Twelve Days of Xanthus Read Free Page B

onto stiff muscles in a refreshing massage and he was grateful when the stench of travel washed off his body to run down the drain. Ten minutes later, he was refreshed and ravenous. He stepped out of the shower, dried off, and wrapped his lower body in a fluffy, black towel. He made his way to the kitchen. Violet sat at the breakfast table, still clad in flannel pants and a white t-shirt, gripping a white coffee mug. She took a healthy swallow and set the mug on the counter.
     
    “Crap. I thought you might have been an image of my over worked imagination.”
     
    “I need food, Mistress.”
     
    “Violet, remember?” She pushed her chair back from her table and stood. “What would you like?”
     
    “I’m not sure.” He shook his head. “I know the words for your items, but I don’t know what they would taste like on my palette.”
     
    Her eyes grew wide and filled with understanding. “Well, I guess the only way to know is to try things out.”
     
    She opened up the refrigerator and came out with a group of round, green items referred to as grapes. She picked them free, washed them in the sink, placed them in a bowl, and handed it to him. He popped two in his mouth and frowned. The mushy insides felt strange on his tongue. He chewed, swallowed, and grimaced.
     
    “No, huh?”
     
    “No, Mi- Violet.”
     
    “What didn’t you like about them?”
     
    “They were very...mushy? Squishy?”
     
    She chuckled. “I get you, and mushy was the right word to use, though squishy works too. How about we try some cereal? That’s hard and filling.”
     
    She pulled a blue box off the counter and shook out three inch squares into a bowel. He watched her go into the refrigerator and take out a gallon of milk. She poured the white substance over the squares and he frowned, skeptical about his enjoyment of the combination. A few minutes later, Violet placed the offering in front of him and he struggled not to turn his nose up.
     
    “Eat it before it gets soggy and the milk warms.”
     
    “Yes, M- Violet.”
     
    “You don’t have to answer me with an affirmative response every time I say something to you. Hell, you can tell me no if you want to, but in this instance, I wouldn’t suggest it. You have to eat something, and this is the fastest way to figure out what you like.”
     
    He took hold of the metal handle, dipped the spoon inside the square-filled white pond, and lifted it up to his mouth. The milk was creamy, cool, and quite delicious. The squares were crunchy, he’d give them that. He looked up to see Violet watching him like a hawk through narrowed eyes.
     
    “You don’t like it, do you?”
     
    “The squares are strange, but I quite enjoy the milk.”
     
    She rolled her eyes, took the bowl from in front of him, and dumped it in the sink. She flipped a switch and a loud grinding noise began. His translation chip informed him the noise was caused by a garbage disposal.
     
    Ten minutes later, he’d learned he was a huge fan of steel cut oats. His body rejoiced as he put down three bowls, two glasses of milk, and a delicious red fruit called an apple. Satisfied he stood, took the bowl to the sink, rinsed it out, and placed it into the dishwasher.
     
    “You won’t be single long, Xanthus.”
     
    He shook his head. “Single, what do you mean?”
     
    “You won’t be without a significant other. You have more manners than most men I know.”
     
    Her words saddened him. She didn’t want to keep him? He enjoyed being her slave. She’d allowed him more freedom than any Mistress before. The connection they shared felt deeper and more meaningful. Xanthus understood things worked differently here. People here were allowed to choose for themselves but what if she was his choice?
     
    “Are you okay?”
     
    Her concern warmed his heart.
     
    “Yes, M- Violet, I am fine. I was just wondering about what would happen if I make it through the twelve days.”
     
    “Hey, don’t say if. I‘m an