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The Alien's Wayward Girl

Page 12

by Emily Tilton

The confession pushed me over the edge. My climax hit hard, making my whole body arch off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through me. I heard Brequa cry out softly, then Mabola, all three of us coming together in the darkness.

As the pleasure faded, I felt something shift inside me. The shame was still there, but it was mixed now with something else. Not acceptance: definitely not that. But maybe acknowledgment. I couldn’t keep denying what my body wanted, what some deep part of me craved. I would deal with it without serving any Magisterian, but it didn’t help to deny it.

I pulled my blankets back up, suddenly cold and exposed. Beside me, Mabola and Brequa did the same. For a long moment, none of us spoke.

“Do you think they’ll really contact us?” Brequa finally whispered.

“I don’t know,” Mabola answered. “But I hope so.”

I said nothing. Because the truth was, despite everything I believed, despite everything Ms. Opalin had taught me, despite all my resistance and my principles…

Part of me hoped so too.

The thought terrified me as I drifted toward sleep, my body finally satisfied, but my mind more confused than ever. What did it mean that I wanted this? What did it mean that I had touched myself while thinking about submission and discipline and being owned?

Tomorrow I would go see Ms. Opalin. Tomorrow I would try to make sense of all this. But tonight, I let myself sink into dreams filled with strong blue hands and commanding voices and the sting of correction across a naughty bottom, offered obediently to the man who owned it.