“Yes,” Brequa breathed. “I didn’t think… I mean, I’d read about them, and… you know… the pictures in the lesson book, but seeing it…”
“I think Jendra is touching herself too,” Mabola said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
A whimper escaped my throat before I could stop it. Shame flooded through me, but my hand didn’t move away. If anything, my fingers pressed harder.
“Shh, don’t wake the others,” Brequa whispered. “But… maybe we could all… I mean, why should we hide it? Let’s pull down our covers. Let’s all play with our pussies together.”
Part of me thought I should say no—that I should tell them this was inappropriate, that we were betraying everything Hippolyta stood for.
But we weren’t, were we? Hippolytan women learned that their bodies belonged to them—that they could do as they pleased with their pussies. Right now, that meant three girls masturbating together. I pushed my blankets down to my waist, then lower, exposing myself in the dim light of the dormitory.
I heard rustling as Mabola and Brequa did the same. In the faint glow from the window, I could just make out their shapes—Mabola on my right, her hand moving between her legs with precise little touches. Brequa on my left, her movements more frantic, more desperate.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Brequa said softly. “The way he spanked her. The way her bottom got so red.”
“The way she took him in her mouth,” Mabola added, her voice breathy now. “So much of it, even though it was so big.”
My fingers circled faster. I pulled my panties down further, giving myself better access, and slipped two fingers inside myself while my thumb worked my clitoris. I pressed against the place I knew to call my hymen, though I also knew a much older word:maidenhead. The little covering through which a man might thrust his penis someday, if I let him. A shiver went through my whole body.
“I hope they choose me,” Brequa whispered. “I know I’m not supposed to say that, but I do. I want to serve a Magisterian man. I want to know what it feels like.”
“Me too,” Mabola admitted. “I’ve been fighting it all year, pretending I was just studying them objectively. But today… watching Sala get… you know…fucked… I want that. I want to be owned like that.”
“I don’t,” I heard myself say in a hoarse voice, even as my hips lifted off the bed, seeking more friction. “I don’t want to be chosen.”
“But you can’t stop thinking about it either,” Mabola said. “Can you, Jendra?”
I let out a shaky breath. “No. I can’t stop thinking about being… about being…”
I didn’t want to say it, but I also wanted to… so bad…
“Say it,” Brequa said. “It… feels… so…”
So dirty, but also so…
I whispered it, somehow pretending that it was another young woman who uttered the word.
“I want to befucked.”
The word felt foreign and thrilling on my tongue. Vulgar. Wrong. Perfect.
“By a man like Alpha,” Brequa moaned. “With a cock that huge.”
“Stretching you open,” Mabola added. “Using you.”
“Spanking you first,” I whispered, shocked by my own words. “Making… my… I meanher… her bottom so red and sore before he fucks you.”
My fingers moved faster, plunging in and out while my thumb pressed hard circles against my clitoris. I could hear Mabola and Brequa doing the same, could hear the wet sounds of all three of us pleasuring ourselves together in the darkness.
“What if… if he shaved me,” Brequa gasped. “Like… like Sala was. He… he would see… everything. He would… take off my panties… inspect me, and tell… oh… tell me he wanted to put his penis inside me to make it feel good.”
“Oh… I… what if he… you know… what if he told me to kneel,” Mabola said. “I… he would make me… oh… oh, no… please… I’dhave to put my mouth on him and feel him get hard because of me.”
“What if…” I started, then stopped, the words too shameful even now.
“Tell us,” Brequa urged.
“What if he… he put it in… in her bottom,” I said in a rush, pretending I was just speculating about another woman. “Like he did to Sala. What does it feel like… to… to… to be… oh, gods…disciplinedthat way?”
