Chapter 29 Ghost Mode, Eve
GHOST MODE, EVE
As I put on my clothing, I feel like my body belongs to someone else and I’m just watching.
I’m completely numb, mind, body, and soul.
And I’m physically raw from the paddle and from orgasmic denial.
I would give anything for release, and it’s the only thing I can think about, like an unbearable migraine headache, but located between my thighs.
The words: the Watching, shimmer across my room’s display as the door seals shut behind me. This is the Spire’s night, when rules soften, robes fall, and no one pretends to be civilized.
I press my back against the door, sliding down until I’m crouched on the floor.
My thighs are still wet, and my fingers ache to finish what Lorian allowed me to start in the shrine.
I was right to think my training with Lorian would be worse than with Rafe.
With Rafe, I never believed I could come, but with Lorian, I believed him.
I thought, just for a minute, that he would let me have an orgasm.
It just goes to show hope is the cruelest thing of all.
My computer awakens, and the walls pulse faintly with silver script.
“Welcome back, Eve. It is the Fourth Chime. Would you like a relaxation protocol initiated?”
“No.”
“Would you like a companion simulation?”
I freeze. “What?”
The console brightens, displaying the soft outline of a figure against my bed.
“Staff of your rank are entitled to holographic bed companions when they have reached high arousal levels. Your levels are extremely high. Release with a holographic bed companion will stabilize your neural stress and fulfill unmet biological drives.”
Is the machine glitching? “I can’t. I’m still wearing the chastity belt.”
“Correction,” the computer says. “The Venus Lock is configured for partial release. Sovereign Lorian enabled companion protocols. Would you like to select a holographic companion?”
I stagger closer to the bed; my heart is pounding in my ears. Lorian. He did this on purpose. He left the lock open to see what I would do.
The console responds to my proximity, “Companion protocol enabled. Please select a scenario.”
Just because I’m scrolling through the options doesn’t mean I’m going to choose one. Reima Two: Breast Worship. Imperial Male: Romance Subroutine. Lyric Replay. I don’t even want to think about how or why that is there.
Then I see it buried like a secret.
No image. No preview. Just the name.
My hand shakes as I reach out. Lorian’s mocking voice still burns in my ears. Only through sin can we see ourselves clearly.
Maybe he released me because he wants to watch me sin. And forgive me, God, if you exist, I want to sin so badly.
I look around my room. It’s dead quiet as it always is, but I know one of the Sovereigns, if not both of them, is watching me right now. Wondering what I am going to do.
The Venus Lock pulses again against my clit, and I make my choice.
I tap on the program.
The room changes instantly. The air thickens, and the lights drop to black gold.
Shadows stretch at the edge of the bed. Five tall, faceless figures move toward me, their grey bodies broad, hard, and inhumanly perfect.
Their voices are male, but without names.
Their cocks are enormous, erect, and ridged across the top.
“Strip, human,” one commands.
My hands obey before my mind can stop them.
I slide the tunic off my shoulders, revealing the obscene bra and skimpy underwear Rafe had delivered to my door—bare cups that do nothing to cover me, only frame my nipples so they jut out proudly.
I’m naked except for my bra, underwear, and the Venus Lock, its faint pulse against my pubic bone reminding me of who owns my body.
The holographic shadows close in, faceless heads tilting as they take in the view.
“Look at her,” one growls. “Sovereign Rafe dressed her like a whore. A bra that shows her nipples and underwear so thin it’s already dripping through.”
Another hologram circles behind me. Fingers tug the straps from my shoulders, then loop them tight around my wrists. “It’s fitting though. The whore will be bound by the clothes her master chose for her. Tell me, human, do you feel owned yet?”
I gasp as my arms are yanked behind my back and my bra is pulled down to be used to tie my wrists. Then, my sodden underwear is aggressively stripped down my thighs in one rough pull, and another shadow lifts the scrap of fabric to my face, smearing it across my lips.
“Open up,” he orders.
I obey, letting my body respond. This isn’t about reality or emotions. This is only about primal physical gratification. None of this is real. But the real taste of myself floods my tongue as a hologram stuffs the soaked fabric of my underwear into my mouth.
“She’s gagged on her own filth,” one laughs. “Exactly where she belongs.”
Hands spread me wide, and another voice rasps low against my ear. “You thought the Venus Lock would protect you? Not in Ghost Mode. It won’t stop our holographic cocks from stretching your wet cunt until you forget your own name.”
The hum of the Venus Lock changes. It’s no longer a restraint but an eager vibration syncing with their words, and I remember what the doctor said about it conforming to my neural pathways.
If Lorian wanted to see me sin, well, here it is.
This is it. He didn’t plant this fantasy in my mind; I did.
But knowing he and his brother are watching almost makes this even more erotic.
And my body arches, aching for the invasion promised by these faceless shadows.
Another steps hologram forward. His voice is low and sharp. “On your knees, human.”
I sink. Slowly.
“Spread your thighs. Low. Lower.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me down so I can feel my pubic lips touching the floor. “Good girl.”
The praise hits me harder than it should, and I realize it’s been pulled from my mind. Neither Lorian nor Rafe would ever call me that.
“She likes that. The whore likes to be called a good girl.”
I close my eyes. I didn’t think I could become an wetter, but my body responds to their taunting like a flower opening to take in the morning rain.
Another walks behind me. “Look at her.” His voice is amused. “Already dripping with want. She’s going to make a puddle on the floor; she wants to be fucked so badly.”
A third crouches in front of me and lifts my chin with one finger. “You want to be owned and fucked. Don’t you dare deny it. All humans want to be owned. And humans want to be fucked all the time, by anyone.”
I shake my head.
But he just laughs. “Liar.”
The hologram behind me leans in closer.
“I bet you fantasize about getting passed around like the office pet. Bent over the reception desk while Sovereign Lorian watches and Sovereign Rafe calculates your orgasm thresholds.”
I flinch. They know too much. And then I realize that, of course, they know.
Why wouldn’t they? This hotel knows everything about me: the Venus Lock, the medical reports, the doctor’s notes.
My shame, my secrets, every arousal logged and archived.
The Spire and its computers have turned me inside out, and now even the shadows in my bed whisper my darkest fantasies back to me as humiliations.
“You want to be touched, groped, punished, and used,” says another hologram, stepping forward. “But not just by your Reima Two Sovereigns. You want this from strangers. It’s something you’ve always fantasized about. Just fucking random faceless men to meet your physical needs.”
Large fingers stroke my thighs and my pubic hair, pulling on the ends, which makes me moan. “She’s fucking soaked. Pathetic,” the voice says. “Your cunt begged before you did.”
Two of the faceless holograms lift me up off the floor and then push me forward on the bed so I’m face down, legs spread wide, ass up in the air, underwear in my mouth and hands tied behind my back.
Another shadow leans down, his faceless mouth at my ear, taunting me. “My cock is just as big as Sovereign Rafe’s. It’s going to stretch your human pussy to your absolute limit. But according to the doctor on the Igo…” his laugh is low and knowing, “…you’re going to fucking love that. Literally.”
I realize that the computer is pulling their conversation either from what I’ve said before or from my thoughts themselves. And I’m momentarily pulled out of the hot scene by the hologram saying, “literally.”
But as soon as his gigantic cock—not real, not organic, but solid and hot—rubs aggressively against my wanting pussy, I can’t even remember what I was just thinking about. Jesus. Yes. Enter me, I think. I want to sin for you, Lorian.
Then the holograph thrusts in. Hard and angry, like I’ve done something to him.
“That’s it. Take it. She’s so much tighter than expected.
Look at that small fucking pussy. I’m not even all the way in.
Open wider, that’s it. Keep going.” I feel him push even further into me, breaking me open with his holographic penis.
“Goddesses, you are so tight. An unused human. It’s rare in the galaxy. ”
Another grabs my hair and forces my head up. “Open your sweet little mouth for this alien cock.”
I do.
He removes my underwear and replaces it with his large, ridged cock, shoving it in deep and hard.
I feel it hit the back of my throat, choking me.
Tears stream down my face. “That’s what this little mouth is for,” he grunts.
“Not for talking. Just for filling. Look up at me with those big brown eyes. That’s it.
” He continues to mouth-fuck me as the other man fucks me from behind to a different rhythm, and I love every second of it.
The hologram behind me slaps my ass hard enough to sting. “Move your hips. That’s it. Show me how much your human pussy wants to be fucked to orgasm.”
“It’s adorable,” another says. “That she thinks she selected our program. Not like we weren’t waiting for her. Humans always choose this option.”
The one in my mouth pulls back and slaps me across the face with his penis. “Say thank you for this alien cock.”
I say hoarsely, “Thank you.”
“Again.”
“Thank you for your alien cock.”
They flip me. Hands and fingers are everywhere, stretching me open, pinching my nipples, and slapping my breasts.
Another one slides into my pussy, and my breasts sway back and forth with his thrusts.
The shadow in front of me slams harder, his cock tearing me open until my whole body is on the edge of orgasm. Then he stops, and my underwear is stuffed back into my mouth, and it muffles my pleas not to stop.
This is it.
Finally, I am going to come.
I clench my body, anxious for the release. Crying for the release that has been denied to me by the Sovereigns.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Now!
“Yes,” one of the faceless men snarls in my ear. “You want to come, you little sinner, but you can’t; you don’t have permission from your masters, Sovereign Rafe or Shadow Sovereign Lorian. You have been denied.”
And then they’re all gone, all the grey holographic men and their big dicks have vanished, and I’m alone in my room.
I am utterly devastated.
For a moment, I don’t feel anything at all.
I collapse forward onto the bed with my wrists still bound behind me, my chest is heaving, and the gag is still wet and foul in my mouth, but my mind drifts off somewhere safer, somewhere numb. I catalogue the room. The walls. The silence.
I understand now why they call it Ghost Mode. Because this is what’s left of me
I sob bitterly against the sheets in frustration. Then a thought twists through me like a knife. Lorian wanted this. He gave me access to the bed companion because he wanted to see me sin, but by doing so, and then denying me an orgasm, he’s still punishing me on a scale much worse than Rafe’s.
I wiggle my wrists out of my bra straps and then take my underwear out of my mouth. I’m about to take a cold shower and find the Hallo root when my computer notifies me that I have a message from Sovereign Lorian.
I saw you sin, and I heard every syllable and every moan. You betrayed our trust and begged the holograms like a human pet. Tomorrow you’ll beg for us instead.
The words burn into me, and I bury my face in the sheets, wishing this was a nightmare I could wake up from. How long will they keep me in orgasmic agony?