Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with the weight of history being made. I watched, still trembling, as Alpha and the general finalized the terms of surrender. The Magisterian Federation would oversee the transition of power, ensuring that the people of Vion were given the chance to build a new, more just society.
As the transmission ended and the viewscreen went dark, I felt a strange emptiness settle over me. I was free, it seemed, though it also seemed that I technically belonged to Captain Alpha, just as Sala did. I bit my lip, thinking about it, my eyes going to his handsome, exotic blue face. Was I free? What did it all mean?
Alpha rose from his command chair, his massive form towering over everyone on the bridge. The crew snapped to attention, their eyes fixed on their captain with what seemed to me a mixture of awe and reverence. The air seemed to crackle with energy, the momentous nature of what had just transpired palpable in every breath.
“At ease.” Alpha’s deep voice resonated through the space, somehow both gentle and commanding. “I want to thank each and every one of you for your service during this campaign. Your dedication, your skill, and your unwavering commitment to our cause have made this victory possible.”
His silver-violet eyes swept across the bridge, meeting the gaze of each crew member in turn. I watched, mesmerized, as hardened officers seemed to stand a little taller under their captain’s approving look.
“Today,” Alpha continued, “we have witnessed the fall of a tyrannical regime and the birth of a new era for the Vionian people. This victory belongs not just to us, but to every soul who has suffered under Imperial rule.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crew. I felt a lump form in my throat, overcome by the gravity of the moment and my own conflicted emotions.
“As is our tradition,” Alpha said, a note of anticipation entering his voice, “we will open our victory celebration in the time-honored Magisterian way.”
My heart began to race as I realized what he meant. Sala had told me of it, yes, and I had—despite my embarrassment—longed to see it, but until this moment I had scarcely believed it could be true. Yet now, as I watched Alpha’s massive hands begin to unfasten his uniform, I knew it was no mere tale.
“I will possess my senior wife,” Alpha announced, his voice dropping to a low, sensual rumble that sent shivers down my spine, “here, before you all, as a symbol of our triumph and the rewards that await us.”
The crew’s reaction surprised me. There were no shocked gasps, no scandalized looks. Instead, I saw anticipation, even excitement, on many faces. Some of the naked concubines present on the bridge moved closer, their eyes gleaming with desire.
To my utter amazement, Sala gracefully sank to her knees before Alpha. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her beautiful face as she looked up at her husband with adoration and submission in her blue eyes.
“My lord,” Sala said, her voice clear and steady despite the intimacy of the moment. “Before you claim me, I must confess something.”
Alpha’s eyebrow arched, curiosity mingling with desire on his striking features. “Speak, my love,” he commanded gently.
Sala took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “I… I seduced Tessara, my lord. In our quarters, while you were busy with the final stages of the battle. I pleasured her with my mouth and made her pleasure me in return.”
I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and arousal, the two emotions impossibly intertwined, as Sala’s words rang out.
“I beg you to punish me for my lewd misbehavior before you take me, my lord,” Sala continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I know I’ve displeased you by touching another without your permission.”
Alpha’s expression was unreadable as he gazed down at his kneeling wife. The silence on the bridge was deafening, every eye fixed on the scene unfolding before them. I felt my heart racing, torn between guilt for my role in Sala’s transgression and a shameful excitement at what might come next.
“Very well,” Alpha said at last, his deep voice resonating through the room. “You know the consequences of disobeying me, Sala.” He turned to his first officer, a tall, lean man standing nearby. “Mero, bring me the naval cat.”
As Mero hurried to comply, Alpha’s gaze found mine. “Tessara,” he said gently, “come here.”
On shaky legs, I approached, acutely aware of my nakedness and the eyes of the entire bridge crew upon me. Alpha’s massive blue hand came to rest on my shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“The naval cat,” he explained, his silver-violet eyes holding mine, “is the traditional disciplinary implement of the Magisterian starfleet. Its design was taken from the navies of old Earth, refined over centuries to serve its purpose effectively.”