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One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

“He—” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy, a foreign, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. “Help!” My voice was so weak and thready, there was no way anyone would hear me, not through what I was now recognizing as sound-proof padding on the walls. What had happened to me? I couldn't remember. I didn't know where I was, had no idea why I was here.

Alexis gave a sad smile and hugged her knees to her chest. “Though I complained about it initially, I’ve had a lot of fun here at the Knight’s Sheath. I love living and working with Sophia, I love helping the girls and keeping them safe, I love punishing the arrogant and entitled ogres that come in here and think they can do whatever they want, and I love reading those books on quiet and lazy afternoons. But still, part of me wishes… that Sophia and I had come along with you and Valia on your journey. I was angry at you for what happened, but all this time, I’ve missed you. I missed talking to you, I missed eating with you, I missed arguing with you, and fighting alongside you. Why didn’t you invite us? Why… did you leave us behind?”