“Yes.”
“Well, he’s correct that Imperial doctors are telepathic; it’s one of the skills required to be a doctor in the Empire. But we don’t go around listening to everyone’s thoughts all the time. That would be exhausting.”
Content he isn’t going to make me into a compliant companion, at least not right now, I ask, “What do you need to do to fix these irregularities?”
The doctor shows me a pen-like device. “You won’t feel or notice anything, but your immune system will be all the better for it. I would also like to make you more immune to the colder temperatures which will help you acclimate to life in the galaxy. The Celestial Spire’s ambient temperature is only 16 degrees Celsius, for example. You won’t feel any differently; you just won’t feel cold as easily.”
I do the math in my head, sixteen degrees Celsius is about sixty degrees Fahrenheit. “Yes, please do that and fix my RNA and add the other vaccines. I don't want to die from some alien plague.”
The doctor turns on the device, and its tip begins to glow. Then, with rainbow light, he passes it over my skin. It doesn't hurt, but it feels tingly, like my blood is changing under my skin. Although, that could just be all in my head, I have a very overactive imagination.
“I saw two human women with collars earlier,” I say, trying to think about something else and not my blood boiling. “Are they slaves?”
The doctor's hand pauses mid-scan. “Another unexpected question. You’re full of surprises, Madame Eve.”
“The humans with the collars, they looked like...” I struggle for words. “Like sex slaves.”
He sighs, resuming his work. “The Empire's relationship with humans is complex. It goes back centuries.”
“That's not an answer.”
His eyes meet mine. “Some humans serve as companions to Imperials. It's considered a privileged position.”
“But they had collars.”
“The arrangement is more nuanced than your Earth terminology suggests.”
“Are they free to leave? To return to Earth?”
I notice that his assistant shifts uncomfortably as the doctor answers my question. “That would depend on their specific arrangement. Many are quite content. I should know. I’m the doctor aboard this vessel, and I’m responsible for everyone’s well-being, including the officers’ companions.”
“They said they were born in breeding facilities. How is that possible? I thought humans only lived on Earth.”
The doctor sets down his scanner, his expression becoming more serious. “You're asking about my former specialty. I spent forty years working in reproductive medicine at Imperial facilities that included human breeding programs.”
I’m repulsed, but I can't stop myself from asking, “What did you do there?”
“I ensured healthy offspring from human breeding pairs.” His tone is matter-of-fact. “It's fascinating work, really. Humans have such unique reproductive patterns compared to other species. But they’re the most similar to Imperial ones.”
“Breeding pairs?”
“Carefully selected genetic matches. We'd monitor the female's cycle, then when ovulation peaked, we'd introduce the breeding pair in controlled environments designed to encourage natural mating behaviors.”
“You watched them?”
“Of course. Medical supervision was essential. The males’ arousal levels had to be maintained through neural collar stimulation, ensuring optimal sperm production and multiple breeding attempts during the fertile window.” He speaks with the detached enthusiasm of someone discussing a particularly interesting research project. “They wore collars that could trigger physiological responses on command. Increased libido, enhanced stamina, and heightened sensitivity. Quite effective.”
“That's...” I can't finish the sentence.
“Scientifically elegant,” he continues. “We fitted every human with chastity devices so that nothing was left to chance. The women were brought to climax four times each week, their orgasms scheduled, measured, and logged. I was a favorite among them,” he says with quiet pride. “When I entered their living quarters, they would crowd around me, fighting to be the first, desperate for their devices to be released and for my ministrations. I knew how to give them satisfying orgasms that were just at the right level to keep them still hungry for real human men.”
His voice remains calm, as if lecturing, while the details grow more grotesque. “The males required different refinements. Weeks of preparation, specialized diets, strict exercise, hormonal optimization, and sexual training. By the time of introduction, they were practically driven to mate. Although sometimes the most difficult lesson with human males was teaching them the correct way to have sex. Their instincts were crude and impatient. Sometimes leashes were required to hold them in place while they performed cunnilingus properly. In other cases, we removed their teeth entirely and set the women astride their faces until they learned efficiency. The procedure was rigorous, but the results were undeniable.”
Unwanted images flood my mind, and I'm horrified to realize that beneath my revulsion, something else is stirring in me. Something dark, like a fantasy.
“They were forced to have sex while you watched?” I ask.
“Not forced, encouraged. And as you well know, humans need only a little encouragement to mate. But, of course, we also used neural conditioning to make them want it so badly they actually thought they might die if they didn’t fornicate. And it’s much more humane than artificial insemination, don't you think? So, the subjects experienced genuine pleasure, even if that pleasure was artificially induced. But pleasure is pleasure, isn’t it?”
