Lost somewhere in the outer rim of the universe, on a yellow and tan, dusty, desert planet called Alblossca. A place where two suns rose in tandem, hours apart, making the days long and hot, where no moon graced the brief night sky. With a landscape of large rolling dunes, that shifted in harsh winds that swept around the planet-often burying entire settlements overnight-and dry canyons were carved by those winds and ever-shifting sands.
The planet had no central government, instead, there were several city-states. All were built upon large plateaus, which was where the only sources of water on the planet came up from beneath the surface. Over many millennia the rivers that flowed had curved out some of those great canyons in the landscape. Holding the only plant life that grew on this otherwise desolate world. Within the protective walls, the indignant inhabitants used to call those once lush canyons home. Now the city-states had taken over all but one of the plateaus, that one was too tall to use, as the atmosphere was too thin for most to survive. The cities were ruled by the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of ruthless warlords that had nearly wiped out the indigenous clans of the Ocserian lizard people.
At one time, when the first settlers, Zaffarians, came to this planet, they lived in peace with the Oscerians and chose not to terraform the planet because it was inhabited. The Zaffarians settled on the plateaus, only using what they needed to live comfortably alongside the Ocserians.
Eventually, the uglier side of expansion reached them. With it, the peaceful Zaffarians were removed from power and replaced with the militaristic Niso race. They were bulky, greyish purple-skinned aliens with blocky features and bitter dispositions. The Nisoites enslaved other races and they did the same to any of the Zaffarians and Oscerians that opposed their rule. Building high walls around the Zaffarian settlements and expanding them into cities that exceeded the capacity for the springs, causing the canyons to dry up. This led to the wars with the native clans and over the last century, the Oscerians suffered the most, and still to this day it is believed there are no remaining clans.
The aridness created by the lack of water running over the surface created massive storms ten times the size of the previous ones. Now dust and sandstorms capable of burying entire canyons kicked up nightly around the city-states, threatening the outskirts with dust layers that needed to be cleared off homes and businesses frequently. With each passing year, the high walls did less and less to keep the sea of sands at bay.
In one of those large plateau cities, near the eastern edge, close to the walls, and just off the main thoroughfare used by traders, merchants, and ranchers alike was a larger hodge-podge structure. It was a tavern and gambling hall, connected to a garage and three storage units to make up the first floor. In the center and sticking up three more stories was a house that had a few random rooms slapped onto the outside of its walls on the upper two levels. In the highest make-shift room, a young woman of seventeen lay sleeping in her small bed.
Images raced through her head; black flames of shimmering strands, billowing red silken fabric, eyes that shone like the darkest metal, and a devilish smirk. Those smirking lips whispered to her; words she couldn't understand. Yet they were also words that needed no translation, for the longing and loneliness in them was palpable, causing her heart to seize painfully. One phrase pierced the haze of her sleep-muddled mind, making her sit up and bring her hands to cover the cry she wanted to let out.
… Kakumei… Mkami… Engishade naye, ongunaphakade…
Breathing heavily she let the words whisper across her mind again, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down her spine. It wasn't the first time she had seen those images and heard the unintelligible words in her sleep, but it was the first time the words in her mother's language had flitted across her senses. Who was this mysterious dream ghost that called her wife and mate? Why did she recognize the first word? It didn't belong to any language she knew, yet she still felt she recognized it somehow, from somewhere. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed she stood and stretched, enjoying the popping sounds of her spine re-aligning after her fitful sleep.
Her room was a small space not deep enough to fit her bed the opposite way if she wished it, barely enough room to fit a second bed beside the one she had. There was a mirror on the wall and one small table under it, near the foot of her bed. The wall where the door sat was made of clay fashioned from the same yellow dust that made up this planet. The outer walls were pieces of roughly welded metal with a tiny barred window in it at the center of her pallet. Once a small balcony, it had been transformed into an extra room. Which made it the smallest room in the whole establishment for the single fact that she was not yet of age to service customers.
'What was that word?' She asked herself trying to grasp at it, but the word slipped through her fingers like the sand in the dunes, only leaving her with pieces. ' Kekumi? Kaku- Kakume? Kukami? No! Why can't I remember it?'
Whining in annoyance she stomped over to her mirror and looked at herself this morning. Her violet hair hung long down her back in a braid but it was messy and frizzy around her heart-shaped head. She was dressed only in black short-shorts and a black sports bra. Wiping the sleep from her eyes she met her own gaze and stared into her azure eyes, a rare color for her kind. Her pouty lips frowned deeper as she looked at her own reflection and wrinkled her small button nose.
"What are you doing with your life? Pining over a man that has only ever appeared in your dreams?" she asked herself. "You do not need any man to save you from this place, you'll find a way to get free on your own."
"Kolirabi!" came a booming voice from the hallway. "Bee you better be awake, you useless girl! We have customers waiting, and there are backorders to complete."
"Y-yes, Master Nash!" Bee replied, jumping back towards her bed to be as far away from the man that stood on the other side of her door, as she possibly could be. "I'm almost dressed. I'll be down in a few seconds." She lied in a sickly sweet and timid voice to get him away from her. It was when her fire shone that he tried to dominate her. Repressing her feisty nature was slowly killing her.
"I don't pay you to sleep all day!" The Nisoite man shouted from outside the door as he marched back down the hall.
"You don't pay me at all," Bee grumbled under her breath.
She was a slave, sold to this brothel and garage owner in order to pay off her mother's debt. Her mother had been enslaved by the ruler of this city and she had died shortly after, leaving Bee to be sold off at the age of seven. Now she was all alone, orphaned on a planet without trees or rain, things she had never seen, but for publications, and what haunted her dreams, just like black flaming hair and shining obsidian eyes. Thinking about it again she shivered and turned it into a shake to get herself out of her own head.
Rushing to get dressed she bound her chest to hide her developing curves and pulled on her tan jumpsuit. Her tail wriggling its way through its hole completely on its own, Bee zipped up the front and tied a cloth around her head to hide her wild hair. Then slipped on her boots and tied them, while her tail wrapped her waist. Finally, she plucked her tool belt from the hook near her door and buckled it around her hips, below her tail, and then exited her room into the noisy house.
She needed to get to the garage, fast, before anyone noticed she was out of her room. Bypassing the kitchen, even though she was starving, Bee avoided the others. They had never accepted her, she was too powerful, too smart, too strong-willed. All of this made the other slaves either jealous or afraid, usually both. She also avoided them because she knew that the master had plans for her and they were all too similar to the fate of the other slaves. One of them was always pregnant. The children were sold as slaves while the mothers had to keep the tavern patrons satisfied. Bee would rely on the generosity of the customers at the garage to feed her, that was where most of her food had come from over the last ten years.
Bee considered herself lucky that her race didn't become physically mature until their twenties. Some ancient genetic security measure to ensure a mature and strong mother to bear a Saiyan warrior. As an extra added measure Bee had decided that if she didn't eat as much as her body demanded, she wouldn't grow, and could continue to lie about her age-claiming to be two years younger than she really was-but lately certain parts of her anatomy were growing regardless of her malnourishment. In any other life, she would've thanked her mother for blessing her with such a feminine body, but not this one. She wanted to look like a boy and that was why she had taken to binding her chest while she worked. Also, the jumpsuit wouldn't cover her if she didn't, and she had been told when it was given to her that when she grew out of it she would be big enough to become a whore. Hopping out the window at the end of the hall she swung from that windowsill to a beam two stories down and about ten feet to the east, then to the lower roof of the parts storage building, before slinking into the garage unseen.
As usual, her master had lied, there was no line of customers waiting. Just the jobs she had lined up to be picked up that day and it was a little under an hour before the first one would be arriving.
'Lying pig,' she spat at the packed earthen ground . 'At least this way I can work on my own project.' Bee thought wistfully gazing at the device that sat on the low shelf beside her workbench. Grabbing it as she walked by, on her way to her seat, she set it gently on the table and sat down to work.
All slaves were implanted at the time of their birth, or enslavement, with a device that prevented them from running away. The mechanism was placed at the base of the skull, against the brainstem. If they left a preset proximity radius it would electrify the nervous system rendering the slave immobile until they could be retrieved. If somehow, a slave managed to get far enough away fast enough, like stowing away in a vehicle, the shock would be ten times stronger and fry the slave's brain; killing them. More expensive models had tracking capabilities for fast retrieval of said runaway slaves, but overall once someone's life was sold for a few coins they were treated more like herd animals with brands than sentient beings.
Bee was certain hers was cheap, and hoped she was right because she had spent years trying to override it. The young Saiyan female had been working on a device to block the receiver in her implant, and if she was caught, she would be tortured and one of her feet would be cut off. It was the typical punishment for runaway slaves from the brothels. With her recent breakthroughs in understanding an ancient tech that she had been tasked with repairing, Bee had everything she needed to complete the blocker.
As what often happened while she worked diligently on her projects, Bee lost track of time. Before she knew it an hour had passed. So absorbed by her work she didn't notice the shadow that darkened the open door, or the tapping of a cane as the owner of that shadow entered the garage.
"You were late again, weren't ya girl?" A raspy voice asked from behind the young mechanic.
Bee froze at first but turned to face the little old woman as she spoke. "Hey Nan, are you here for your capsule speeder?"
The little woman nodded and sat down on the stool at the counter, resting the handle of her cane over her thigh. She was barely four feet tall, her white hair always pulled back into a bun, pulling the skin on her head to give her amber eyes a more slanted appearance. She had dark tanned skin, Bee didn't know if it was a natural hue or the result of living on this desert planet her whole life, and she didn't care either way. The older woman always wore old mechanics coveralls zipped up to her navel and a pink shirt underneath. Her canteen was slung over her shoulder and she carried a pack with her today. This woman was Bee's oldest friend in more than one way and the girl smiled brightly in greeting.
"Is it finished then?" Nan asked, inspecting the device Bee had been so enthralled with. It was normally very hard to sneak up on the young Saiyan.
"Yeah, It's hard to find the parts for those things in this quadrant, but I think I figured out how they are manufactured. The person that made these was a freakin' genius, I wish I could've met them." Bee said, handing the small capsule to the old woman.
"I think they were created on a planet in the Surian quadrant, someplace called Herth, I believe. They are very ancient," Nan explained while she pulled out a box of food that had taken up more than half her pack, and set it on the counter. "Yet they changed the way things in the entire universe are shipped. So much so, that the tech behind them hasn't changed in over a thousand years." Nan added pulling out her metallic chips to pay for the repairs, which she had to insert into the wall-mounted machine after Bee typed in the work order code.
"Nan, you always know so much about foreign tech," Bee said leaning over the counter and resting her chin on the heel of one hand to listen to Nan ramble on about tech, while her other hand pulled the box over and opened it to devour the contents.
"If these fingers still worked I would still be tinkering away with these things myself." Nan said, rubbing her arthritic knuckles. "Most days I miss it something fierce. That feeling of being useful and accomplishing work most don't have the patience for."
"If you could still work then you wouldn't need me to fix anything for you, and you are my only reprieve from the perverts waiting to take their turn once I'm forced into working the rooms in the tavern." Bee said bitterly, straightened up, and returned to her work.
Nan tutted, "I woulda still been needing an apprentice mind ya, and I would've been glad to have one as gifted as you girl." Nan smiled when Bee peered over her shoulder at the elderly woman before putting her goggles back on to resume her work. It was a shame, the girl had such promise to be more than just a whore. Nan had tried to buy the Bee four years ago but her owner wouldn't relinquish his rights. The girl was lucky her species didn't reach maturity until two decades of age, but it drove a wedge between her and the other women she lived with, whose maturity was reached at much younger and less developed stages. So Nan had decided to spend as much time with the girl as she could, to give her someone to confide in, someone that was something like family. "There is a rumor about a god from that place, Herth, supposedly he was a prince in his mortal life and he saved his wife by becoming a god."
"Another fairy tale Nan, you know those stories aren't true, gods aren't mortals." Bee debated, Nan had two topics she couldn't shut up about, one was engineering, the other was fairytales.
"That's not true for some of them, I know Kia's are born immortals but there are some gods that are chosen to become deities." Nan informed the young woman, engineering had been her life, deities were her secret obsession. "And there are rumors now, that this god searches the universe for something, or someone." She then paused and took a sip from her canteen for dramatic effect.
"Is that right?" Bee asked, not really caring, it was more reflex when Nan told these tales to her.
"It is." she said in all seriousness, "I hear tell he's checking the outer rim planets and trade ports for someone with mechanical know-how. Maybe he'll make it here and you might impress him." Nan smirked at the disgusted look on Bee's face.
"More fairy tales, Nan." Bee dismissed the old biddies' tall tale.
"Hush girl," Nan said stubbornly. "Your handi-work rivals mine when I was in my prime."
"Nan, I am not that good, not yet." Bee said, turning to face the old woman. "No God is going to come sweep me off my feet, even I know that much, and there is no point in waiting for that day to come."
"You still chewing her ear off Nan?" a boy of twelve asked from the garage door. "Mom wanted you to come right back, and here I find you fillin' Bee's head with fanciful ideas," he added, winking at Bee as he stepped over the threshold and brushed the dust from the street off his knees.
"Hope is never a bad thing," Nan huffed at both youths. "You would do well to remember that," she added pointing at Bee. "You to Beda," she flicked her wrist in the boy's direction.
"Beda did you fall in the street?" Bee asked, watching the five and a half foot tall green lizard humanoid swat the dust out of his clothes.
Glaring at Bee his green eyes flashed with embarrassment as his cheeks turned a darker shade of green, "I didn't fall, Razzor thought it would be funny to shove me into a merchant stand."
"Again!?" Nan exclaimed, "Boy when are you gonna stand up for yourself?" she asked, furious this kid lacked a backbone.
"Well, normally Bee takes care of it for me." he said bashfully, his tail swishing nervously behind him while he looked at the young Saiyan female through his lashes.
"You can't always count on her to be cleaning up your messes." Nan scolded as she stood from the stool she had been perched on.
"I trust her." Beda admitted.
"But putting faith in others is futile, the only person I can rely on in this life is myself." Bee said coldly
She knew Beda had a crush on her and she had always done everything she could to dissuade him from this infatuation. Bee was a slave, destined to be a whore. Beda was the son of a poor rancher that lived on the outskirts of the city. There could never be anything between them because she would never be able to give him what he deserved; a wife, a family. Hell, she was certain their species weren't even compatible.
Beda said nothing at first. He only looked at her back, hurt radiating off of him the longer Bee ignored him. She never turned around, simply shifting this way and that as she tinkered away on yet another project. How he wished he could get even a fraction of that attention shifted to him, then maybe she would see everything he could offer her. After a minute he spoke.
"I'm off, Mom wanted me to pick up a few things at the Bio office for her. Don't stay too long Nan, them bulls are still missing and we need all the eyes we can get lookin' for 'em." Beda said then slipped back out into the dusty streets.
"That was really harsh Bee," Nan snapped as soon as the boy was gone.
"Nan," the Saiyan girl said, putting her instruments down and lifting her goggles up as she turned to look into the wrinkled old face of her friend. "What aspects of my life and my future scream hope for young love?"
"I told you already hope-"
"'Is never a bad thing' yeah, I heard you, but that doesn't change the fact that he is holding on to hope for a fantasy that can never be!" Bee's voice got louder as her distress over her plight grew, power surged and swirled around her rattling the tables and shelves before she reigned it back in. Sighing heavily she continued, "no god and no rancher's son are gonna save me from my fate. I gotta do it for myself, if I can change it, it has to be me that does it."
"Well if you keep being late to the shop you'll never finish your project, before..." Nan didn't finish, she hated thinking about what might happen to this strong vibrant woman when Nash and his men finally decided to break her in.
"I am late because I sneak down here at night and work in secret." Bee added with a sympathetic look for her friend that only wanted to see her rise out of this life.
"Don't make habits or schedules," Nan said with her hands on her hips.
"I know, I know, that's how I'll get caught," Bee said, walking over to see Nan out. Wrapping her arm around the woman's shoulders she walked slowly with her to the door. "On the bright side," she said smiling down at her friend, "even if I do get caught that idiot wouldn't know what I was working on. He can barely tell the difference between a toaster and an auxiliary combustion equalizer."
They both stopped and looked at each other before bursting into pearls of laughter. The irony of the owner of an engineering garage not knowing the first thing about technology, was not lost on them. Still chuckling, Bee hugged Nan and thanked her for her visit and the food.
Bee spent the rest of her day working on her secret project. Customers came and went, most picking up their finished repairs, a few came in browsing some of the gadgets she had refurbished and now had up for sale. The local butcher came in with the engine for his blade sharpener to be repaired, it was an easy task, and Bee had it finished before the end of her day. She even got a few new accounts for the garage, a warehouse that needed some on-site maintenance and she had to send them up to the tavern to make an appointment. Because just like with the money chips, slaves were not allowed to make their schedules.
When the sun was low in the sky and the garage door fell into the shadows of the neighboring buildings, Bee locked up from the inside and went into the tavern kitchen through the rear door in the garage. It was busy inside and the cook bustled around barking orders at the other workers. Bee tried to slip through unnoticed so she could sneak a small meal before starting her usual nightly shift as the bus girl and dishwasher.
"Bee, get into your uniform, they need you out there pronto!" the cook barked.
The young Saiyan had just reached the side door that opened to a staircase that led up to the rooms. It was the back way for all the whores to have food delivered to them without it passing through the busy tavern. She sighed and nodded then ran up the stairs as fast as she could to the top floor, and her room.
Stripping out of her coveralls Bee used her tiny washbasin to clean the grease and sweat off her body. Then she took off her shorts and changed into her night uniform, before returning to the main floor.
The air inside the tavern was thick with the smoke from that many pipes and rolls lit around the room. Calls and orders for service were hollered out from the tables as the half-naked women rushed between them taking orders and being groped by the drunken men. More than a few of the men at the tables had whores sat upon their laps already. Those women were dressed in sheer shimmering gowns and fancy dresses. The women rushing around were few but they were whores most nights, tonight however they were dressed in serving attire; similar to a french maid's. With the higher volume of customers, several of them had to be designated barmaids until the rush died down. This also meant there was no way Bee could avoid working the floor with them.
Just because she wasn't of age yet, that didn't stop men from grabbing her or manhandling her. Some would pull her onto their laps and kiss her roughly while she made the rounds, collecting empty glasses and the orders to refill them. It was her least favorite night of the week, tomorrow wouldn't be much better and she was likely to have a few bruises on her thighs and arms after the weekend. The drunker the patrons got, the rougher they were with her, but she was thankful all the same, that touching, was all the men were permitted to do with her.
Bee endured hours of this treatment, going inside herself so she wouldn't feel the hands that roamed her body or the slimy tongues that sometimes probed her mouth. Forcing her body to feel nothing and be numb had been the one thing her mother had taught her before she died. Saiyan tales were incredibly sensitive and training oneself mentally to block those nerve endings from overruling her movements was crucial in this cruel life. Bee had taken that training a step further by tricking her mind into not feeling what happened to her flesh. It was dangerous though, she could hurt herself and barely notice, so she made an effort to try to evade the grabbing hands instead of living in that meditative mindset. Luckily, she was fast. and could get out of reach from most that did grab for her. That wasn't saying much though, because everyone that didn't have both hands full, grabbed for her, and that was half the people on the floor.
Nash sat in the darkened corner near his office with a few of his associates, and one of his many whores perched upon his lap. He watched Bee as she worked, the outfit she had on was fitting her tighter than usual. A wicked smile broke out across his face, the little Saiyan girl was almost ready to become a woman and start her real life's work.
"That young one there has filled out nicely. When are you going to break her in?" a sleek man with deep orange hair tied back in a braid asked, his animalistic eyes peered out from the darkened corner to observe the young violet-haired woman rushing around from table to table.
"Soon, with that body, it's time she learned how to really work it." Nash leered at the girl.
"Are you taking the pleasure yourself or will she be auctioned like all your other virgins?"
"I haven't decided yet. I could use the payday, that's for certain, the garage isn't bringing in much income these days, what with fewer traders venturing out here to the frontier. Even the whores are taking a hit from it." Groping the woman in his lap he licked up her chest while holding her at his mercy with his strong thick fingers wrapped around her neck from behind. "Ain't that right baby?"
"Sure is Master Nash," The woman moaned as she did what all of them had to do when Nash wanted their attention. Simply let him have his way.
"You got an offer you'd like to make?" Nash asked the man sitting in the shadows.
"She is certainly a meek little thing, she'll need lots of training. Could I have her for the night?"
"If I get her back alive." Nash chuckled.
"Of course, I would not strip your fine establishment of such a rare specimen. I think I would like to enjoy her again."
"Make your offer then, friend ." Nash grinned a sharp-toothed grin.
Eventually, the hustle and bustle died down and she was able to wash dishes as a means of taking a break from the insanity. Bee enjoyed this part of her job, it gave her time to come out of her headspace and just feel again. She ran her fingers over the dishes as she cleaned them, checking for any particles left behind, and would scrub them away. Marveling in the slippery texture of the soap, and how it contrasted with the coarse, rough grain of the dish scrubby. Feeling the difference between the warm water, and the hot sanitized dishes as she shifted to staking them to cool down. At this stage, she would again feel for anything she might have missed on the smooth surfaces of the dishes, placing the nearly burning dish into the warm water that felt cold by comparison. The entire chore was like a mantra for her, one that returned her awareness to her own body.
Halfway through her task, one of the more popular whores came into the kitchen through the back steps. She was a classic beauty for the Zaffarian settler species of this planet, tall and thin, with flowing golden hair, sharp angular features on her rectangular face, accented by a small but full heart-shaped mouth, and prominent amber eyes. She was wearing a silver shift that was nearly see-through and her long curls and make-up was all a miss from the exertions of her job requirements.
"Ugh, what are you doing in here? I need food and drink in my room, these men are insatiable tonight." Xeon said, sneering down her nose at the shorter and younger woman.
"I need her washin' those damn dishes Xeon!" the cook barked from where he sat enjoying a smoke by the open window. "Take your customers' food and drink yer damn self, ya lazy whore. You already down here." There were pre-arranged trays piled with food, cups, and a bottle already laid out for the women to have quick access.
Bee didn't engage, she had been feeling unsettled all day and this woman always pushed her buttons. Continuing with her task with an internal monologue of all the different components that she had carefully inserted into her project today. Reliving the steps in her head while she cleaned and washed the dishes.
"How dare you talk like that to me," Xeon screeched, marching over to the cook, who still hadn't left his seat. "Do you have any idea who I am?"
"A whored-out-slave," the cook stated.
Xeon gasped, placing her hand over her chest and taking a step back. As if she was offended by the cook's comment, even though it was the most simple truth. Looking at the woman the cook allowed his gaze to travel her body, his tired, almost bored, expression never changing.
"One daddy probably sold ta pay his debts to that loan shark of a boss we have." he said, and again the woman made an offended sound, but he just took another drag off his smoke.
"Ho-how did you…?" she stammered.
"Sweetheart it's written all over yer face, and in that shitty-ass attitude, you got. Daddy liked ta spoil ya. He also liked to pretend he had money, but he didn't have no luck. Now, his little girl is a whore and I bet he still wound up dead in a gutter somewhere 'cause he would rather give you up, than give up his one love...the tables." he just glared at the whore before him, not allowing any of his thoughts show in his features.
Xeon didn't say anything, she just turned around and grabbed one of the prepared trays and went back up the way she had come down.
"Dammit," spat the cook after he watched her go.
"Did you know her before she came here?" Bee asked, curious how this cook seemed to know so much about a woman that had been a whore for five years.
"Mind yer own business girl," the cook growled while he pursued his previous position and his cigarette.
"What you said was harsh, but it was also, all true," Bee said in a monotone, still partially caught up in her task. "I have been here a long time, I know most of the ladies' stories on how they came to be here. I have known all the cooks since I came here too." she added, finally sparing the man by the window a glance. "None have ever spoken to any of the women that way, you just might last."
He was young, in his early to mid-twenties, lean with broad shoulders, and stood over six feet tall. Elio was his name and he was a native to this planet, or at least partially. His skin was olive toned, and he had the trademark pastel green eyes with vertical slits for pupils, an adaptation for life in the desert. His blaze orange hair-like feathers crested the top of his head in a spiky fin, and he slicked them back for work, while twin horns of charcoal grey stuck up and out of his temples. Bee only ever saw him at work when he was in his black cook's pants and white coat, sometimes he took it off, and underneath was a white tank-top. Despite his overall intimidating appearance, and the way he had just treated Xeon, Bee had come to realize, he actually had a very sweet and caring demeanor with his staff; often that included herself.
Elio watched the young woman washing dishes for a moment, after she turned back to her task. There was something strange about this girl. She rarely spoke when in the tavern or the kitchen, usually to confirm she would follow orders. Then sometimes, like just now, she sounded older than time, certainly not the fifteen she claimed and looked to be. Her blue eyes would harden and a fire would burn in their depths, the tip of her strange, furry tail would bristle as it uncoiled itself from her waist and stood up to twitch. The whole thing sent shivers up his spine and made a cold sweat form on his brow. He wondered what would happen to this girl once the boss decided to break her in, what would happen to the man that tried?
"Eat somethin' kid," Elio said as he smothered the cherry from his smoke into the ashtray beside him. "I know you were tryin' ta eat when I pulled ya inta the fray tonight. A growin' girl needs ta eat." He said not realizing how it had affected her, nor did he care. His work wasn't done and it was past time he got back to it.
Bee froze in her task, she could hear Elio working, prepping more trays for the late-night crowd, and so she peered self consciously down at her body. Had she changed enough in the past month for this new cook to notice? Or was it just the uniform? It did try to accentuate her curves, but that was why she kept her tail around her waist, to throw off the hourglass figure that heralded her maturity.
"You shouldn't worry so much 'bout what them women say, yer lucky to be what ya are," Elio said to the platter he was filling with the different dishes he had made. "Even if what ya are is a bit creepy," he added good-naturedly.
"Thanks for the compliment," Bee deadpanned, rolling her eyes at the man's odd sense of humor.
"What do they call yer kind anyways?" he asked looking at the strange girl again.
"My mother said we were something called Saiyans, I know our native language but nothing else about us." Bee admitted honestly.
Watching the girl for a moment Elio thought about what she had said before returning to his work. "Never heard of 'em, but imagine that must be hard, not knowin' the people ya come from." He said, sympathetic to her plight, and they both fell into a companionable silence as they finished working.
That night she stripped naked before her mirror and tried to see if she had developed anymore. Weighing her breasts in each hand, measuring her hips and then her bottom; trying to remember how they looked and felt the last time she had done this. The trouble was she couldn't remember when she had last been one hundred percent naked for any extended amount of time.
Being naked was something she avoided, even when bathing. It was a quicker way to wash her regular undergarments. Only stripping long enough to dry herself off and dress in her long-underwear, her mother's old flight suit which always fit like a glove. The garment looked like it was child-sized, in its black, shiny, carbonate material, with five purple diamonds down the back, and was self-cleaning. After which she would finish washing her clothes and return to her room to bind her chest again and throw on an old ratty sweater to hide her body.
Bee frowned at the girth of her hips when she brought her hands back up to look at the distance for the fifth time. She looked in the mirror again but couldn't tell if they were wider or her waist was thinner. Either way, the hourglass was becoming obvious. Reaching for her discarded jumpsuit she pulled it on, stepping into each leg and slipping her arms into the sleeves. She popped the collar making sure it was all the way up and instantly she could feel how snug they were around her hips. Cursing Bee tried to zip it up over her chest and it cinched tighter around her buttocks, the zipper not able to complete even half the distance over her bust before the flesh was squished together and spilling out. Panic began to set it as she unzipped the suit and violently thrust it off of her, making it pool on the floor l at her feet.
Sitting down hard on her bed she cradled her head in her hands and stared at the floor while tears began to fill her eyes. She had tried so hard to prevent this from happening, but you couldn't fight nature. Growing up was something she couldn't control and it terrified her what might happen to her in the coming months. Would her owner notice these changes, or like today, would she be able to avoid him better as time passed, and the season got busy. Even then, come winter they would all be in closer quarters and she couldn't hide from him forever.