend her over the block.”

She was taken to the large, cold stone, the top of which declined a little so that once she was bent over it, her hips would be the highest point and her head would lay some inches lower. A hand at her back pushed her forward so she bent at the waist. The restraints at her wrists were undone and her arms were stretched outward, the chains affixed to the holds set in the stone. Her legs were next and Rowan rested her chin on the rough stone as her legs were spread and her ankles rebound. Next were the leather ties just above her knees and finally, the thick leather strap was pulled tight across her low back forcing her back to arch, raising her hips higher to present a target to the captain.

“You’ve always been prideful,” Captain Amro said from behind her, coming so close that every hair on her body stood on end as she stiffened. He ran his knuckles just over her hip before leaning in close to her. “But I don’t think you’ll be so proud once I’m finished with you, breeder.”

She hated him. His breath on her ear made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and she clenched her hands into fists.

“It could have gone easier for you, but just remember, you chose this,” he whispered only for her to hear.

That’s what this was about really. He would punish her for her resistance. Most of the breeders were too afraid to and she didn’t blame them for that. Fear could paralyze in a time like this, and today, as the breeders watched the example they made of her from behind their locked windows, that fear would only be strengthened.

“Get on with it then,” Rowan hissed at him, feeling her body begin to tremble as he ran the length of the switch over the flesh of her bare bottom. She would not show her fear. Not to this man. Not even as she knew he could whip her raw.

Captain Amro stepped back then and that was when she saw a male doctor approach. She had seen him before, but males were not permitted to treat or have any contact with the breeders unless they were being bred. He carried in his hand a large syringe, the barrel of which was filled with a dark green gel-like substance that she recognized immediately. Her eyes widened and she snapped her head around to watch Captain Amro watching her with a small, victorious grin on his face.

“Humility,” he said so softly only she would hear it. “Proceed,” he instructed the doctor.

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The man gave her one chastising look and stepped behind her. A hush fell over the crowd.

“We can’t see!” came someone’s voice.

“Give them something to look at,” Captain Amro instructed.

The doctor’s hands were sweaty when he pulled one bottom cheek out to access her back hole.

“This is a large dose for one her size,” the doctor said. “It may be too much.”

“Do it,” Captain Amro barked.

Rowan felt the plastic tip of the syringe press against her back hole. It wasn’t very thick at least but she squeezed her eyes shut as he pushed it into her, slowly taking inch by inch of its length. It would be pressed deep inside her so that the jelly-like stuff would take its time to work. It would cause a fire inside her, burn her from the inside out. The pain would be followed by the humiliation of release, but she might be too far gone to care at that point.

She felt the warm, invading substance as the doctor depressed the plunger, knowing in a matter of minutes, that warmth would begin to heat up until it became a hot coal inside her.

“Keep your bottom soft, girl,” the doctor instructed with a slap to her hip. “It will go easier for you. Stay relaxed and it will not be as painful.”

As painful. She understood the reason for this and knew it was twofold. Humiliation, of course. Captain Amro enjoyed her humiliation. But the second was that she would not be able to clench her bottom throughout her switching. That would only intensify the burn inside.

She knew of one other breeder punished in this way and remembered how she’d been displayed in the square for the others to watch, to witness what happened when one disobeyed. Rowan hadn’t been able to decide whether the pain or the embarrassment had been the worst of it, but when she had approached the poor girl to offer a drink of water, she’d felt a stripe of the switch across her own bottom and had retreated instantly.

She still hadn’t forgiven herself for her cowardice then. She should have taken the beating and stood with the girl. Captain Amro’s punishments were harsh and very personal. Although breeders were, by most accounts, treated well and even lived better than most of colonized society, they were prisoners and Captain Amro made use of their bodies, the parts he could use without jeopardizing the breeding process itself. And the women rarely refused him; they could not.




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