Zara, Two Days Later
Zara, Two Days LaterNothing could have prepared me for life on Trion. At every meal, each bite was an explosion of taste and textures on my tongue. Sweet. Salty. Bitter. Rich. The food overwhelmed my taste buds the way the clothing seduced my skin. Except for the first night of our arrival, when I’d worn Isaak’s shirt, he’d made traditional Trion outfits out of the cool clothing-making machine. I didn’t know what the sheer, gossamer fabrics were made of, but they were softer than silk, light as air, and clung to every curve with constant caressing every bare part of me. I wore no underwear, no bra. I was beginning to feel like I wore nothing but n****e rings, chain between and air, the experience shockingly sexy.
I felt sexy. Beautiful. Adored. Me. I felt feminine.
