~~Austin, TX; Summer, 2052~~
It was over. Annabelle stared in stunned surprise at the sight of her boyfriend and another woman holding hands, making out at the restaurant she passed on her summer walk through that portion of Austin. She froze for several long moments, long enough for him to look up and see her. She shook her head when he rose, and turned, walking away. After she had returned to her car and driven there, it only took her a few minutes to pack what little she had at his apartment. She placed his key, and her engagement ring on the kitchen table, and then walked out, locking the door behind her.
Across town, in her own apartment, she had the locks changed so he couldn't get in. She gave him three days, but none of the messages were apologies or explanations, just accusations and blaming her. 'Overreacting' and 'It wasn't what you thought' were the themes of the dialogue, it seemed. She called the cellphone company and requested a number change. In that short three days, she had gotten more proof from other sources that this wasn't the first time.
She collapsed into her bed and wept, ignoring the door when he tried to come in, and then calling the police to have him removed from the premises. She quickly moved, and began rebuilding her life without him in it.
++++++++++++
~~Minneapolis, MN; Three years later~~
Annabelle helped Jasmine lay out the trays of finger foods, quietly assisting as Jasmine prattled on gaily. "I'm so glad you came, it's going to be so much fun. I'll introduce you to everyone, and you don't have to worry, it's just a munch. Nobody is going to bother you, or force you into this life, but it's good for you to at least look into it. I mean, talking about it for a year only carries you so far, you know?"
"It'll be something new," Annabelle murmured quietly in response. "I'll take over cooking as the guests arrive, that way you can have time, yeah?"
"You're so sweet to me," Jasmine said, throwing her arms around Annabelle in a tight hug. Annabelle quirked a slight half-smile in response.
The guests began trickling in slowly, and Jasmine went out to greet them while Annabelle took over cooking the meal. It wasn't long before several of the 'slave' women joined her in the kitchen to let the 'Masters' talk. As they talked, Annabelle just quietly listened, letting their voices wash over her. Occasionally she would make a small query to keep the conversation flowing but her focus was on making sure the meal turned out as good as she could make it.
It was getting closer to eating dinner when the subject changed, and one of the women made a comment that Annabelle didn't quite understand. Something about taking the collar off if she didn't agree with his behavior, to show she meant business. Annabelle murmured curiously, "Doesn't that kind of... defeat the whole purpose? I mean, I could understand wanting to end the relationship if he was abusive, cheating, or mistreating you. But, just to prove a point?"
The girl giggled, "That's because despite him being Master, I have the real power."
Annabelle shook her head slightly in confusion, "I'll... take your word for it," she finally murmured, not wanting to argue with her or engage in a discussion of that nature when she didn't have all the facts. The rest of the girls returned to their conversation, chattering away at the bar and ignoring her while Annabelle continued cooking. She started plating up the food on platters and moving it to the table silently.
Once she finished, she sent Jasmine a quick message saying that dinner was ready. She turned and started cleaning up quietly as the men trickled in, ignoring the women that immediately went over to serve their man as if they had actually been helpful. Annabelle looked at Jasmine when she joined her in the kitchen, "I've got this, why don't you go join your man?"
"I'm helping you so you have a chance to eat too," Jasmine murmured softly, ignoring the half-shrug she got in response. Finally, Jasmine dragged her over and sat Annabelle next to her, fixing her a plate, then herself one. Annabelle ate quietly, trying to ignore the sycophantic attention several of the single slaves were giving the man at the end of the table, including the one she had spoken to earlier.
The man at the end of the table sat, for the most part, eating quietly. Occasionally, he would respond to a question, but as she watched, she noted that when one of the single slaves asked, it was a short answer. Not curt, not rude, but simplistic and without any real substance. When one of the men asked a question, particularly Jasmine's husband, the conversation was much more elaborate. His face relaxed more, and he seemed to engage better.
Annabelle flicked her gaze up when one of the single masters spoke to her, attempting to engage her in conversation, "How do you like your job?" He asked, giving her a charming smile, "Ready to find a way to be a housewife?" He continued, giving her a leering wink.
"It's... a job? One that I enjoy and am good at." She murmured, her voice one of confusion as to why he was asking, before returning to her food calmly, not even willing to dignify the second question with an answer.
James snorted from where he was sitting by Jasmine, "David, don't ask rude questions. She is here to investigate and learn."
David sat back, "Well, she's rude." He stated firmly, staring at Annabelle's head challengingly.
"Rude would have been to tell you it was none of your business," James said, "Now, leave her alone, I won't have my slave's best friend thinking that we're all assholes."
Annabelle lifted her head, giving James a sweet smile, "Nonsense, Master James, I do not tar everyone with the same feather, you have always been quite kind and polite." She returned to her food, ignoring David again. Jasmine chortled silently beside her.
"James, I didn't realize you brought someone that was investigating, how wonderful!" the man at the end of the table murmured. "Have you and Jasmine known..." he trailed off looking at Annabelle with a curious, but warm expression.
James replied, "Annabelle. And yes, we've known her for a couple of years now."
The man smiled and inclined his head toward Annabelle. "Fantastic. Welcome, Annabelle. I'm glad that you could join us. Please, don't be shy. We're happy to answer questions. Truth be told," he looked at David with an unmistakable glare, "We don't like making people feel awkward, so we try to be as open-book as is reasonable." When his gaze shifted back to her, the smile was back and he lifted another bite of food to his lips.
She lifted her head slightly, giving him a slight smile, "Thank you, that is very kind of you, Master..." she trailed off, listening to Jasmine murmur in her ear. "Master Michael," she finished, before returning to her own meal. Michael regarded her curiously for a moment, then seemed to make a decision and returned to eating, still barely tolerating the attempts of the younger, eager slaves to get his attention.
After she finished eating her meal, Annabelle rose and began cleaning up quietly, as the rest of the group began trickling back into the living room. Jasmine joined her, "You know you could leave these for me?" Jasmine asked her, "Most do."
"That's rude," Annabelle murmured softly as she finished loading the dishwasher. "You're being gracious enough to host, and to provide the food and beverages, it doesn't take that long to do dishes." She huffed, "What, are they afraid to ruin their manicure?"
"Most of the time, yes," Jasmine said, giving a soft laugh. She moved out of Annabelle's way, as the two worked quickly. "What do you think?"
"Well, as long as there are more people like Master James, and fewer people like David, I could become comfortable," Annabelle said in response. Jasmine burst out laughing again, resting against the fridge as she did so, Annabelle regarded her for a moment with a small smile, before pulling out the chocolate pies and slicing them with a deft hand. She pulled out the last pie, "I remember you telling me someone having a fondness of peanut butter and chocolate pie, so I made one," she murmured as she sliced it up, and moved it to one side with a little note card.
Jasmine watched her, "OK, what's on your mind?"
"Well,..." Annabelle started, then fell silent, "I was... I thought that this type of life was a permanent deal." Jasmine nodded, encouraging her to continue. "But that one girl... she talked about how even though he'd be the Master, she's the one with all the power, and...," she trailed off again, grasping for the words. "It doesn't make sense. If you want him to be your Master, then why would you play games like that?"
Jasmine leaned back against the fridge, trying to decide how to explain it, "Because for some of them, this is all just a game. They want to play the Master and slave, but only in the bedroom, or only when it suits them to do so."
Annabelle listened, her brow furrowed in confusion. "That seems like a waste of time and energy," she finally murmured. "How would you know if someone really wanted to be yours, if you're always playing games? I don't think I'd want to get into this lifestyle, and agree to be a slave, only to find out later that it was all a game or a joke."
"Not everyone is like that, Anna. You'll just have to be careful. It's not really any different from what people think of as a 'normal' relationship that way," Jasmine said quietly. "Of course, if you find someone that you're interested in, you can ask James or I about them and we'll give you our advice if that's a good idea or bad idea."
Annabelle nodded, then patted Jasmine's shoulder, "Go, spend some time with your Master and guests, I'll finish up here. I'll probably slip out the back at some point and take a breather." Jasmine huffed, then kissed her cheek before leaving the kitchen. Annabelle continued quietly working on the dishes and wiping everything down.
Michael had listened to about as much of the twittering as he could stand for one evening without some sort of reprieve. Looking across the room at James, with a slight nod toward the back door and a slight raise of his glass, he began weaving his way toward the door to the porch. Outside, when the door had closed again, he exhaled a shuddering sigh before walking to the railing of the deck and looking up at the night sky. Raising his glass of iced scotch to his forehead, he muttered to himself, "Fucking hell...," wincing at the faint throbbing behind his eyes.
Annabelle peeked in the living room, then seeing David obviously hunting for her, she slipped out the back, quietly closing the door behind her. She froze for a moment, when she saw Michael, but seeing the pain on his face, opted not to say anything, instead she pulled a small bottle of painkillers from her jacket pocket and placed them in front of him before curling up in a chair.
He slowly lowered his gaze to the bottle, then looked at her as he set his drink on the railing and opened the bottle, pouring two pills into his hand. "You... are a lifesaver," he murmured with a wan smile. He popped the pills in his mouth and washed them down with a swallow of the scotch, before handing her the bottle back.
She smiled softly, taking the bottle and sliding it away back into her pocket, "I hope they help," she murmured. She peeked over her shoulder, then scooted down slightly so she wasn't seen in the window.
