Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
After we rinse off, Mina demands that I sit down on a bench and she rubs a dry towel all over me, then dries my mane as much as possible by hard-rubbing that same towel through the strands. Once that's done, she picks through the counters, looking for grooming implements, a towel wrapped around her nudity. She finds a comb and works the snarls out of my mane, talking all the while about showers back on Earth. People on Earth like all kinds of scented shampoos and body washes, she says as she combs my mane. I'd probably hate them, but she misses opening a bottle and smelling all kinds of fake fruity things. That was one of her strongest memories of home, she tells me. Here, the slaves aren't allowed to bathe often, and when they do, everything is unscented because alien noses can be sensitive.
As she works, she presses her smaller body against mine, her skin rubbing all over me, and it makes my cock stir again. I like when she's bossy like this. I like when she acts like she owns me. Like I'm hers to take care of. It makes me feel good inside.
Even so, it makes me wonder if I am not missing something. Who takes care of Mina? Who gives her pleasure? I wonder if I can. I think about what she did to me, but she does not have a penis. There's nothing there for me to stroke, just a little fold hidden under some of her body fur. I want to ask her, but I feel foolish. I should know this, shouldn't I?
It's another part of my memory that has been wiped, I guess. Still, I would like to pleasure her, if she'd let me.
Once Mina is done grooming me, I put on the pair of pants that were brought for me to wear, and she looks for something for herself. There's nothing for a female down here, though, and she drops the towel and wrings out her sodden shift. "I guess I'm wearing this back."
"I'm…sorry." It stinks of my come and it's wet, to boot. It can't be pleasant for her to wear.
Mina just shrugs and shimmies it on, the wet fabric sticking to her slight frame. The tips of her breasts are pebbled tight, curiously, and she plucks the fabric away from her skin as if trying to hide this. "Let's go. You look tired."
I put my hand on the back of her neck possessively as we move toward the door, because I know there are guards outside. I want them to realize that she's mine and I'll kill anyone that looks at her.
When we leave the shower room, though, Mina's smell changes and her posture stiffens. The clones waiting outside smirk in our direction, but say nothing, and I wonder if Mina is ashamed for touching me. She smells like my seed, and I wonder if she regrets what just happened. The guards think she was there to pleasure me…and she did.
There's no privacy in our situation, but I get the sense Mina is upset anyhow.
That makes me feel bad. I feel worse, too, because I do not regret it. I liked her touching me. I would choose it over and over again if given the choice to re-do that moment. I cannot even say that I am sorry, because I am not.
When we return to our cell, Mina busies herself with serving our food, and there is a fresh set of clothing for both of us. She snags her shift and takes it to the lavatory to change, and our old clothes are tossed into the food slot for another slave to launder. She's quiet through dinner, though she eats with a healthy appetite. When the lights go out as they always do, she makes a sound of annoyance and packs up our empty dishes, puts them in the tray slot, and then takes my hand. "Come on. Bedtime."
We climb into bed together and Mina arranges the blanket (and my limbs) to suit herself. When she's curled against me and comfortable, her hand goes to my chest and she toys with the fur between my pectorals.
"Sorry if I'm being weird," she whispers. "It's just…what we shared was a private moment between us. And then coming out and seeing the a'ani's faces, you know they're going to tell the scientist and Lord Sir right away. It feels like they're stealing it from us."
I touch her cheek, mindful of my claws. I want to cut them back down again, but they're a useful tool for when I have my first real fight, and I'm handicapping myself if I blunt them. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I just…hate that we're playing right into their little games, you know?" Her breath fans against my chest, her fingers twining in my chest fur. "All of this is designed so I turn into your little fuck-toy. The fact that they won't give us more than one blanket. The fact that they shoved me into the shower with you. They asked me if we were copulating before and I said no. I feel like we're playing into what they want, and it makes me angry."