Page 71 of Savagely Yours
Back in the day, there was a social distinction between mistress and prostitute. In Totten, they appeared to be one and the same. For all of Totten’s hierarchies and its need for social order and morals by marriage, there was no building on Dez’s map I remembered being labeledChurch.
“First of all, you live in Juniper,” Emilio continued. “Juniper’s no Woodhaven, but you live in the same building as the medical staff when you should be in Aspen or Hawthorne like the rest of us who don’t fit the build-heal-farm-protect hierarchy. Then, I heard you had a Class One there early this morning, and there might have been some moaning.”
If this place planned to go that far, to bethatsmall town-like, the next time Dez was there, I would give them a show. It would be like porn over the radio. Maybe I would move the bed closer to the window to give them an entire production.
“And, remember, I work in Accounting,” Emilio went on. “The Class One who was outside your door ispaid,baby girl, and he’s paying for that little studio of yours at Juniper. Then he filed a special request to make sure you live alone. Wonder why that could be?”
Dez had likely filed the request because of how I’d lived in Sanitation. Still, with how attracted I was to that man, I would have gotten down and dirty with him even if I’d had roommates.
“I’m not a prostitute,” I clarified. “We know each other from before. He used to work for me, and this is his way of getting some semblance of power back.”
“Are you fucking him?”
I wasn’t.
Not yet.
“No.”
“Does he want you to fuck him?”
“Can we decide on lunch, please?” I looked at Yvette and Lyric, who silently watched with interest and amusement. “And no, I can’t ‘buy’ lunch for us all. I’m broke.”
Emilio scanned my outfit. “Plaid, preppy mid-thigh dress, long-sleeved top, and tights? That’s a nice outfit for someone who’s broke, or did ‘Daddy’ buy that for you too?”
I flipped him off.
The trio burst out laughing.
Our RFID credit bracelets were delivered today, although mine arrived with a zero balance. A Class One was in charge of all of my purchases, which was something I wasn’t informed of until they delivered the bracelets. Whatever I “earned” in Operations was deposited into Dez’s account, and he was then incharge of giving me an allowance. Had it been anyone other than Dez, I would have sprung for the fence.
“Just ask him,” Emilio insisted. “We can have a courier up here in minutes to run a message over to Woodhaven. Write a little notey-note and ask him for money.”
“And why would he just give me money?”
He gave me another look.
“Oh, so youwantme to prostitute myself.”
“I mean, is he at least a good-looking Class One? I only know his name, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him.”
Lyric cut in, “He’s the one that’s always angry. Thefineone with the hair and the low-cut beard.”
“He’s White, though,” Yvette added. She made a tick mark in the air. “Points off his scorecard.”
I looked at her, confused.
Yvette was at least twelve shades lighter than Dez. The word pale squinted atherin the sunlight.
Dez looked like he hiked and surfed, down to the sun-lightened strands of his hair. But it wasn’t like I’d gone out looking to fall in love with a man with “sun-lightened” hair strands. Love ran up on me, bit me on the neck, and laughed as it tiptoed away. My memories of being “in love” in the past now felt completely misguided. Dez and I had a rebellion to organize, but the only thing I’d managed to do all morning was miss him.
Want him.
Need him.
My fantasies were pure filth.
In them, Dez was able to clone himself, and the things each Dez did to my body made me blush, though my excitement was indistinguishable from my shame. In one fantasy, the clones cornered me in a cave, and theydid nottake turns. A sausage casing would have watched on in awe.
