Her Shameful Service – Galactic Discipline Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)

Now that she has come of age, nineteen-year-old Chalondra has caught the eye of the company tasked with requisitioning Kamnian girls like her for use as concubines by wealthy Vionians. But it isn't just her beauty that will ensure she fetches a handsome price when she is sold at auction.Even with her cheeks blushing, her bottom sore, and her body's wet, quivering surrender on shameful display, her eyes burn with defiance her new owner will very much enjoy mastering.Claiming her will be worth every penny, but making her beg for it first will be priceless.Publisher's Her Shameful Service is a stand-alone entry in the Galactic Discipline series. The books of the Galactic Discipline series can be read in any order. Her Shameful Service includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don't buy this book.

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The Vionians liked girls from my planet. Specifically, they liked to requisition us from our villages, prepare us for sexual service, and transport us to the concubine auctions on Vion Prime. There they liked to sell us at a fabulous price to the ruling class of the empire. That’s what the merchants liked about us, anyway.

What the ruling class liked about us was that Kamnian girls—girls like me—could, once purchased and conveyed home to their palaces, be subjected without legal consequence to whatever form of erotic depravity and brutal discipline they chose. At the time of the Magisterian Civil War, as my master taught me to call the conflict that I later learned the Magisterian Federation called the Vionian Revolt, several hundred Kamnian concubines served the Vionian nobility.

That changed, of course, in highly dramatic fashion, when the empire fell as a result of supporting the Federation rebels.

I had no idea, though, when the village chief’s men took me from my family home and brought me to the village house, that my fate would take me anywhere but Vion Prime. The imperials who ensured that Kamnos remained almost entirely primitive compensated—as they maintained, at any rate—for that oppression by providing all Kamnian children with a basic education until age nineteen. I had turned nineteen the previous day.

Even at my school-emancipation party, where I’d received the Certificate of Learning that meant I could, if I chose, seek employment offworld, I’d heard other girls whispering that I’d be requisitioned. They’d used that word, the Vionian merchants: requisitioned.

The Tri-System Mercantile Company, under imperial writ given governing authority over Kamnos’ star system, maintained my planet as a highly efficient farm for the production of owned concubines, after all. The Vionians liked Kamnian girls so much that Tri-System could afford to spend their resources generously on keeping my world in exactly the fashion they had found most conducive to raising nineteen-year-old girls whom they could simply take—requisition—from their villages for a nominal sum, with the purpose of auctioning them at a fabulous profit.

The moment the chief’s men informed me of my requisitioning, I became—the textbooks supplied by Tri-System laid it out very clearly—property. Not just property: I was a luxury good, which meant according to imperial law, that I had a highly protected status. To attempt to steal me from the company represented a capital offense. The Vionian ruling class took their pleasures, and their plans to continue enjoying them until the heat death of the universe, very, very seriously.

“Wait,” I said, to Elder Harta. “Can’t…”

The kindly middle-aged man, father of my friend Lopanda, shook his head, a look of compassion on his lightly-lined face. I could see that color had come into his cheeks, staining them a slightly pinkish hue. Elder Jusalon shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his eyes refusing to meet mine.

I could feel a much deeper blush suffusing my own cheeks: I knew my face must be almost scarlet, a color that showed up very vividly on my face, thanks to the sky-blue tint of my hair. I remembered my teacher in Vionian Culture class telling us, almost casually, that the Vionians prized complexions like mine because they showed our blushes better.

Second daughter, with looks admired by everyone in my village, I had known that the girls at my school-emancipation party had only spoken the truth: I had come into the world with requisition almost stamped upon my forehead. Tri-System didn’t take eldest children; they could afford to wait, because they had outlawed contraception on Kamnos, just as they had introduced the modification to our DNA that over ten generations had turned our hair a sort of blue they said a dye could never rival.

It made Kamnian concubines exotic. It also made it nearly impossible for us to escape.

I hung my head, looking at the red, iron-rich Kamnian dirt beneath my bare feet. I cursed inwardly, wondering what had possessed me to come outside to weed the front garden. A desperate thought rose in my mind of turning and trying to run into the house, begging my mother to call my father in from the fields to protect me from the elders.

Insanity. The Tri-System Mercantile Company didn’t like to show its capacity for violence and destruction very often, but no village elder, let alone a village chief, would want to give them the chance—not for the sake of a young woman who should have expected to be requisitioned anyway. My parents loved me, but they had known it too: in fact, they had favored me over my older sister Mathaea in many ways, and she had borne it—with the unspoken truth hanging over me from the moment I first learned of what it meant to be born a Kamnian, that when I came of age the company would take me from my homeworld and sell me on Vion Prime. If I made a scene, it would simply tear my parents’ hearts out. It wouldn’t save me: it would only get my village and my family in trouble.