Trading Post

Evelyn saw her daughter awake and put down her book before going over and gently making her presence known, "hey there sweetie are you feeling any better, did you have a good nap?" Evelyn asked as she unlocked the crib bars and lowered them down.

"(But it seems) Benign."-Fallout 3

Hot dogs and fries when I get off work. Need to clear out some more supplies for my grocery run Friday morning.

Thanks for the comment. Yes, they have. In this chapter, Lucas made Clara happy. In Chapter 10, Clara will make Lucas happy. But you'll have to wait for the chapter to find out how.

Chapter three "And you, tonight, have not been a good girl." Her hand still holds my wrist. She's about to speak, but I hear footsteps. Someone enters through the front door. "Angela? Did you make it—" She stops. Sees me. "Wow, Ang. You didn't tell me she was this small." "Bridget. Come in and close the door." My heart pounds. Another Amazon. Younger than Angela, short hair, a curious gaze that scans me from head to toe. She stops next to Angela. Crosses her arms. — Bridget steps closer. Whistles softly. "Angela. Now that's class." I ignore Bridget. Keep my eyes on Anna. I feel her shift under my grip. A tremor. An attempt. I don't look away. I don't turn toward Bridget. But I know. "Anna." My voice flat. Not raised. "I saw that." "Stubborn, huh?" says Bridget. I don't answer. I keep my eyes on Anna. "I told you — that's for good girls. And so far, all you've done is prove you're not one." I lean down. Grab her ankles. Lift. "Now stay still. And if you're good, maybe — maybe — you'll get what you're looking for." She gives a small, shy smile before turning her face away. She doesn't want me to see her blush. I reach into the bag. Hear the tab peeling off the wipe. Cool against her cheeks. I wipe several times. Slowly. Carefully. She doesn't speak. Doesn't turn. But her breathing changes. Becomes less tense. I toss the wipe. Open the diaper. "See," I say softly. "That wasn't so hard. Staying still. Obeying." I lift her hips with one hand. Slide the diaper underneath with the other. White padding against her skin. "Bridget, can you hand me the cream?" She reaches out. The tube. Doesn't let go right away. "I'll give it to you on one condition — I get to watch until the end." "You're already watching." "I mean until the very very end." I take the tube. Don't answer. Open the cap. Squeeze a small amount onto my index finger. "Bridget. Bring the light closer." The lamp shifts. Darkness and light exchange places. My finger touches her skin. The cream is cold. She flinches. "Stay still." The movement is slow. Circular. The outer ring, tightening gradually toward the center. Each circle closer. More intimate. Then I feel it — her surrender. The weight of her body giving in. The tension making room for something else. "Good girl." The word comes out softer than I intended. I don't correct it. "Do you want it, Anna?" She doesn't answer. Doesn't meet my eyes. Her ears are burning, red as the rest of her face. Silence. I lean in slightly. Brush her cheek with the back of my hand. Her skin is warm. "I'm asking you something, Anna. You don't have to say anything complicated. Just yes or no." I stay there. My hand still on her cheek. Waiting. Behind me, Bridget doesn't move. The whole room holds its breath. "Can I take that silence as a yes?" She nods. Then covers her face with her hands. Instinctive. Like a child caught doing something forbidden. "Bridget." I don't turn around. "Go sit on the couch. And don't move." Her footsteps retreat. The couch creaks. I lean over Anna. Take her wrists. Gently. "Take your hands away." She doesn't move. "Anna. Take your hands away. I want to see your face." She obeys. Eyes wet. Cheeks flushed. I look at her. "You said yes. So listen to me now." The cream is still on the tip of my finger. "I'll give you what you asked for. But I want you to stay still. Don't cover yourself. And look at me." A pause. "Can you do that?" She looks at me. For a moment she doesn't say anything. Then her voice comes. Small. Different. I tighten my fingers around her wrists. Then let go. "That's okay," I tell her. "You don't need to understand anything tonight." I take her chin. My fingertips on her warm skin. "Do you remember what you said earlier? That I hadn't caught you yet. That day I'd only brush the Cat of Karales." I lower my voice. Almost a whisper. "Well, the Cat of Karales just nodded." My thumb brushes her lower lip. "You don't need to understand anything. You just need to let it happen."