Elisa hummed to herself as she primped in front of the big mirror in her quarters. It wasn’t easy to apply makeup in the dim lighting, but she had it as bright as the latest power restrictions allowed.
She didn’t try to fool herself about what she was doing. She tried to make herself as attractive as possible for Clan Zemos. Every smile, every kind word, every hint of approval she received from them was saved in her heart. Even the Dramok’s clumsy compliments the day before were gold, as little as she believed them.
“Your pretty face could brighten the darkest night,” she gruffly informed her reflection. Elisa laughed. “So smooth, Captain Zemos. Are you hoping for seconds on your meals?”
She shook her head, noting the crow’s feet that appeared with her smile. She acknowledged them with sad acceptance. No, she was not pretty anymore, if she ever had been. It was still nice to hear someone say she was, though. Sometimes Elisa believed the falsehoods Clan Zemos spoke, simply because they offered them with such warmth. The three men were always kind to her. Was it any wonder she’d fallen for them?
Elisa liked all the Kalquorians that had been taken prisoner. Even the ones in the general population brig had been unfailingly nice to her. They bowed at her approach and thanked her warmly for bringing their meals, as if it wasn’t a part of her duties. Despite the fact the alien species was without many women, they never acted untoward with her. There were no ugly comments, like the ones Remington constantly made. Sure, their gazes might contain a certain amount of heat, but Elisa thought that was to be expected. Even with need in their expressions, the Kalquorians also managed a measure of reverence at her presence. She never got a sense of violation around them.
Elisa had entertained fantasies of the Kalquorians breaking free and escaping, of them taking her with them as an adored prisoner. Her body warmed to think of being held helpless, bound naked in a dungeon-like setting as man after man came to her, taking his pleasure with her body. They would ignore her pleas for mercy, intuiting she wanted them every bit as much as they wanted her. In those visions that made her stomach churn with ticklish warmth and her sex grow wet, they made her acknowledge her animal lusts, giving her the ecstasy she’d only experienced with her own fingers.
Elisa was well used to such feelings, as frighteningly strange as they were. Before the capture of the Kalquorians, she used to daydream about other men getting her alone, of them demanding her to surrender to their passions. Those fantasy men had never had faces or been anyone she actually knew. No one on the ship had really interested her in that way, especially since she was afraid one of them might actually end up raping her.
Elisa had long given up trying to understand how she could fantasize about forceful encounters with the men. She didn’t know why she found the idea alluring, particularly when it came to Zemos, Oret, and Miragin. How could she imagine such things yet still despise the threat that came from men like Remington? Was it because she sensed the underlying goodness of her objects of affection, rejecting those who looked only to their own desires with no thought for hers?
She made no sense to herself, especially since realizing Clan Zemos had turned into more than a delicious and decadent fantasy to be served in her lonely virgin bed. She was aware their seeming kindness could be a lie. Yet it never felt like a falsehood. Every time they asked after her welfare, it was with the sense that they truly cared to know she was happy and healthy.
It was crazy that Elisa had fallen head over heels for the trio, yet she had. She was absolutely convinced she was in love.
Releasing next week.