She woke to pain, inside and out. Soul of a whore. They said she had the soul of a whore. Because she had cried out with pleasure at what they had done. She felt as if Mala had reached into her and ripped out any enjoyment she had in sex.

Her enjoyment of Mark, their anticipated pleasure with Jason. All of that was gone. Instead was the knowledge that because of her enjoyment, because she gained pleasure from somebody other than the man she loved, she was a whore.

Normal girls – good girls – didn't feel like that. Good girls got pleasure from the man they loved. They didn't want or need anybody else.

She was a whore.

Princess curled up in the narrow hospital bed and sobbed. She was a whore. She wasn't good enough for Mark. He couldn't want a whore. A woman who had enjoyed being raped.

She wanted to go to Mark. She needed to see how he was. Her heart was tight whenever she thought of his desperate cry for help, and how she had failed him.

She huddled tighter. There was nothing she could do. She was just a whore after all.

"Princess?" His hand came out and gently stroked the black hair.

"Mark?"

"He's in an induced coma for the next couple of days to allow his implant to heal him. We should probably have done that from the start."

"What happened?"

"His implant and his own stubbornness happened. He was supposed to take it easy. But you know Mark. Anything not to look weak in any way."

"My fault then. I should have persuaded him to rest. I should have persuaded him not to go on that mission with us." Except that he wouldn't have listened to a whore, she thought.

"No, Princess. If you're looking to blame anybody, it should be me. I knew his medical condition when I sent you out, and I still let him go. Don't blame yourself Princess. You know that he'll want you there when he wakes up."

"No. He won't. Not somebody like me."

Anderson touched her shoulder. "What do you mean 'somebody like me'?"

"A whore. He deserves better."

"Why do you say that? Mark loves you."

"How can he? I'm a whore."

"You were raped, Princess. It's not as if you went looking for sexual adventures."

"How do you know that? How do you know what I do? What I enjoy? Yes. Enjoy. I enjoyed it! And they said that I had the soul of a whore because I enjoyed it."

Anderson looked uncomfortable. "I had intended to talk with you, Jason, Tiny and Mark on the day of the attack about the effects that your implants will have on any sexual encounters you may have." he said. "Given that this has happened to you as well, I suspect that I may have left it a little late. I'm sorry, Princess."

"You think?" Anderson winced. He kept forgetting that Princess could be as sarcastic as Jason when she wanted to be.

"Your implants do a lot of things, Princess. One of them is to enhance certain sensations – especially ones that are incredibly tense. Sex is probably one of the most intense sensations you can have. It was a side effect that we never anticipated. However, just because you were raped doesn't mean your body wasn't stimulated. It's very common for rape victims to feel enormous guilt because their bodies responded positively."

Princess thought over what Anderson was saying, and then she raised her head. "I'm not a whore?"

"Princess, unless you've got into the habit of selling yourself for sex, then you aren't a whore. Women are allowed to enjoy sex you know."

"But, it wasn't just straight sex. It was..... Mala raped me, Chief. Not Zoltar. I shouldn't have enjoyed what she did to me. I'm not into women. And all those horrible men!"

Anderson was blushing. This was getting him far more information than he wanted. But he had to continue. As usual, Princess was blaming herself for things out of her control. "Would you have enjoyed it if it had been Mark doing those same things?"

She was at least sitting up now, hugging her knees to her chest. "Yes. I do enjoy it when Mark and I... I enjoyed it when they..." She broke off and went bright red. No need to let Anderson know of her and Mark's plans for Jason.

"Your body doesn't differentiate between Mark and anybody else. He will understand, Princess."

"When can I see him?"

"Anytime you want. He's in the room next door." Anderson paused and looked at the girl in front of him. No. No longer a girl. A woman. "I'm going to assume that you and Mark are having sex – and fairly regularly. I appreciate both of your discretion."

"Are you going to stop us?"

"Princess, I'm only human. If you and Mark had decided on a course of action, it would be a braver man than me who would try to stop you. All I ask is that the pair of you remain discrete and refrain from indulging at your place when Keyop is around."

"As if we would! But..."

"What?"

"We've talked about it. We want to get a place together. Nothing big. But it hurts to be apart."

"And Keyop?"

"Tiny's already said that he can stay with him. Not that we've talked to him specifically, but he makes very pointed remarks a lot."

"Well, if Tiny is prepared to take charge of Keyop, then I have no objections. I never did, actually."

"But we thought..."

"I can't help what you think. You probably should have checked with me before you made assumptions."

He noticed Princess looking at the door. "If you like, we can put your bed in there as well. They'll be bringing him out of the coma tomorrow, but he'll need to stay in bed for twenty-four hours at least after that. I suspect that his recovery will be faster if you're there too."

Her face was alight with joy. "Oh Chief! Thank you!"

"However – until you're both discharged officially, then please refrain from indulging your more carnal needs."

"Yes, Chief."

He stood and pulled her into a hug – the first in several years. "You're a magnificent woman, Princess. I don't think that you have it in you to be a whore. Mark is a very lucky man to have you, and I hope that I'll be the one that you ask to give you away – whenever that is."

She hugged him fiercely. "But of course. A girl always wants her father to give her away."

He steadied her as she got out of bed, but she was off with that lightness and grace that were an integral part of her, and he knew that by the time he got to check on Mark, she would be there. Watching over him.

Another crisis averted. Perhaps. He remembered one of her half statements. "When they".

Anderson didn't even want to think of the implications of that. He hoped he could remain in happy ignorance.