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)
I squeezed my eyes shut, torn between embarrassment and a strange desire to share my experience. The constant presence of the plug made it impossible to forget, impossible to pretend that this wasn’t happening. Every breath, every tiny movement of my body reminded me of its intrusion.
“Tessara?” Lydia’s voice came again, more insistent this time. “Please? I’m desperate to know. Dr. and Mrs. Porter never tell us anything about… well, about what married life is really like. And it seems like… well, like you’ve seen so much more of the world—of the universe, even!”
I could hear the rustle of sheets as Lydia leaned closer, her eagerness almost palpable in the dark room. Elara’s soft, “Oh, Lydia, please stop it,” did nothing to deter her friend’s curiosity.
The plug seemed to pulse inside me, telling of the training I was undergoing for Gamma. I found myself wanting to tell them, to share this strange new experience. But the newfound shame and propriety my Prosperian clothes had somehow imparted to me held me back. What would proper Prosperian girls think of me if they knew the truth?
“It’s… it’s hard to describe,” I finally whispered, my voice barely audible even in the quiet room. I paused, struggling to find the right words. “It feels… full. And strange. Like… like I’m being stretched from the inside.”
I heard Lydia take a sharp breath, and Elara let out a muffled gasp. The room seemed to grow warmer, charged with a curious energy.
“Does it hurt?” Lydia asked, her voice hushed and eager.
I considered for a moment. “Not exactly,” I replied slowly. “It’s uncomfortable, but… not painful. Just… intense. I can feel it with every movement, every breath.”
As if to emphasize my point, I shifted slightly, causing the plug to press against sensitive inner tissues. A small whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“Oh,” Lydia breathed, sounding both fascinated and slightly scandalized. “And… and why does Mr. Gamma… why…”
“Lydia,” Elara hissed, “it’s fine if you want to get yourself whipped, but it’s not fair to get Tessara and me whipped too!”
Lydia’s voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. “They can’t hear us,” she insisted. “Please, Tessara. Won’t you tell us about… about it?”
The way Lydia emphasized her last word made my breath catch. I realized with sudden clarity that she must be talking about sex. The innocence in her voice, the desperate curiosity—it struck me then just how sheltered these Prosperian girls truly were.
For the first time, I understood how deeply Prosperian culture prized the innocence of young brides. These girls, on the cusp of womanhood, knew almost nothing of what awaited them in the marriage bed. The realization made me feel strangely old and worldly in comparison, despite my own youth.
As a former Vionian captive, I possessed knowledge that Lydia—and Elara too, I strongly suspected—clearly craved. My experiences aboard the Conqueror of Bresla, while often brutal and degrading, had given me an intimate understanding of sex that these proper Prosperian girls lacked entirely.
I felt an inextricable tangle of shame and pride at the realization. Part of me wanted to protect their innocence, to shield them from the harsh realities I had faced. But another part recognized their genuine curiosity and need to understand.
I felt the plug move inside me as I considered how to respond. The jolt of sensation seemed to go all the way through my body. I bit back a gasp, acutely aware of how my own arousal was building despite the lower setting of my governor. The physical reminder of my experiences, of my training for Gamma, made my decision for me.
“Alright,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. “What do you want to know?”
I heard Lydia’s sharp intake of breath, and even Elara’s quiet gasp of surprise. The air in the room seemed to grow thick with anticipation.
“Everything,” Lydia breathed, her voice filled with eager curiosity. “What… what exactly happens between a husband and wife? I mean, I know that husbands spank and whip their wives sometimes, when they’ve been naughty, but is there, you know, something else? I know men have… something… between their legs that gets hard. I’ve seen it bulge in their trousers when they’ve been waltzing with young ladies at balls. And I’m sure that has something to do with what husbands do to their wives. But beyond that, I just don’t know.”
I swallowed hard, searching for the right words. How could I explain the act of sex to these sheltered girls without frightening them? How could I convey the potential for both pleasure and pain?
“It’s called a cock,” I began softly, feeling my cheeks burn at using such a crude word. “Men have cocks, and they… they put them inside a woman’s body. In her cunny.” I paused, listening for their reactions. “Sometimes in her mouth and even… even in her bottom. Men call it fucking.”