Chapter 42 Noelle
NOELLE
They lingered in the hallway for a moment, none of them wanting to go off alone.
“Well, I guess we have no choice,” Bright said at last. “Let’s try to get some sleep and we’ll plan some more in the morning.”
Burn nodded, scowling.
“Stay alert, both of you. If anything happens—shout. I’ll come running.”
To her surprise, Bright bent and swept her up in his arms as easily as if she weighed nothing. “Hey!” she protested, but he just smiled gently.
“Burn carried you earlier—now it’s my turn to hold you,” he said, his hazel-green eyes warm and earnest. “And don’t even try to say you’re too heavy. You’re not.”
Burn just grunted his agreement, brushing a callused hand over her shoulder in silent comfort.
Noelle let herself relax into Bright’s arms, soothed by the way both males seemed to want to share her protection, not fight over her.
They really are willing to share, she thought. Neither of them is trying to claim me for himself. I never thought I’d feel so safe in such a strange place.
Bright carried her back to the rooms they’d been given and put her down reluctantly.
They said goodnight, each of them pausing for a moment—reluctant to part, even for a few hours.
Burn squeezed her shoulder and Bright pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
Then she slipped into the vast, dimly lit bedroom that was now hers.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, the silence hit Noelle like a weight.
The enormous space seemed to echo around her, swallowing her up.
Everything about the room was on a giant scale—an immense bed draped in thick blankets, a wardrobe that could have doubled as a walk-in closet back home, and plush purple carpeting that muffled her footsteps.
Though at least it wasn’t as deep as the carpeting outside in the hall, which made walking difficult.
It’s like falling into a fairy tale. Or a nightmare, Noelle thought.
She wandered to the adjoining bathroom, curiosity mingling with her anxiety. The bathroom fixtures were oversized, alien, and utterly baffling.
The bathtub alone was as tall as her chest, with strange, spiraling pipes and glittering handles shaped like curling vines and crystalline spheres.
It took her several minutes to figure out which combination of knobs made hot water flow—the first one turned on a blast of icy water and the second one shot out steam, but the third combination finally rewarded her with a cascade of warmth.
Noelle dragged a heavy wooden stepstool over to the edge and climbed into the tub, feeling a flush of relief as the hot water closed over her aching limbs. The bath was so big she could stretch out completely and still not reach either end.
I could swim laps in here. It’s even bigger than the Kindred bathing pools back on the Mother Ship, she thought.
She let herself float, closing her eyes, the weightlessness soothing her for a moment.
But she couldn’t drift forever. She needed to get clean, she reminded herself.
There were bottles lined up along the edge of the enormous tub—oversized, with bright alien glyphs on the labels.
Noelle sniffed the contents carefully—one smelled like mint and honey and a strange alien spice she couldn’t name.
Another reminded her of crisp apples mixed with a floral essence which was nice.
She used the apple-scented one for her hair, luxuriating in the feeling of washing away the grime and stress of the prison ship. The bubbles were thick and rich, clinging to her hair in shimmery layers.
She was glad to see that she was able to touch her hair enough to wash it, though she had to be careful not to touch the rest of her bare skin. The damn collar she was wearing made washing tricky, but she found an oversized sponge on a stick and used the mint and honey soap to scrub her body.
For a little while, she pushed everything out of her mind—the fact that she was now owned by a Trollox and the way her body was throbbing with sexual need—and let herself enjoy the simple, human pleasure of being clean.
If only everything else could feel this normal, she thought wistfully, as she finally started to relax.
But her body’s needs intruded on her peace and soon she couldn’t ignore the persistent ache in her breasts any longer. They felt even fuller and heavier than before.
Madre de Dios, they’re so sensitive. And my nipples… She glanced down, feeling a sharp stab of concern. Are they… darker than usual?
Her pussy was throbbing too—swollen and tender in a way that made her horribly uncomfortable.
Even pressing her thighs together made her wince.
And every time she forgot herself and reached to rub her breast or scratch her hip, the collar shocked her—a sudden, stinging pain that left her gasping and blinking away tears.
This is torture. I can’t even scratch an itch and my whole body is itchy and needy. Why did Lupin say this would happen if I didn’t take that second treatment? Nectaritis… and what was the other one? Advanced sexual hyper-neediness? Is that what’s happening to me? Dios, I wish I knew!
She finally dragged herself out of the bath, wrapping up in one of the giant towels hanging on a very high rack mounted on the wall. Noelle had to stand on her tiptoes to pull it down.
But once she had it, she found it wasn’t like any towel she’d used before.
It was coarse and rough—like drying off with sandpaper, she thought, wincing as she blotted carefully at her over-sensitive skin.
She dabbed at her aching breasts and between her thighs as gently as she could, but the rough towel still made her flinch.
As soon as she was dry, she decided to get dressed for bed—preferably in something that covered her enough that she wouldn’t be shocking herself all night.
The green gown from the auction was out of the question, of course.
For a moment, she thought about wearing the oversized men’s shirt she’d found in Burn’s closet.
But that made her wonder if there might be clothes in the closet in her own room.
Hope fluttered in her chest as she crossed the room and opened the enormous wardrobe.
Sure enough, there was a whole row of outfits in varying sizes—many of which looked like they might fit her. For a brief, wonderful moment, she thought she might have found something to make her feel safe and normal. But her heart sank almost immediately as she examined them more closely.
The first outfit was a black vinyl corset with matching thigh-high boots—definitely the kind of thing you’d see in a club, not a bedroom.
The second was a silvery mesh catsuit, with holes strategically cut out so that her nipples and pussy would be completely on display.
The third was a pair of red lace panties attached to garters and absolutely nothing else.
There were also latex mini-dresses, mesh halter tops, and even a sheer skirt that would have left her backside entirely bare.
Madre de Dios, what kind of person picked out these clothes? Noelle wondered. Every single outfit was obscene or provocative in some way.
At last, she found a sheer red nightgown—the only thing in the closet that looked remotely wearable, even if it was nearly transparent. She pulled it over her head, grateful for the soft, slippery fabric against her hypersensitive skin.
At least it doesn’t itch me. And the color looks pretty against my skin, she thought.
But when she looked in the enormous floor-to ceiling mirror mounted on the wall, she saw that her nipples and the soft mound of curls at the top of her pussy were clearly visible beneath the thin fabric.
Oh well. It’s better than being completely naked, she told herself. And it’s not like anyone is going to see me.
It was time to get some sleep—if she could— with her body throbbing the way it was. But just as Noelle was about to climb into the massive bed, she glanced down and felt her heart fist in her chest.
There were drops of liquid beading at the tips of her nipples, clearly visible through the sheer silk fabric of the nightgown. In fact, the nightgown already had wet spots on it so she must have started leaking a while ago.
Noelle stared down at herself in dismay.
What in the…? Madre de Dios!
She pulled up the nightgown for a closer look and saw more droplets forming on her tight points, the ache in her breasts intensifying with every passing moment. The liquid was a golden amber color that reminded her of honey.
Without thinking, she reached out to touch one nipple, desperate to see what was happening to her. A sharp shock crackled through her, making her yelp in pain. That really hurt!
Suddenly, it was all too much.
What am I doing here? I’m stuck here, a prisoner, leaking some weird golden syrup, and I can’t even touch myself to find out what’s wrong!
Tears welled up in her eyes—tears of frustration, fear, and helplessness. She turned away from the mirror, clutching her arms around herself, careful not to touch her own skin.
What am I going to do? What’s happening to me? Am I turning into some kind of alien… thing? Oh, Blessed Virgin, please help me. I just want to go home. I just want to be normal again. Why is this happening? Why now?
She crawled onto the enormous bed, trying to find some comfort in the softness of the mattress. But her body was still humming with discomfort, her mind spinning with fear and uncertainty.
Please, please, let this all be a nightmare. Let me wake up back on Earth, safe in my own bed. Just for one night, let me stop being afraid.
But the silence in the enormous room felt endless, and Noelle was left alone with her worries and her aching, leaking body, praying for morning—and for some kind of miracle as she sobbed all alone in the giant bed.