The General
Elaine Waters
Then there’s me. I’m not there to have sex with alien warriors. I’m there to clean their dishes and laundry, straighten their sex-wrinkled sheets, and hope I don’t anger any of these beasts.
Of course nothing goes right. The General comes up to me, asking me to lift my skirt. I somehow avoid fainting, and stutter a “no.” He’s shocked. I’ve never seen this man shocked before. I’ve never seen him looking anything but bored or angry. There’s a dozen women here who wouldn’t dream of turning him down, but the General wants me— his quiet maid, the human with the plain body and the backbone to reject him.
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