Dinner with Diego

The main house was lavish. A huge pool and hot tub. A gigantic master suite. A gold toilet. In the dining room, the meal was set up for just the two of them. Gigantic steaks, baked potatoes, creamed spinach, cold beer. It made her stomach hurt just thinking about it after months of gruel. Diego, fit, bearded, handsome, brown skinned, smiled pleasantly at her.

"I'm glad you could join me," he said pleasantly. "You look well."

It was a lie. She was emaciated, but the staff had done a good job dolling her up and putting her makeup on that she felt at least somewhat presentable. She buttered her potato.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She started to eat, ravenous.

"Slow down, or you'll get sick," Diego cautioned. She paused, like a scared animal, and then started eating slowly, but using her hands.

"So have you reconsidered joining me?" Diego asked. Carrie paused, thinking of how to respond.

"What would it entail?"

"My family was taken from me by the government, my military. I need someone for ... pleasure. To destress."

"So a whore? Don't you have plenty of options there?" she asked.

"I want something more than a whore. I need a partner. A sounding board. A ... believer, just as much as I am." Carrie looked at him, wide eyed and skeptical.

"I'd ... fuck. But a believer. That's too tall an order, Mister."

"I see," Diego said sadly. "Then I think we have nothing else to discuss tonight." He clapped his hands, and Carrie was returned to her room. She started to sob.