the bathroom. In a matter of seconds, she stripped off her clothes. She glanced at the mirror but quickly looked away.
She didn’t like looking at herself. There were scars, scars she never had the time to get cosmetically removed from her flesh that she didn’t want to acknowledge. They were a tribute to those first years alone, working to get off of Elyria. They were another reason, an easier reason for her never to get attached to a lover. She could blame the scars and not her DNA.
Alexa tugged open her locker to grab her dye and hesitated when a simple, silver canister sat in the front of her belongings. Marked on its side were the words Better Dye.
She threw it across the room at full force, clanging as it rattled the metal walls.
“Fuck you!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
She twisted to the shower unit and turned it on, setting the water at lukewarm. Fuck him. Fuck Hysterian. The canister rolled to her foot, and she kicked it away.
Stepping into the stall, she cursed him over and over, pummeling the unit around her. When her exhaustion returned, she was panting, sliding down the wall. The water drenched her from above.
“Fuck you,” she whispered, pushing her hand between her legs. Her fingers found her clit, and she dropped her head. She rubbed hard and fast, needing release like it was her next breath. Nerves sparked down her legs, making them shake with each hard stroke of her clit. And when it wasn’t enough, she pressed her thighs closed and writhed into her hand, mimicking sex.
Imagining what Hysterian would do to her…
“Fuck you,” Alexa moaned. She tossed her head from side to side. She pinched and rolled and rocked, growing desperate. The orgasm eluded her, though, and the longer it took, the more she lost her mind.
She screamed, pretending it was the scream Hysterian threatened to coax from her.
Alexa pinched her clit, begging for the tension to end, but it only grew worse. She imagined what he would be doing to her right now if she had stayed.
‘I’ll have you stretched and spread and screaming…’
She tried to picture Raul in Hysterian’s place, but couldn’t. She didn’t want Raul.
But I can stretch myself, I can spread myself, and I can scream without him.
Alexa pushed open the shower unit and reached for the canister, bringing it into the stall with her. She put it between her legs and rubbed against it. Thick and blunt, steely, it was Hysterian, and she slumped forward with a moan.
She wanted it inside her, eradicating this pressure. Alexa lined it up to her sex and pushed. She could do this. She could do anything to herself that Hysterian could do to her.
It was solid, without any give, and there wasn’t any tapering to work herself with. She wiggled and bit down on her lower lip, giving it her best effort. She couldn’t make it fit.
Alexa slumped, defeated.
The water sluiced down her skin as she pulled her hands from between her legs, giving up. Disappointment filled her. She wasn’t going to get herself off, no matter how hard she tried. She wasn’t going to make herself scream in release with all the effort of her fingers. All she could do was spread her legs, and even then, the stall was too small for much of that.
The water cooled. It soothed.
After a time, she pulled herself upright and into a sitting position. She pushed her hair out of her face. The water had long ago gone icy. Lifting her head, she let it cleanse her, calm her, and take everything else away.
Getting to her feet a short time later, noticing the wrinkles on the pads of her fingers, she grabbed the canister and sprayed the contents into her hair. Citrus and flowers invaded her nose. No chemicals, no cheap burn. It slickened her hair like silk.
Resignation was all she felt anymore. But with it came a little bit of peace.
She dressed and tugged her wet hair back into a bun.
“Takeoff is commencing in five minutes.” Hysterian’s voice filled her ears.
She smiled, left her quarters, and sat down at her desk. Raul saluted her. She buckled herself in, ready to leave Titan. To leave, have a stiff drink, and…
Never come back.
Eleven
“Contact Libra station. Let them know we’re coming and that we’ll need to restore the Questor’s resources and supplies,” Hysterian ordered, tapping his finger against the cloth covering his mouth.
Horace swiveled in his chair. “We’re heading back to Gliese