Free The Sevarian Way by Justine Elyot

door.
    The Minister walked around behind her, and she felt cold fingers trail along the welts. Her skin burst into goosebumps and she emitted a tiny squeak.
    “You used a cane,” he noted. “You seem to have had practice. These are expertly laid.”
    “ Suka is my first submissive,” confessed Paul. “As you know, our laws forbid the expression of power exchange within a sexual relationship. This was our first opportunity. But I had practiced on…soft furnishings. In my youth.”
    The Minister laughed. “You poor, repressed people. Perhaps it is as well that you find yourself trapped here. Perhaps you can live freely and fully among us.”
    “We would be honoured.”
    “Your relationship is that of bond master and servant?” questioned the Minister. “In every respect.” His hand landed on Suka’s thigh, stiff with dried semen. “Ah, I see that it is. You use her carnally.”
    Suka shivered. Paul seemed lost for words at this blatant remark.
    “Well, that is good,” continued the Minister. “Your servant can cover herself now, if it pleases you, Commander.”
    “You may,” he said gruffly to her, and she began to hoist the trousers, with the same discomfort as lowering them had caused.
    Turning back around, she moved closer to Paul and buried her face in his arm, unable to face the Minister. Paul’s chuckle was low and affectionate and, to her relief, he pulled her closer in with a protective arm.
    “Well, I find I can’t doubt you,” said the Minister, stroking his chin. “It’s a risk, I know, but I’m inclined to offer acceptance into our civilisation. On the condition, of course, that you assimilate well and undertake to respect our culture. I will place you under observation. You, Commander Paul, will undergo a course of instruction in conduct becoming a Sevarian overlord. I think you may take to it. As for your servant, she shall be prepared for her legal bonding. For the period of one quartile, you will not meet. Keeper, send for the Overseers of the Way.”
    “We will not meet for…?”
    “A quartile,” muttered Paul. “Equivalent of eight weeks or so.”
    “But—”
    Paul took her hands. “Be brave. I know you can be brave, Suka . If we do this, we can live the way we’ve always dreamed of. I want to do this, to be with you. If you want this too…”
    He broke off.
    Suka nodded, emboldened by Paul’s declaration.
    “Yes. It’s what I want. I’m just a bit scared.”
    “Face your fear. I’ll make it worth your while. Do you believe in me?”
    “Yes.”
                                          
    * * * *
     
    Veiled and shrouded in white robes, Suka allowed her bonded attendants to help her up the steps to the temple. Leaving the training centre had been an unexpectedly emotional experience—in the eight weeks she had spent learning her submissive arts, she had grown close to her Paladian fellows. What a revelation it had been, to speak openly of her needs and desires with like-minded women. Frequent bouts of homesickness for her old life were tended to with almost psychic kindness by the girls she had come to view as her sisters. Soon she would be with her master, they would reassure her. His dominion over her would make everything well again. Then they would bring her the warm spiced wine of the Paladians , or a box of crystallised hola -fruit, and run her a perfumed bath.
    And today, their reassurances would come to pass. She looked up through her gauzy veil at that building, recalling so exactly what had passed there before with Commander Paul that she shivered with excited desire. A real bonding now, with a real audience. She was ready for it.
    Entering the temple, she felt straight away that intoxicating flowering of lust, and she looked through the crowds, eager to catch her first glimpse of Paul.
    Yes, he was there. Splendidly clad in the sparkling black robes of a Sevarian bond master, Paul looked even more striking than she