Power Sabotaged : A New Life For Sheila : Part 6 : New Horizons
Bob was good to her, she now felt. She was happy with the food he gave her, and even more with the physical needs he answered. He was not entirely the perfect soul mate, but she found she enjoyed his company and his conversation, to a good degree. She enjoyed his flattery and attentiveness even more. Because this was the most attention she had received in recent years she found she needed this. Although she did not want him to take her for granted she made herself available to him whenever he wanted, as much as possible. She had nothing else of much importance to do, except daily chores, at this time when the whole economy was in abeyance, and nothing was as it had been.
But he did not want her all the time. Perhaps it was just as well that he did not, because there were many things which did need to be done to keep her home in order. Food provision, preparation and preservation had to be managed, and were made more difficult without electricity. Luckily her cooker was gas, and with matches she was able to 'cook' sometimes when she had the appropriate food. However the gas pipes were subject to occasional interruption by the terrorists, although they seemed to concentrate more on electrical supplies and the government seemed able to repair whatever damage was occasionally done to the gas network.
She needed to maintain a frequent presence in her house so that it was not burgled or damaged by the swollen ranks of those who resorted to criminality in these hard times. She also did not want her neighbours asking too many questions about where she went so much of the time or what she was getting up to. She needed to stay in contact with neighbours to find out all that was happening in the neighbourhood. They had become her main source of news now that TV, radio and internet were no longer possible.
She wondered instinctively why Bob did not want to see her on certain days, when he seemed so keen the rest of the time. She understood of course that she was not a normal 'girlfriend'. He had paid for her charms in food, the privileges of his stockpiling. She had refused to be his for nothing, had been shocked and resistant when he had made his first suggestions. How could she protest when he did not need her for much of the time.
When she first surrendered and came to his door, he had been dressed only in towel. He had not wanted to let her right into the house. She could and had only imagined that one of his other conquests or another woman, who had 'sold' herself to him, must have been in there with him. She felt some jealousy, although she had no right to be jealous. She also felt curiosity. Who was this other woman, or quite likely, those other women? Were they regulars like herself, or occasionals, or one offs. Did they view him as a lover, a friend, or merely as a man who could pay them in kind?
"Bob?" she asked. "Why do you not want to see me tomorrow? What do you do then? Is it another of your women?"
He seemed slow to answer, unenthusiastic. What secret did he wish to hide? Or did he just wish to keep her sweet by avoiding admitting to his other woman or women.
Then he allowed himself to explain. "Yes I have other women. Like yourself I have encouraged them to come to me in return for favours. Before the current collapse a woman's price was high, but I have found it is now a much lower price. Women will sell themselves for a much lower value than before, and I find they will share a man, even if they would rather not. I did not want to say much about my other women. You are all different! I regard you as a friend and lover, but in a sense you work for me too.
"There are many women selling their charms now, since the lights went off," said Bob. "There are certain places, near the centre of town, where women congregate to earn favours, food or 'gifts'."
Sheila's ears tingled with interest. The idea of ordinary everyday women on street corners, advertising their charms, unlocked a chasm in her mind, out of which dark and dangerous fantasies emerged. She had gone a small way towards that perverse freedom from the conventions of her past in her dealings with Bob, but she now found she had a great curiosity towards the behaviour of other women.
"Have you used such women? How do you know?" she asked frankly.
"Yes I have been there, and used them. Only a handful of times. I have been there, both before the current crisis and since. Those 'businesses' are incredibly changed by the recent disasters. Women who would never have engaged, and certainly not openly, in such behaviour, are now having a go, in desperation perhaps, as a source of their food needs."
"Will you show me Bob? I want to see this," she asked unexpectedly.
"I wasn't thinking of taking you there," said Bob. "I don't think you need to go there! You have enough of me to occupy you, and I have been giving you food also."
"I want to see it! Somehow the idea excites me," she explained. "Tell me Bob. How is it that there are enough men with food or supplies to trade all these weeks later. You would think they would be running low on food stocks by now. How can they keep using their food for sex, and then come back again another night and another beyond that?"
"I suppose they have a lot of food! They are rich and they purchased the stocks when the power cuts began."
"And what about you Bob? How did you get your hands on so much food?"
"I was sensible! I acted when I had my chance. I made sure I had plenty. I was lucky too."
"How much have you got left? You've been 'spending' it generously, on me, and on the other women. Your stocks must be down by now. You've been eating food yourself over the last weeks. There can't be much left."
Bob became quite quiet, unlike his normal talkative self, unwilling to answer. It seemed to Sheila that he must be getting worried, that his foodstocks were inevitably running out.
"I want to try it!" she declared, lying next to Bob in the morning after another rewarding bout of lovemaking.
"What?" he asked, rousing himself from post sexual slumber. "What do you want to try?" He did have an idea of what she might be referring to. She had been asking questions about this for days now and had even got him to walk down there with her and show her what went on. It was on her mind, obviously. He assumed that must be what she was talking about.