Then she winced.“You okay?” “I need to go sort something out.”“You’re not in pain, are you?”“Oh, dad. No. It’s just my boobs are ach...ng. They’re full and I need to pump.”“Oh,” I said, my face flushing red.She giggled and went upstairs.A few minutes passed, and I barely got out to the shed before Sam called for me.“Dad? Can you come here a second?” she called out of the window.I went upstairs, and a knocked on the bedroom door and entered. The moment I saw her, my eyes went wide, and I spun. When I blinked the tears out of my eyes, I saw who it was. Ms. Jameson, the drama coach. She was young, for a teacher. Twenty-something. Just out of college on her first teaching job. Short, dark red hair (obviously colored), cut to her chin. She was taller than me, and she was wearing a white blouse with a light grey skirt, and heels. She startled too when she saw me, obviously expecting there to be no one in here. “Hey,” she said when she saw it was me. “Hey,” I said, still drying my eyes. “I. It did not touch her reptilian eyes. “To discard something that is whole and strong, that is still functional, is a waste that only the powerful and the rich can afford.”“I think slaves are for pleasure,” I said. “Mine. My brother’s. My sister’s. That’s the point of slaves.”“They’re not proof of your brother’s virility?” asked the empress. “Proof that he’s better than them. That he can bend their feeble will to him.”“They’re not proof of anything. They’re are beloved pets.” I smiled at my. He was sorely tempted to run her down and just take her. Sorely, sorely tempted. He shifted his package again.But the day was just beginning and the young husband and wife had apparently found a new game to play. Cop and Dodge? Hands, Hands, Hands? Squeeze and Tease? Maybe they'd come up with a name for it. Or maybe not.***At around two, Stacy was making the bed after doing the laundry. When she straightened and turned, Jared was in the doorway, watching her. His eyes were slow to rise from.
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