(Rigel)
Amaia wonders why I didn't try to mate with her and initiate sex. Why didn't I grope her breasts or feel the warmth between her legs?
How should I tell my innocent mate that my body is constantly used for sexual gratification?
There is an insatiable lust that I am made to fulfil.
The unthinkable ways my body is violated.
The horrors I am made to endure, I can't even voice them in front of her.
Disgusting and revolting I find myself. If she finds out the truth, I will become repulsive to her. She will loathe me.
Whatever she feels for me will vanish because she can't even sense the bond.
No, I want to keep her to myself for a few more blissful moments, maybe hours, if I am lucky, days.
"Not like this, Amaia. You deserve better. A comfy bed, decorated with white roses and surrounded by hundreds of candles." I paint a picture for her and she affectionately smiles.
