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.
"I've ensured the permits have passed the review board and arranged protection for the premises. I heard about the stalker last week. I can only imagine how frightened you ladies were."
My shoulders stiffened. His masked misogyny made my skin tighten and brought to mind the reason I was here in the first place.
I'd spent years trying to please a fragile man I'd vehemently defended as "one of the good ones." With his underhanded control and maddening manipulation, I'd had a mental breakdown, and I came to realize he would never respect me. Every ounce of sexuality vanished, and I decided I wasn't made for relationships.
In time, I left him for the commune/monastery/cult with strict 'no-touching' rules. Five years later, I realized I was more of a Kinsey five. I found I was so sexual it was almost problematic.
"Mr. Black, we are all aware of your ambitions, but let me remind you that you were given special dispensations to participate. You're quite the legend around here for that very reason. And we certainly appreciate your generosity." How much was this killing her to say? His hand flitted in a dismissive gesture.
"Yes, yes." Stepping past Boss, Mr. Black slid a hand to my lower back and whisked me away. He grabbed a paper plate, sneered at the options, and discarded it. He lowered his mouth to my ear, and I held back a gag at his moist breath.
"Where's the meat? You girls need more protein. Gatherers need a hunter. Especially you, baby. I hear you swing both ways. I bet you've been missing some alpha energy around here." My fists clenched, and my elbow jerked into his ribs.
"Oops, sorry," I replied in a sing-song voice. I could feel myself becoming gayer by the second.
A rapey smile crossed his face. You'd think a man's ego would suffer when thrusting himself on an uninterested person. Assuming everyone wants you, though, must minimize the cognitive dissonance.
Mr. Black dismissed the available options for seating. Instead, he pulled me into a low-lit alcove with an obstructed view of the cafeteria. A green light flicked on, and I glanced at the shifting camera above us. We sat on the dark couch, and I looked around, holding my plate awkwardly.
Mr. Black wrapped an arm behind my shoulders, grasped my plate, and tossed it aside.
"Now that we have some privacy let's see if my money was worth it." His face was way too close, but at least his breath was minty. He toyed with a strand of my hair. Before I could fill the silence, his slick mouth was pressed against my neck, making me gag.
"Get off!" I shoved at his chest, but he wrapped his arms around me like a vice.
