Pretend to be asleep

That night I meditated as Mr. Hawk had taught me, a technique he assured me that I would have been taught if I were a full Sister already. I didn’t question how much he seemed to know about the Sisterhood of Red Riding Hood. In the three years I’d known him he’d always seemed to have answers for any question I’d asked, and he was seldom, if ever, wrong. It’s not like simple meditation tricks were deep secrets of our order anyways, right?

Regardless, there I was, naked, sitting cross-legged on the end of the bottom bunk, focusing on the burning in my still-aching womanhood. Pussy, he’d called it, and Clitoris. I shivered at the memory of the pleasure that little nub could bring me and my nipples hardened in the cold night-air. I breathed in the cold air and directed the breath with my mind, through my body, breathing it onto the fire building in my loins, keeping it in check. Not fighting it, or trying to squelch it as some of my instructors had said, but rather accepting it, and accepting that I had control over it. It was only natural, after all.

If it wasn’t normal and natural then why have to swear an oath to avoid it? Mr. Hawk had asked and of course, it made sense.

If it was evil, then why didn’t everyone have to swear the same oath? Mr. Hawk had pressed the point further and again, it made sense.

My question though was always… why was no one else telling me these things. I could have been so much more prepared, I could have taken care of things in secret, surreptitiously with Mr. Hawk’s help, instead of moaning like a common whore as he spanked me over his work bench.

I was meditating on my new knowledge when Charity walked in.

“Hi Chare,” I greeted, eyes still closed, legs spread, nipples hard as I shivered in the cold air of the open window.