Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
T essara
After Mrs. Porter had turned off the light and shut the door, silence fell in the dormitory. I had almost drifted off to sleep despite the strangeness of the plug in my bottom when Lydia whispered, “What does it feel like, Tessara?”
Lying on my side, keeping my hands clasped tightly in front of me to resist the urge to reach back and feel for the base of the plug nestled between my bottom cheeks, Lydia’s whispered question made me tense. The slight movement caused the plug to shift inside me, sending a jolt of awareness through my body. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp, my face burning hot in the darkness.
“Lydia!” Elara’s scandalized whisper cut through the quiet room. “You mustn’t ask such things. It’s not proper!”
But Lydia seemed undeterred. “Please, Tessara,” she pleaded softly, her voice filled with curiosity and a hint of something else—excitement, perhaps? “Won’t you tell us what it’s like? I’ve never… I mean, I can’t even imagine…”
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.”
Elara let out a tiny squeak of shock, quickly muffled by what I assumed was her hand over her mouth. But I could sense her fascination too.
“Do…” she whispered. “I mean, does… does a wife have to?”
Lydia answered her in a scoffing tone. “Of course she has to, Elara. He’s her husband. He gets to do whatever he wants with her.”
As I heard those words, I couldn’t help it: my mind drifted to Gamma. I remembered the first time I had seen him naked, his massive blue form towering over me. His cock had seemed impossibly large, far bigger than any of the Vionian officers who had used me. I recalled how it had felt when he entered me, stretching me almost to the point of pain but bringing indescribable pleasure.
I made no conscious decision to do it, but I found my hands had begun to drift down my body. One hand crept behind me, underneath my nightgown, fingers tentatively exploring the base of the plug nestled between my cheeks. The slight pressure moved it inside me, and I felt my brow furrow hard at the sensation. My other went between my thighs, brushing against the sensitive bud of my clit.
I bit my lip to stifle a moan as I began to touch myself gently. The lower setting of my governor dulled the sensations somewhat, and I felt the slight tingle as it curbed my arousal, but it didn’t entirely suppress the gently blooming warmth between my legs. As I caressed myself, I continued to whisper to Lydia and Elara, describing in halting words the act of sex.
“It can hurt at first,” I murmured, my fingers moving in slow circles. “But it can also feel… amazing. Like nothing else in the universe.”
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed movement from the other beds. The covers on both Lydia’s and Elara’s beds were shifting subtly, rhythmically. With a start, I realized they too were touching themselves, driven by curiosity and budding desire.
“Does it… does it feel good when Mr. Gamma does it to you?” Lydia’s breathless whisper carried across the room.
I nodded, forgetting for a moment that they couldn’t see me clearly in the dark. “Yes,” I breathed. “Oh, yes. His cock is so big, it fills me completely. And he’s so strong, but also… gentle.”
My fingers moved faster as I spoke, remembering how it felt to be beneath Gamma’s powerful body. The plug in my bottom seemed to pulse in time with my racing heart, adding to the building pleasure.
“What about… what about your bottom?” Elara’s timid voice surprised me. “Does he… does he… f-fuck you there too?”
The question made me press against the base of the plug involuntarily. “Not yet,” I whispered. “But he says he will. That’s why I’m being… trained.”
A soft moan escaped Lydia’s lips, but it was quickly muffled. The sound sent a thrill through me, knowing that my words were affecting them so intensely. I could hear their breathing growing heavier, matching my own as we all explored our bodies in the dark.
As I continued to describe my experiences in hushed tones, I felt my arousal curbed again by my governor. The constant presence of the plug, the memory of Gamma’s touch, and the illicit thrill of sharing these secrets should have brought me closer to some release, but instead there was the tingle, and my hands could do no more than soothe. Still, soothing was better than nothing.
“How many times has Mr. Gamma… fucked you?” Lydia asked in a breathless voice, stumbling slightly over the crude word.
I opened my mouth to answer, my cheeks burning at the intimate question, when suddenly light flooded the room. We all froze as Mrs. Porter strode in, her face a mask of stern disapproval.
“What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, her voice sharp in the sudden silence.
With swift, efficient movements, she yanked back the covers from Lydia’s and Elara’s beds. Both girls let out startled yelps, hastily trying to pull their hands from beneath their nightgowns. But it was too late—their flushed faces and guilty expressions told the whole story.
Mrs. Porter’s lips pressed into a thin line as she surveyed the scene. “The alarms on all of your governors have gone off,” she said, her tone icy. “I should have known better than to trust you girls to behave yourselves.”
I lay perfectly still, hoping against hope that Mrs. Porter wouldn’t notice my own state of arousal. But her keen eyes missed nothing. She turned to me, her gaze stern.
“And you, Miss Tessara,” she said, disappointment evident in her voice. “I expected better from you. Mr. Gamma will be most displeased to hear of this behavior.”
The mention of Gamma sent a fresh wave of shame through me. I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him, of proving myself unworthy of his attention and care.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Porter,” I whispered, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
Mrs. Porter’s expression softened slightly, but her voice remained firm. “See that it doesn’t,” she said. “All three of you will be punished tomorrow for this transgression. For now, remain silent and go to sleep. And remember—any further attempts at self-pleasure will be met with even more severe consequences than you are all already in for.”
As Mrs. Porter turned to leave, Lydia spoke up, her voice small and trembling. “Mrs. Porter,” she said, “please… it was my fault. I asked Tessara questions. She was just trying to answer them.”
Mrs. Porter paused, her hand on the doorknob. “While I appreciate your honesty, Miss Lydia,” she said, “that does not excuse your behavior. All of you chose to engage in forbidden activities. You will all face the consequences. I have a feeling you will find them not quite so pleasurable as your wantonness in bed this evening.”
With that, she left, plunging the room back into darkness. The silence that followed was thick with tension and unspoken fear about what the morning would bring.