Posted by PK on April 23, 2003 at 18:12:06:
Gina pictured it, played scenarios in her mind. "Graduation," she said.
"Oh, right. I've done my time, everything's okay?"
"Or you go to the table thinking it's going to be you and they order me. Big joke. You get my
tits on a plate and you're welcomed back into the fold." If there was any anger in the remark it
wasn't directed at Petra.
Petra was reasonably sure Gina wasn't attacking her. She didn't know what to say. "I'd eat
them," she said lightly.
"I'm sure you would," Gina said. She leaned forward and took Petra into a hug. "I'd like to say
it's going to be all right, but I'm not going to."
"Bitch," Petra mouthed into her shoulder. Gina smiled.
Snuggled up together in bed, Gina wondered. Why hadn't she just agreed to Petra's second
proposal? Pride, maybe. Nobody tells me what to do, I don't give in to moral blackmail.
Because of that, Petra might die tomorrow. And why not? judgemental Gina asked her warm
and fuzzy self. She's eaten other people, just like those you work with. She would have eaten
you. She said herself it's only fair, and it is. She could save herself even now, without your
permission.
But she only asked that because....why? Trying to help? Reaching out? How can I blame her
for trying to get me eaten when I put myself in the way of that?
Why should I care?
Because I like her. I shouldn't, but I do.
"Gina?"
"Yeah?"
"You really think I'm right? I mean, they get one of us tomorrow?"
"I don't know," Gina said. ("It's a possibility," Gina had said before. Obviously. Was it true?
Not unlikely. She backtracked. "They?") "I told you it's possible. I really don't know." She
expected an argument but Petra's body signalled acceptance of the answer.
Shall we meet on the hilltop
where the two roads meet?
Form the circle....
"Gina?"
"Yeah?"
"We could do stuff."
"Stuff?"
Petra could feel her heart pounding. Danger is great joy/dark is bright as fire...she choked.
"Pet?"
Jump into the fire. "Fool around a little." I am not a lesbian, I just, I just....pull yourself
together. Say something. "It's just like, tomorrow I eat your tits or you eat my pussy. Or
something else happens. Oh fuck, Gina, you said you'd like to taste it. Maybe tomorrow it'll
be too late. You'll be dead or Tony will get it. Last chance, get it while it's on me."
Forgiveness is a needle that knows how to mend.
Gina uncurled and rolled over. The small redheaded girl was helpless beneath her. Her arms
were lifted, hands palm up. Her belly undefended, waiting for alpha-female queen bitch Gina
to bite her. She licked the girl under her sternum and felt her pulse on her tongue. She
tracked it to the girl's neck, licked her exposed throat. Wolf-Gina tore her throat out.
Fortunately, Wolf-Gina existed only in fantasy, she was not an active component of real-
Gina.
Petra felt Gina's hand lift her head. She opened her eyes and stared into silver horses and
moonbeans in dangerous brown. (That pool inside the forest
in whose waters I may drown)
She opened her mouth and Gina entered her.
Adrianne was wearing white stockings. It wasn't exactly against the dress code, she had
shoes on, which were allowed, and nothing else. Tits and pussy (neatly shaven) on view at
the same time.
"You trying to get yourself cooked?" Janie asked. She was more conservatively dressed in
bikini briefs.
Those who had known Adrianne and Mel before Mel got chopped went silent. Janie, a recent
recruit, didn't get it.
Adrianne merely smiled. No explosion. Petra noted the smile, recognised it. A fey mood is
upon her, Gina thought and Petra heard her think it. Petra would have been willing to bet that
she didn't even know what 'fey' meant a week ago. Where was Gina speaking to her from?
Maybe something she had read and thought she'd forgotten resonated with her memory, that
reminded her of Gina. Maybe that's how telepathy works. She wasn't entirely convinced but
she didn't have time to think about it.
Petra had let Gina eat her up.She had enjoyed it. The alpha-bitch had not hurt her at all.
Afterwards, Gina had been relaxed and friendly.
["Not bad at all," she said.
Petra was limp as a boiled noodle. Okay, her internal narrator noted, I've just had my brains
fucked out by a woman. No big deal. "You do this often?" she asked inanely.
"No, just you," Gina said.
"How....?" Did you know what to do? she knew she didn't have to say. We speak in Morse.
Danced the dream, Gina thought. We had the theme, the rest we improvised. Life is jazz,
you can't rehearse it. "Same way you did," she said.
"I just let you..."
"Somebody always has to just let," Gina said. "Somebody always has to lead. Maybe next
time you'll lead in the dance. Maybe not."]
Adrianne went out, following in Mel's footsteps, or so it seemed she hoped.
Petra waited tables and waited again for the Family to show up. I am half-sick of shadows
said the Lady of Shallot. Break the mirror. Step outside.
["Gina?"
"Yes?"
"I enjoyed it."
"The sex?"
Petra kissed Gina's shoulder. "That too. I meant after the throwing up a bit. I liked what
happened after that. It was like nothing mattered. I was free."]
The family arrived. Lots of them. Everybody knew this was it, the mood moved in looks and
whispers. What 'it' was exactly was a moot point. Thus are legends and rumours born.
Gina smelled Anthony coming before he arrived, the way you can sense a storm. It makes
your nerves burn. She didn't know what Petra's indicators were, but she knew that she knew.
That wasn't lightning, it was resonance. Softer sychronicity. Boil your underwear in it. Oh,
right, Gina thought. Stoned again.
My baby don't realise that I'm hypnotised, one of them thought.
Petra stood naked before the Family. Lots of them. Uncle Tony, her father and mother,
numerous half-uncles and aunts. Oh yes, they had all come to see the show, it was a bit like
seeing dreams realised. Almost banal, really. Not quite naked, in fact, she had a skirt on, the
one Gina had passed to her, that concealed some of her hips. "Would you like to order now?"
she said. Her voice was steady and her posture, she hoped, poised and not defensive. If they
wanted to see her looking panicky or suppliant they could go fuck themselves. She'd rather
die.
"Perhaps you could help us with our selection," Tony said, smiling. "Is there anything you'd
particularly recommend?"
"I'm sure you're aware of the house specialty, Sir," Petra said neutrally. What sort of game
was Uncle Tony and his gang playing now? Was this where she was supposed to suggest
that they have Gina? Not playing that one, people. Try again. "We have a very good stock of
imported exotic meats as well as the more conventional dishes. I hear the Chef's ragout is
particularly good, and he can do wonders with souffles." And you fucking well know the
waitresses are on the menu too, including me.
Tony looked amused. He glanced around the table. Petra let her own gaze follow. Her father
caught her eyes for just a moment, she let her stare pass over him as if he were of no
significance, she gave him nothing. You want my pussy, go ahead, ask for it, she thought.
You're just another customer. She met Tony's eyes directly when he turned back to her.
Contact. She remembered what she was sure he did.
"Let's eat Aunt Helen," Petra had said, grinning, exhorting the crowd. And they had. It
seemed like an age ago. Now here she was, she no longer had Helen's option to decline. She
had refused to renege on the penalty for the bet and it was too late. Helen could have
refused, of course, but she was sure Anthony knew that and if he didn't she wasn't going to
change his mind now. No excuses.
"How have you been getting on, Petra?" Tony asked, his tone relaxed and sociable.
"I'm sorry Sir?"
"In your new job," Tony prompted. "Getting the hang of it?"
Petra considered various replies, her face displaying only a mildly quizzical expression. Get it
over with, you bastard, and order me if you're going to was the first reaction. She dismissed
it. "I endeavor to give satisfaction," she said stiffly. "I've had no complaints."
"I gather you've been staying with my wife," Tony said conversationally. "I do hope you've
been getting along. How is she anyway?"
While you're farting about with this little byplay somebody might be ordering her, Petra
thought. She tried to convey this without actually saying it. An odd thought occurred to her.
Tony couldn't win this unless she let him. He could kill her but he couldn't win. "She's fine,"
she said. Of course, he could kill Gina instead just to see if that bothered her, but that would
mean it was worth sacrificing his wife just to score a point against his ex-mistress. It didn't
make sense. On the other hand, who the Hell knew what Tony was thinking? Gina said she
didn't and Petra didn't think she had lied. "If you're not ready to order, I could come back
when you've decided." Her body language signalled restrained impatience. Time wasters,
waitress-Petra decided. I have work to do. Trying to figure Tony out was a trap, she realised.
It was a no-winner and only played to his strong suit.
"Tony, cut it out," Jerry blurted. Petra looked up in mild surprise. She didn't let it show, she
was a professional. "She's done the time. It's over." He stared at his daughter, willing her to
pay attention to him.
Petra regarded him. It wasn't over, she could have told him. Tony hasn't finished playing yet.
No fat lady has sung. She said nothing, verbally or otherwise.
"Come on, Tony," Michael said. "Let's cut the crap. Get Gina over here and we'll vote who we
get to eat. That's what's happening, right?" He looked around the table for support. There was
a mood of support for the idea, Petra sensed, but nobody was going to step out of line until
they knew which way the wind was blowing. The court fool had spoken before the King the
words that nobody else dared say.
"I suppose we could say hello, if she isn't too busy," Tony said, appearing to consider.
Petra looked around the room. Gina, graceful as ever, was doing her job as if nothing
unusual was happening. She was supplying wine to another table. She shouldn't be involved
in this.
"Yeah, fetch her over," Michael said. He appealed to Petra, with an eye to Jerry. "We'll have
her just like you said."
Everybody looked at Tony. Tony looked at Petra. Petra looked at her father for a second.
"I'm not coming back," she said. Make of that what you will. Her mother's face was frozen
and didn't touch her. No change there, then.
There's a cool breeze blowing, blowing down the track
That's where I'm going and I'm never coming back.
Baby's not going to cry any more.
One word, Petra realised, and I could tip the balance. One word and I'll be sitting with them
again with Gina's tits on a plate. Tony wants me to ask him for that. That's why he didn't cut
Michael down. He wants me to ask, or he wants me to think that. Maybe he wants to see me
think that before he cuts me up. The trap again. No way to know. No way at all. No way out.
Well, one. Nobody gives me Gina's tits except her. She stepped out of the box. Tony wanted
a personal conversation? Okay....
"Hello, Gina," Tony said.
Belatedly, Petra felt the heat and scent. Gina touched her bare shoulder and her pulse
jumped.
"Hello, Tony," Gina said. "Decided who you're going to eat next? Me or her?"
Oh, fucking great move, girlfriend. This was not going how Petra wanted it. She had wanted
to confront the family herself, now here was Gina, probably in her half-crazy SuperWaitress
mode, practically challenging Tony to order one of them.
"Who said anything about choosing between you?" Tony said, still smiling.
"Oh fuck off, Tony, just cut the shit," Petra said. Oh my God, she thought, I'm actually
agreeing with Michael. Shoot me now. "If it's me you want on a plate, say so and let's get on
with it."
Tony actually looked discomfited for a second, the smile wavered. Score one for the
Christians. "Dear me, that's not a very professional way to address a client," he riposted.
Poor move, Petra thought. "Crap. Who was it made it personal? You. 'How have you been
getting on, Petra?'" she mimicked. "Well, here it is: I'm fine, go fuck yourself. You want me,
order me or shut the fuck up or say what you do want." It was not an elegant speech but it
served, she felt it strike home. She knew she was provoking a crisis, that was fine by her.
Drawback: if Tony took the bait she'd be killed and he'd have her filet. She'd rather Gina ate
her pussy.
She had already done that, while it was still on her.
["Gina?"
"Yes?"
"I enjoyed it."
"The sex?"
Petra kissed Gina's shoulder. "That too. I meant after the throwing up a bit. I liked what
happened after that. It was like nothing mattered. I was free."
"You taste nice," Gina said. "Maybe next time I'll eat you raw."
Petra's skin burned, she could feel the tracks of Gina's tongue all over her. I wouldn't mind,
she thought.]