The pretty blonde held her eye, her serene expression slipping. “I don’t know. That is why you must heed my advice. Distract him, chat with him, ask questions. Keep Jacques talking. When that has run its course, finish him quickly before he gets creative. Rub his back afterward, make him tired.”
“Finish him?”
A blonde brow cocked. “You must understand the fundamentals of sex? Didn’t anyone teach you such things when you were younger?”
There was a simple protocol to scheduled pleasurable coitus sessions. George had petitioned, she had agreed, and she had done as instructed by Oversight. “You lay still until they finish. Afterward you return to your duties.”
Annette stared, unblinking, her mouth unable to catch up with her mind. “Well, you see, Centrist females are educated a bit differently. We are encouraged to enjoy ourselves, both with a partner and alone.”
Who would like such mindlessness overtaking their bodies? “Enjoy what?”
“Has he never made you… you know? Jacques has a reputation for being a very thorough lover. Women go to great lengths to get into his bed.”
“Why?”
Eyes sad, Annette set down the cloth and sighed. “Someone should have explained these things to you. Jacques should have known.”
Their comfortable morning was beginning to sour, Brenya frustrated. “What things? The horrible machine you gave him? He steals my mind away until I’m nothing but a body he controls. That machine… that thing is always inside me. When I tell him no, he smiles. He holds me down if I fight. He increases the sensation if I behave. There is no stopping him!”
“I suggested the pliarator so you would not get hurt again… I never thought you’d dislike it.” Guilt brought dampness to the Beta’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Thinking of that machine was already doing something to the place between Brenya’s legs. The water hid the effect, but slick had begun to gather. “When he uses it, I am not able to speak to distract him. Your advice won’t save me.”
Annette sobered from her selfish tears and tried to explain. “If you do not submit to the pliarator, the next time he… makes love to you, you will feel pain. Can you not just make yourself bear it out of self-preservation and the greater good? He’s the Commodore, Brenya. I can’t… you can’t…” At a loss for words, Annette muttered, “Nothing can be done.”
“You mentioned women who want this attention. Could they not take him?”
“He has never been faithful to a lover. The fact he’s not cast his eyes toward another in all these weeks is a miracle. But, you are Omega and he seems to enjoy being out of his element. Maybe if you acted more like the other females do, he would tire of you.”
None of her questions seemed to lead to worthwhile answers. “What do they do?”
“They fawn on him, seduce. Smile when he comes in the room. Touch him. Seek to give him pleasure in bed. And by that I mean, do not lay there, do not fight. Stroke him. Compliment his… size.” Annette made herself busy with washing Brenya’s arms, seemingly unsure of what to properly say. “There are other options to wear him out until we can come up with something.”
But the male never got tired, or hungry, or thirsty. He never stopped. “How will I do these things if he holds me down?”
There was a hidden determination in the Beta, anger toward Jacques Annette didn’t try to hide. “Alphas enjoy chasing their prey. Do not give him a reason to hunt you. If you went up to him the moment you see him later, got on your knees, and took his member in your mouth, you would have all the power. You would catch him off guard. Don’t run, don’t fight. It’s not working. Mimic all his other women, and he might grow bored.”
Anything. Brenya would try anything. “What do I do once it’s in my mouth?”Annette had trimmed Brenya’s hair into a different shape, put paint on her eyes, pinkened her lips and left her in a dress. The angry red scar pinching her cheek had even been muted with flesh colored paste.
She looked like a Centrist Beta, doe-eyed and poised.
They had practiced smiling, topics of conversation, how to nod when another person talked to reflect engagement.
Just as Annette had said, the bedroom had been cleaned, the terrace remade into a quaint sitting area in the sun. All around, the air was still tinged with Alpha scent, but the offensive nest was fresh.
It was as if the last weeks had never happened.
Except the marks of Jacques enthusiasm were hidden under Brenya’s white dress.
Soon enough, Jacques would return.
And when he did, Brenya was going to hold her hands tight behind her so the Alpha could not see them shaking, and smile. She was going to walk up to him. Then she was going to ask about his day, offer him tea, repeat the things he said back to him. If that didn’t work…