For the next few days, I was exempt from play until I'd been sufficiently examined, psychologically tested, oriented, and had signed a wealth of paperwork. Most of the tasks were incredibly unsexy. Finally finished, and on my way to being "released," I wandered into the cafeteria.
I looked around the industrial kitchen. The massive mixer was caked in flour, and every surface seemed to be of stainless steel. Ergonomic foam mats stuck to slick floor tiles. Café tables and wire chairs littered the open area, and women in various levels of dress socially munched away.
Their tinkling laughter and light conversation sprinkled the room and loosened my shoulders. A happy group of women were a safe group of women.
The kitchen's full-time staff provided a surprising spread of fresh everything. It was an excellent diversion from the cult's 'waste not want not' mentality. I'd been beyond tired of their second-day stews and stale loaves of bread.
Ji-Woo and I laughed at our collapsing paper plates piled high with food. Her warmth and welcoming nature did a number on my insides.
"Sara, look! It's animal-themed."
She pointed at a naked kiwi with cucumber ears and tail, toothpick whiskers, and peppercorn eyes. She scooped up the edible mouse, flicked off the decorations, and shoved the entire slice into her mouth. Taco, the orange cat, sat transfixed by the cucumber tail dangling from Ji-Woo's lips as she munched.
A bead of juice dripped down her chin, and I stepped forward without thinking, cupping her face. My thumb scooped up the trail of juice. Our eyes met as my finger went to my mouth, and I sucked the sweet syrup from my thumb.
"Shay. Get over here." A breath I hadn't realized I was holding rushed out. I turned to the doorway.
Boss had a clipboard clutched in her calloused hands and a pencil perched between the tip of her ear and her buzzed head. She was adorable when her stocky bulk was doing anything other than heavy lifting. It was like watching a massive monster trying to pour tea into a little cup.
I quickly set my plate down and jogged over to her, licking ranch dressing from the palm of my left hand.
"What's up, Boss?"
Her eyebrow quirked at my familiarity. But I figured the barriers were lowering since she now used my last name, Shay. Besides, she had been between my legs, fingers deep in my genitals.
"I need to talk about your numbers, and I've got a task for you."
"Shoot," I said casually. She glanced back down at her clipboard.
"You've outperformed our last three recruits in followers and 'donations.'"
"How much?" She continued without answering.
"I strongly suggest you start accepting tokens. Wishlists are worthless when money is so much more... versatile." She had a point.
"Anyway. Regarding the task, your bid price set a new record of which 5k is yours." I balked at the numbers. I didn't know what a bid price meant. I wasn't going to ask either.
As my mind spun with the new information, I barely noticed the tall man approaching. He caught my attention when dread settled in my gut.
"Your task." Boss whispered from the corner of her mouth as he approached.
He had an intense gym rat energy, and I groaned quietly inside. His dark hair was intentionally mussed. He wore a tight black T-shirt and a humble green cardigan, creating a pseudo-feminist vibe. His pungent musk thrust itself at my senses, making my eyes water.
It had been a whole week since I'd had to interact with his kind. I was stunned at the reflexive shift in my body. I was already shrinking into myself, taking up less space. My brain spun anxiously. It read his body language to determine the best way to interact with him safely.
"Ah, Mr. Black. Welcome. Let me introduce you to Sara, your lunch date." Date?
"Sara, this is Mr. Black, our second-highest donor."
"You'd think I'd be on the board by now." He mumbled. It was clear he was agitated, but he flashed a toothy smile.
