The fruit comes toward me again. I pick up my hand. The fruit stops. I set my hand back in my lap.
Razul holds it up to my mouth.
My tentative reach is once again punished, so I open my mouth.
Razul places the fruit on my tongue.
Oh.
I slowly chew, letting the tangy sweetness fill my mouth.
Fuck, I’m hungry.
When Razul offers the next piece, I hesitantly open my mouth, carefully confirming it’s the same type of fruit as before.
The wedge lands smoothly on my tongue.
Across the table, a similar scene plays out: Andromeda lies in a silk sling across Sylvus’s chest, eating seeds from his palm.
His other hand absently grips one of her breasts, stroking with his thumb. Her chest is a good deal larger than it was yesterday, and her cheeks are rosy, her gaze unfocused.
She looks so happy.
Could I really experience that too?
Piece by piece, I slowly relax. The unintelligible conversation and Andromeda’s relaxed state put me at ease.
I get into the rhythm of opening my mouth as soon as I finish chewing a piece, and another lands swiftly in its place, chipping away at this new, unfamiliar hunger. I used to be able to go a whole day without remembering to eat. Now, my watering mouth threatens to overflow.
My gaze wanders. I think we’re eating breakfast in Sylvus’s kitchen. A wall of silk cubbies holds most of an intricate tea set,lit by warm light. Two of the matching cups sit on the taut silk panel that serves as the table between Sylvus and Razul.
I’m trying to figure out if the metal panel I see is a stove when something mushy and bitter lands on my tongue: a different type of fruit.
Visceral disgust overwhelms me with a full-body gag, followed by a wave of horror. Oh no.
I haven’t reacted that outwardly to a food since I was a kid. My guard was completely down, and now Razul will see what a difficult eater I am and won’t want me anymore.
I force myself to chew, suppressing another gag.
Razul’s hand suddenly grips my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. His finger swipes through, large but precise, removing the offensive fruit from my mouth.
Another wedge lands on my tongue, and he pushes my jaw shut, releasing the familiar sweet flavor to wash the bitterness away.
I sit there stunned, reflexively chewing, shocked that my distress has been resolved so swiftly.
I’m not forced to swallow, to try it three more times to prove I really don’t like it, not assigned the food for the next week as ‘exposure therapy.’
I glance up at Razul but see only apology on his face, and his fingers land behind my ear, massaging gently. I relax into his touch, eyelids drooping, unable to resist the soothing effect he has on me.
There’s a quiet whimper across the table.
Andromeda’s breasts are now visibly larger, and Sylvus’s thumb slides around the edge of her areola, visible through her translucent silk dress. A wet spot spreads from her nipple, and her blush drips down her neck to the top of her chest.
Her eyes flutter as she lets out a sighing moan.
Sylvus and Razul exchange a few words, then Sylvus stands and starts to leave the room.
Andromeda musters just enough focus to wave at me before Sylvus pinches her nipple, making her head tip back as she yelps with surprise and pleasure.
