Chapter 26 First Formal Lesson, Rafe #2
The Venus Lock’s pulse moves through her body, finding its target. Her breathing stutters but she maintains eye contact.
And I find I like watching her become aroused like this. I increase the intensity of the sexual arousal by a fraction and watch her jaw tighten. “Tell me, does your mind still feel superior even when your body betrays it?”
She opens her mouth, but no words come out, just a half-moan of pleasure.
I end the pulse. “Good. Now that we understand each other, we can begin. The goal is mastery of mind and body. You think you’re complex, Eve Eden? Then prove it.”
She nods, readjusting her legs by crossing them tightly, and then tries to steady her breathing.
Watching her, I realize, as I ready the first question, that I want her to try to prove me wrong so I can be the one to teach her why she isn’t more than a sex-obsessed human.
“These are the IGC statutes regarding non-citizen species,” I explain. “Fluency is essential. Not memorization—interpretation. The IGC doesn’t care if you can recite; they care if you can argue.”
She leans forward, and I can see the faint pulse of her translator’s quantum interface appear on my display.
The neural lattice is syncing to her cortical rhythms—an elegant Imperial design originally created for high-born education.
The device doesn’t just translate; it restructures cognition, forcing the mind to recognize patterns it would otherwise miss.
In humans, the results are extraordinary.
In humans like Eve, I expect an intellectual revolution.
I watch her readings spike as the text begins to rewrite itself across the projection. “Article Seven, Section Fourteen,” I prompt.
“Humans are classified as a Level Three species, lacking interstellar sovereignty. But there’s a clause permitting limited exceptions under voluntary contract law.”
“Acceptable,” I say. “Now interpret it.”
“That a contract can make a human both a person and property, depending on the jurisdiction.”
Faster than Denise. Faster even than Yasmin. The translator amplifies her intellect by enhancing the brain’s retention centers, but the rest is hers—raw cognition.
“You learn quickly,” I tell her. “The translator doesn’t only convert languages, it boosts synaptic efficiency; logic, comprehension, memory.
In Reima Two citizens, the effect is mild.
In humans, it’s amplified tenfold. Your neural architecture is primitive, yes, but remarkably plastic.
It adapts and the more you push yourself to learn the faster you will become. ”
I shift the hologram to the next dataset: trade rulings, archived verdicts, case law cross-referenced by planetary systems. “You’ll have full access to the Intergalactic Court archives. Review them nightly. Every inconsistency you find is leverage when you speak for us.”
She hesitates. “Sovereign, you want me to be a lawyer?”
“A weapon,” I correct. “Beautiful enough to be noticed, but intelligent enough to be feared.”
While she studies the next passage, I tap the control band on my IC.
The Venus Lock’s telemetry feeds into the same console as the translator, the two systems interfacing seamlessly.
A deliberate design. Mental progress and physiological compliance are interlinked: each time her comprehension deepens, the Venus Lock will deliver a subtle pulse of reward whether she is with me or not.
However, I will make the pleasure greater and more noticeable when we are together to make the stakes higher.
I watch as Eve’s pupils dilate slightly as the stimulation to her clit registers. The pleasure is faint but immediate—a Pavlovian echo across the neural circuit. She probably doesn’t realize yet that her intellect and her desire are being conditioned to rise in tandem.
“You’re behaving as expected,” I say. “I don’t expect too many incorrect answers, but if there are any, they will result in denial of pleasure and physical discipline.”
“Physical discipline, Sovereign?”
“Nothing too severe. My methods are mild compared to my brother’s. Lorian believes everyone learns faster through pain.”
Her vitals spike—fear and arousal intertwined.
Interesting.
“Let’s continue. What are the two categories of humans in galactic society?”
“Free humans and owned humans.”
“That’s correct.” I touch my IC, and she receives a targeted pulse to her clit. “Free humans live primarily on Earth. Owned humans serve as companions or entertainers, like those in our Championships. But recent IGC legislation changed what?”
“One law was passed stating humans are equal citizens in the galaxy, but seventeen other laws still classify humans as property.”
“Correct.” I issue another pulse to her clit. “Your body is responding correctly. Good.”
She swallows hard and grips the chair arms, and her knuckles go white as she crosses her legs.
“How many civilizations currently hold seats in the Intergalactic Court?”
“Four thousand seven hundred and thirty-two,” she says.
“Excellent.” I reward her. “Of those, how many seats does Reima Two hold?”
“Two,” she says, her voice is affected by the pulse on between her thighs.
“Exactly. And how many seats does the Empire hold?”
“Eight hundred and forty-seven.”
“Outstanding.” I increase the intensity by twenty percent this time and press my finger over the Venus Lock controls, issuing her more pleasure. “Of course, humanity holds no seats whatsoever. Why is that?”
Eve tries to hold back a moan but fails and then answers. “Human governments collectively refuse to join the IGC. Or so it is said, Sovereign.”
I frown and reverse the stimulus.
She makes another small noise that sounds like want.
“Hold out your left hand.” We hold eye contact for a second before she obeys. I take her small hand in mine, turn it over palm up, then smack it with my other hand.
She flinches at the impact.
“This is nothing compared to what my brother will do.”
Her brown eyes widen.
Perfect. I lean back, satisfied. “You see, Eve. This is how humans must be taught. And when you answer the questions correctly, it’s enjoyable for both of us.”
Her blush deepens, spreading down her throat, but she doesn’t deny it. And she can’t, I have the physical evidence on my IC to prove she’s enjoying herself.
“We are finished for today. Tomorrow you'll train with Shadow Sovereign Lorian. I suggest you rest well tonight. His methods are much more demanding than mine.”
She tries to stand, but her legs shake. The Venus Lock has left her wound tight, desperate for an orgasmic release that’s not going to happen for her today.
“Do you require assistance?” I’m curious to see if she’s going to beg.
“No, Sovereign,” she says, forcing herself to bow.
“Kneel,” I command her because I can’t just let her walk out without a lasting physical reminder of who owns her.
She drops, hands on her thighs, eyes up.
Oh, those human brown eyes looking up at me, begging me for release, to make her come. But not only will I not allow it, I will remind her who is in charge. I will remind her of what I can do because I hold the power.
“Unbutton your tunic to the waist. Hold it open.”
She obeys, and I anticipate seeing her naked breasts, but two black scraps of human fabric stare back at me.
“That is not part of your uniform. Why are you wearing that contraption?”
“My breasts are larger than Reima Two women’s, Sovereign. I need the support, or they will move too much when I walk.”
I don’t like it. I want to see her bare skin, not human engineering.
But I also don’t want anyone else to see her breasts bouncing as she walks, even if it’s under her uniform.
The thought of it makes me even more aroused, and then angry.
She already gets too much attention. “Pull the fabric down to expose your breasts to me.”
She opens her mouth in surprise and but the way her pupils dilate tells me she wants this too.
I watch with anticipation as Eve peels back the black fabric and props her plump breasts up, her pink nipples tight from orgasmic denial and the cool air.
Then she moves her hands back to her sides to hold her uniform open and looks up at me, again, expectantly.
I step close enough that she understands the consequence of obedience. “Remember this,” I say, and casually free my erect cock from my trousers and begin stroking myself. I am going to take my time with this, I don’t want to cheapen the moment by rushing. “Keep looking at me. That’s it.”
I keep my movements measured and controlled and I pump my fist over my cock. I hold eye contact her throughout. I want her to feel how unhurried I am.
“You will learn to understand your place in the hierarchy,” I tell her as she stares up at me.
“Yes, Sovereign.”
“Hold your uniform back. I want all of this to absorb into your skin. All over those breasts.”
She holds her uniform back even further and I groan low as I come, lacing hot semen back and forth across her breasts. The first rope catches the curve, but the rest I use to paint her nipples white.
A small sound of pleasure escapes her lips as I drag the tip of my cock around her breasts, spreading out the semen, and circling each nipple until it’s glossy.
She shudders but, otherwise, does not move.
“You exceeded my expectations today.”
“Thank you, Sovereign.”
“Training you like this isn’t easy,” I tell her, my voice rough. “But if this is what it takes to get you to perform as our perfect liaison, to be the best human you can be, then this is what we will do.”
She doesn’t answer me; her mouth is open in the shape of an “o.”
It’s so intoxicating, I have no doubt, I will remember her like this, on her knees, covered in my semen, brown eyes begging me, for the rest of my life.
“Pull your human contraption back up and button your tunic. Do not clean your breasts until tomorrow morning during your morning rituals. I want you to remember what you learned here today, and to think about it during the rest of your shift.”
Her small hands shake as she begins to dress herself.
Before she’s finished, I take the edge of her bra between two fingers and let it snap lightly.
“You will have this altered according to my protocol. You may wear it for function, but not to hide your breasts from me. I want those nipples exposed under your uniform, so when I tell you to unbutton your tunic, I don’t have to wait to see you. ”
“Yes, Sovereign.”
“If you follow my rules, you will be rewarded with orgasms. You want that, don’t you, Eve?”
“Yes, Sovereign.”
“Stand.”
She rises on unstable legs.
“You did well today.”
She bows and all I can think about are her breasts covered in my semen against her uniform.
“You are dismissed.”
I watch as the door seals behind her, then, I double-check her physical stats on my IC, just to make sure I was not imagining her desire for me. Her numbers slide across my display—continuous high arousal, and as for her cognitive retention, it is much higher than expected it to be.
Impressive.
The promise of an orgasm does actually work with humans. It’s irritating when my father is right.