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Cellulose & Steel	By : Not-Taylor Category: Misc Books > FemmeSlash Views: 1028 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own HDG or its characters and I don't make money from this work.

Chapter List
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Olivia’s train of thought dissipates as her captor lifts her off the floor and onto one of the towering kitchen chairs with her vines. It’s like a hammock made of massages. She moans softly, still unable to restrain the sound. The xenodrugs are mostly out of her system, but the effect is still there. At least she’s able to walk without using Verda for support now.
Verda pats her cheekbone to get her attention and looks her directly in the eyes. “I’m going to the ship’s pantry to get something suitable for human consumption. I shan’t be gone very long. Do you promise to stay right here and not get up until I’m home?”
Olivia nods.
“I want to hear you say it.”
She scowls indignantly. The xeno’s attempt at humiliation isn’t appreciated. It’s just another attempt at showing she can’t escape (for now), she thinks through the haze in her mind.Of course, she doesn’t really want to get up and she’s still hungry from before, but she’s not going to tell some weed that.
“If you’re not able to promise me that you’ll behave, I have no choice but to take you with me or tie you to our bed again. How would you like to handle this situation?”
It’s difficult for Olivia to continue to stare darkly at the congenial plant woman. Still, there’s no way out of the situation. ”Maybe she won’t remember I’m not wearing the cuffs if I don’t remind her about them,” she hopes. There’s a possibility, isn’t there, at least until there’s another chance to get away?
“I promise.”
“And what is it that you promise, pet?”
“I promise to sit here until you come back.”
“Very good. I just might have something special for you when I return, if you’ve been good.” With that she straightens to her full height and exits the room, locking the door behind her with a chime. Finally alone and without xenodrugs in her system, Olivia has some time to think. She roars and then shakes her head in hopes of freeing the rest of her thoughts. It isn’t especially effective, but she still feels better after. She was feeling rigid after so long in one position.
Looking around again, nothing had changed. A string of Affini characters decorates a small space in front of her, possibly a clock. She doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s probably evening, going by what Verda said.
Olivia flexes her toes and feet. They feel a little funny somehow. She can’t figure out why or what was going on with them. They look normal, even if they’re unfamiliar after so long in the pilot’s tank. Her back ached a little as well, and her chest. Is that really all bruising, she wonders? Would the affini take to for a proper checkup without punishing her with more xenodrugs for the audacity of asking? A side effect of the shampoo, perhaps?
She doesn’t have time to think in too much depth because Verda returns quite soon, carrying a box in her arms. Olivia can’t smell anything from it, but she’s sure it’s her next meal. She sits up as the box lands on the table, eager to find out what it might be.
With a flurry of greenish tendrils the box is open and a tray of rice and some sauce is in front of the human. There’s also a bottle of the drinking water, which is opened before it reaches her place. A small box is set in front of Verda, probably her dinner. The other contents of the box are distributed to various cabinets, almost all out of Olivia’s reach.
“Tomato curry and long grain rice,” Verda declares proudly.
Olivia breathes in the delicious scent of fresh food. No wonder this took time, she thinks. It’s certainly suitable for humans. She looks around the table but can’t find a fork. She looks questioningly at the affini opposite her.
“Am I supposed to eat with my hands?”
“No, of course not. But if you remember, the last time you got your hands on a utensil you tried to stab me. When I took that away, you bit me. I’ll be feeding you tonight, little one.”
The affini takes a wooden fork from somewhere she’d hidden it, displaying it for Olivia to see. Olivia’s ears burn with humiliation. Yet again, she has no real options. Either way, she would be diminished just a little as a prisoner. The plate steams in front of her and it smells better than anything she’s smelled in a very long time. The herbs joining the tomato make her mouth water in a way she knows isn’t a result of xeno machinations.
She looks up at the tall xeno, who shifts her chair closer, so they’re almost sitting next to one another. Verda smiles and puts a hand gently on Olivia’s shoulder. This time she’s composed enough not to yelp. Without further discussion, the fork goes through the plate of rice and rises toward Olivia’s mouth, pausing a few centimeters away. She watches Olivia patiently. She clearly isn’t hungry, so she has all the time in the world.
“If you’d rather use your hands I won’t stop you,” she adds, helpfully.
Tempted, Olivia has to push away the thought of taking a bite from the fork in front of her. It looks so good, but she banishes the thought.
“I am a free Terran. I can eat by myself.” She sticks her hand into the messy plate and delivers a dripping handful of the meal to her mouth. Of course it’s delicious. It tastes like corn and green beans, and some other vegetables are in there too, as well as a starchy plant she can’t identify. She takes another handful, and another. Before long the plate is clean and she empties the water bottle beside it in a few gulps. There aren’t any napkins so she wipes off her hand on the ridiculous outfit she had been forced into against her will. She defies her servitude with a confident look. That feels much better. Meanwhile, Verda is not trying especially hard to disguise a smirk.
“Yes, darling. I see you know how to eat, just like you know how to bathe yourself. Terrans can eat with their hands and use their shirts as napkins very skilfully. Truly a remarkable civilization. It’s a wonder we were able to make headway against you at all, with weapons as formidable as your teeth.”
“I know how to use a fork, you know. If you’d given me one I would have eaten with it.”
“That, or you would have hurt yourself with it. And now your clothes are all dirty. It’s fortunate it’s nearly bedtime or I might have been forced to give you another bath.”
Olivia shudders. Horrifying… mostly? She refuses to let herself contemplate such things.
“I’d like my old clothes.”
“What, the rags you were wearing before? I’m not sure it would even be possible to wear those any more. You look very cute in what you’re wearing. Isn’t that enough?”
“These aren’t Terran clothes. They’re wrong. They’re just wrong.”
“I can’t do anything about that. I’m sorry, pet. Perhaps when your domestication is complete you can make something for yourself. That would be a productive hobby.”
There was that word. Domestication. A chill passes through Olivia’s heart as she remembers everything she was taught in the Navy about the process. Of course, that’s what’s been happening for her entire stay on this transport, but hearing it called that so openly is still disturbing..
“Still, you’ve been mostly well behaved today. You came back on your own and you sat at the table when you promised you would. Since your second day in my care has gone so well, I’ve decided you deserve a treat.”
She lifts the top from the box in front of her, revealing a brown triangle with powder and an amber fluid on top of it. She pushes it in Olivia’s direction.
“This is a mineral enriched sucrose and carbohydrate bar. I believe it’s called a carrot cake. If you had let me feed you I was prepared to let you eat this yourself with the fork, but I’m not sure you can be trusted with it yet. If you’d like this dessert I would be happy to feed it to you, and perhaps tomorrow we can see if you’re ready to eat with Affini table manners?”
“Fine.” The cake looks even better than the curry had. A fresh carroty smell with a hint of cinnamon drifts to Olivia’s nose, and the honey looks real. There must be at least a teaspoon. That’s at least a month’s salary, she estimates. Especially since the recession preceding the war, real honey had been a luxury good.
The plate in front of Olivia would probably sell for more than she’s worth in a restaurant. Was worth, she corrects herself. No doubt her possessions had been confiscated with her capture report. If the Affini Compact was abolishing free commerce, did that mean she was broke anyway? She snaps back to the present and remembers that none of that matters. Right now, she’s here, staring down an afterthought from her captor worth more than she is, even free.
She glances at Verda, who she knows is faster. Distraction is impossible, she’s already tried that once today. So the only way not to let something like this slip away…
Olivia nods.
The delighted affini by her side cuts a small piece of the cake and carefully lifts it toward her captive’s mouth. Bracing herself against the shame of it, Olivia opens her mouth and leans forward slightly. The cake goes in and the fork comes out.
The cake is even more delicious than the dinner had been. So many spices, and real sugar on the top! She takes a long minute to savor every nuance of the carrot cake, only swallowing once she could no longer taste it.
“Fuck… So good,” she sighs.
“We’ll have to work on your language some other time. For now I think we should focus on your table manners. Are you ready for another bite?”
Olivia eagerly nods, and her captor brings another forkful to her mouth. Her eyes go wide as she feels a droplet of honey stick to her tongue. The taste is obvious even against the cake beneath it. The honey is sweet, but something else too. It tastes like sugar and flowers and fruit. It’s one of the best sensations of her life.
Verda breaks into a wide smile, seeing how happy her ward has become from such a simple thing. This is what domestication is about, the joy that Affini are able to share with their florets.
By now Olivia is far too preoccupied with the food in front of her to remember her Terran pride. She downs the cake as quickly as Verda is willing to feed it to her.
When there’s no more, they make eye contact, smiling at one another. Olivia checks herself mentally, and decides there weren’t any xenodrugs, it was just food. Maybe it’s just a bribe with which to steal military secrets, but it was real and filling food that Verda didn’t have to provide. It meant something.
“Very good, my wonderful little pet. Was that so hard? Things are so much easier when you don’t resist. Well, I’m glad you enjoyed your nutrient brick. There’s something I would like to talk about. Are you awake enough for that?”
Truthfully, Olivia is wide awake and ready for just about anything. The xenodrugs in her system depleted, her stomach full of well made food, her body clean except for her shirt, a feeling of wellbeing is lifting her mood. She shouldn’t admit that to the xeno, though. It might encourage her to do more of the unpleasant things that she’d already done, or worse.
“I’m awake, but I will never be your pet.”
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Cellulose & Steel