Female, Recreational by Badger Therese

Author:Badger Therese [Therese, Badger]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

First Dinner

“Where is she?” Hannah blurted back, heart racing.

“I don’t mean I found her, like where she is. I just found her records.”

“What did it say?”

“She’s out.”

“Out?”

“Out of jail.”

“Oh,” Hannah said, surprised by the way this news made her feel, a combination of fear and hope and uncertainty.

“Don’t talk about it,” Athena said.

“What?”

“At dinner,” Athena said. “Don’t talk about it. I wasn’t supposed to look. You’re not supposed to know. Don’t tell anyone you know.”

“Okay.”

Hannah could smell dinner before the elevator doors opened, and when she followed Athena into the kitchen, she was struck by how different everything was from earlier, when she’d walked through it on the way downstairs. All the lights were on, bright as day, and the island in the middle of the room was loaded with food, a steaming casserole and a roast, salad, a loaf of bread. But Hannah’s eyes were drawn first to a black girl standing at the stove, stirring something.

The girl turned away from her work and looked at Hannah, and Hannah stared back. She was tall, elegant, her straight black hair tied in the back in a long ponytail. She was dressed like an old-fashioned maid, in black with white frills, her skirt stopping at mid-thigh.

And she was collared.

“Hi,” Hannah said, startled by the presence of another slave.

The girl just continued to stare, her opinion of Hannah or any other matter undecipherable.

“Think you can carry food?” Athena asked.

“Yes,” Hannah answered, tearing her eyes away from the other female. “Slowly.”

“Grab the bread,” Athena said, wrapping hot pads around the casserole. “It won’t break if you trip.”

The other slave turned back to the stove, but Hannah studied her again as she lifted the bread and followed Athena into the dining room, a grand space but, Hannah assumed, the smaller of the two rooms where meals were taken.

The rest of the Petrosyans were already seated, and they all glanced up at Hannah as she entered and set down the bread. She already knew them well enough to anticipate what she would find in each face: Laura smiled warmly, Ormek glanced at her respectfully and looked back down, and Allain met her eyes and held them for a long moment, until his gaze moved down to her breasts, then her hips and between her legs.

She was glad, at this moment, that she was naked.

“Sit here,” said Athena, pulling out a chair for Hannah. “The chair with the towel is the one you should always take.”

The empty chair next to Hannah was finished in blue silk in a pattern of flowers and vines, but a blue towel had been draped over hers, and she sat, her shackles ringing against the floor, while Athena and the black girl brought in the rest of the food.

The Petrosyans dug in, Hannah followed their lead, and for a moment, she was struck more by the novelty of dining with a family than by the peculiarity of her situation. Almost all her meals had been shared only with Mother for the last three years.

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