As Fergus had promised, he took her to the office with him. She did her academic work in a little library, where three or four other wives usually sat, reading or sewing (for there were sewing machines there as well), or in one case painting beautiful Draconian landscapes.
The first time, Fergus could tell that Kayla felt terribly self-conscious when he came to get her in the library, since of course all the other wives knew why Fergus was leading her away to one of the private rooms. Fergus came to the door, and crooked his finger, and Kayla rose, blushing furiously and apparently not daring to look at the other women's faces.
"Fergus," she hissed, as she joined him at the door. "Do you have to look like that?"
"Like what?" Fergus asked innocently.
"Like you're going to… you know."
"Well, yes, I think I do. I mean I am going to fuck you now. For the good of the planet."
"All the girls in there know that they're here for fucking, Kayla, and they know that you're here for fucking, too."
"Oh, God, Fergus. If that didn't get me so hot…"
"You wouldn't be my little girl," he replied, taking her hand and leading her down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. Really, ever since they had begun having sex, his dominance had come out to an extent he sometimes found almost outrageous.
So, for example, when he got her into the little room, with its queen-sized bed and its high-backed chair, he said, "Actually, some of the guys bring their wives here to spank them, too."
"They say it feels more like a punishment if a girl has to come to the office to get it. And then of course they always do their best to keep the birth-rate up, afterwards."
"Men," Kayla said.
"You just earned a spanking yourself, I think," Fergus said.