The young man steps close, his fingers skillfully unbuttoning my shirt. Then he pushes my bra down, baring my breasts. His fingers pinch my nipples hard, forcing them to stand tall. Then he slides two silver thimbles over the peaks, and I feel the sting of cold metal clamping down on them.
A moment later, electric pulses shot through both nipples, making me arch my back against the restraints like a cat. A cry escapes me before I can bite it back. “Oh God! Yes!”
“Good,” the doctor says. “The sensors are online.”
Another strong pulse fires, this one longer, and I jerk again, a low moan firing out of my throat. My nipples feel swollen inside the thimbles, and the sensations are painfully sumptuous.
“Your nipple response is strong.”
I barely register his words. My body is only pleasure. Nothing else matters.
“Now, orgasm in your own time, Eve.”
I should hate this. I should feel violated. But I don't.This is science.
When my orgasm finally comes, it rips through me without warning, mercy, or shame. My body seizes, every nerve screaming so violently I think I might have a heart attack or my lungs might stop taking in air. My half-naked body bucks against the bed, and I see midnight black and stars through my eyelids. I feel like my soul has left my body and then been slammed back in, raw and shaking. I now know why they call it a reset.
“Excellent,” the doctor says and pats the wet hair between my legs. “The neurofluid has dispersed properly into your vaginal canal. You will feel lighter now. Restored.”
The stimulator goes silent.
I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. I just lie on the bed naked and relaxed, staring at the ceiling.I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.
“You responded very well.” Then, the doctor instructs his assistant to undo the restraints and dress me.
I let the young man’s fingers wrap me back up in my clothing while the aftershocks of the orgasm are still running through my muscles with tiny spasms.
“Is this something you offer to all women onboard?” I ask when I finally find my voice again.
“Only when it’s appropriate. Most species express stress through aggression. Humans, particularly human females, tend toward internal dysfunction. We treat what the body needs,” he says as his assistant packs up their pastel equipment.
With a respectful nod, he turns toward the door. Just before it opens, he adds, without looking back, “If you ever need regulation again, you may request it.”
Then the door closes behind him and his assistant.
I don’t know how to feel.Physically, I feel like a puzzle piece has just been clicked back into place and has put everything back into alignment like I’ve never felt before. But, my mind and body are still in disagreement as to whether or not thatnaturalremedy was truly beneficial. It feels like it should be a sin. I’m sure any man-made religion on Earth would see it as a sin. But, what frightens me most isn’t what he did; it’s how quickly my body cooperated.
The few times I have had sex, my experiences were not very pleasurable. The men I was with either didn’t care about my pleasure or didn’t know how to pleasure me. Or possibly a combination of both. But now, after seeing the Imperial doctor, I know what my romance novels have been talking about when they describe real orgasms. I’m shocked that first, they aren’t a myth, and second, that I, Eve Eden, can experience them. But also disappointed because now that I know, how can I ever accept anything less?
As I think about what just happened with the doctor more, I realize that it’s not the mind-blowing orgasm I didn’t know I could have, thetechnology, or the alien doctor that’s really bothering me. It’s what this means for me.How will I function in an alien society that doesn’t question how pleasure comes, just as long as it does come?(Pun intended.)
And if I’m not on Earth, does sin still exist? In theBible,there is no mention of aliens or other planets, so I assume that means any sins I commit off Earth don’t count.
So if I can have an alien doctor “reset” me,naturally, without any negative societal implications, why should I restrict my health because of what human men have said about sin on Earth?
7
THE CALCULATING TWIN, RAFE
I exhale slowly,refusing to let my irritation unravel my carefully maintained composure. My gaze meets all of my hotel managers’ eyes around the table.
“Train. Your. Staff.” I slice each word with deliberate precision. “Ensure every guest and their cargo undergo thorough checks when they set foot in any of our hotels. These Intergalactic Court fines could have been avoided if you all had done your jobs properly.”
The tap of my fingers on the tabletop echoes with a metallic resonance, fueling the tension in the room. I can practically smell their fear. They look like Imperial crabs caught in a plasma net, paralyzed by the mere suggestion that they confront a smuggler head-on.
“Sovereign,” says the general manager of Huntress One, “the Dulu pirates had top-of-the-line cloaking technology that bypassed our scans. But?—”
I cut him off. “Then you should have used your good Imperial eyes that the goddesses gave you to inspect the cargo yourself. All of you need to do better.”
