The Meeting

You stop running after you reach the step where the door to the living room is. You stand there, getting your breath in order, before you go through the door.

Sephora and Olivia are already there at the table, but you walk past them. You pull out another bottle of Slut Milk from the fridge, and walk to the table, putting it on the table. You stand there, waiting, telling people you'll tell them why when everybody gets here.

Erica is first, as she comes down, her face red in anger and embarrassment. She looks at you with daggers, and luckily you chose to sit opposite the front door she came from. Otherwise, she might've smacked you as she passed. Then Rebecca comes, her hair dry enough but not quite how she tended to wear it.

"I'm glad that everybody is here. I'm sorry if it feels like this was a rush, but I can't be sure about how important what I found is." A small lie, but one easily forgivable if caught.

"So what bullshit reason caused you to come barrelling around like the house was on fire, numbnuts?" Erica looks at you, angry, but she doesn't raise what just happened quite yet. It was embarrassing, and she wasn't quite sure how to play it yet.

"Well, I have two things that I know are weird. First off is this flower. It was growing in my closet, and it was rooted in the obsidian beyond my wall. It doesn't seem normal." I twirl the flower in my hand, the last drops of fluid falling to the table. "I think there might be more of them. Check every place in your room, and pull them out."

"But why? Do we know they are doing something?" Sephora raises, maybe used to being the leader of our little group for a long time.

"Well, call it a hunch. I've been feeling weird today. Hot. It's possible that these flowers are doing something to us. And if there's no rule against it, well, I think it won't hurt." As you say the word hot, everybody looks at the others. I didn't say horny, but every person here knows that's what I mean. They had been through it, they knew it wasn't quite normal, but they didn't know why. Now they at least had a scapegoat.

"Ok, fair point, but what's up with the milk on the table?" Rebecca asks you. No, wincing, no looking away. Either she's a good liar or...

"Our fridge got restocked, so now we can presumably live here until something else fails. No more need for food rationing. We might be here for years. But this item is special."

I hand it to Rebecca first, watching her reaction. The look of shock appears genuine. As she hands it to Olivia, she also looks shocked, before handing it to Erica sheepishly. You half expect her to throw it at your head, but as she looks at it, she just holds it. She places it under the table. Her face is furious, and she looks at you with anger.

"There's breast milk in the fridge. We have to decide whether we ignore it or we break the bottles or we try to find a use for it." Before Erica can explode, you continue. "We don't know whether their value is dependent on whether we use them or their mere existence. It's possible that if we break them, Erica's points go down. It's possible that if we ignore them for too long, Erica's points go down. I want to come to a conclusion."

Erica breaks in at this point. "So what you're saying is, you want to decide what to do with my... with my fucking breast milk?!" She reaches into a hidden front pocket of the uniform, resting just above her pussy. She pulls out a black slab, the size of a phone. It is made of obsidian, but as you watch, she pulls it to her mouth, kissing it. As she puts it on the table, you realize it's a phone. She points to the number 35 beneath her name. At the odd glances, she looks down. "Yeah, don't bother destroying your phones, they just make indestructible ones. You need to kiss it to activate it though."

She raises her gaze again, this time her gaze is squarely on you. "When I got off of that machine, before I did any cleaning, the number was 20. So if breaking it removes my points." She stands up, her arm winding back. "LET'S TEST IT!" She throws it with all of her might at you.

You flinch, trying to dodge out of the way. Only to not feel it hit you. Nor to hear it shatter behind you. You didn't hear it hit. As you open your eyes, it's gone.

And so is Erica.