I've learned something important in these past few months: Never underestimate a cooking style. I used to think that barbeque was simply a slopped together dish, drowning in sauce, and made from the cheapest meat that one could find. There are indeed some recipes that fit that description. However, on the other side of the scale are people who have just as much passion, and have such a rigid and meticulous quality control that rivals even the best four and five star chef's.
Another thing I learned is that not just any old barbeque sauce will do. There are various brands of barbeque sauce for sale in various stores, and they're okay... However, I've learned through experimentation that the best sauce is what you make yourself.
I didn't think I'd be too fond of Wintertime. I don't like being cold, and Winter is all about being cold. However, it's not that bad. I just stay inside most of the time, and when I do go out, I have a nice coat that Michael bought for me. There's less to do in the winter, which translates to me having more time to experiment with my cooking. I started looking up barbeque recipes on the internet, just for laughs at first, then for more serious reasons.
I had invited Carissa and Zana, and their partners to try my first foray into the world of barbeque. Zana and Jennifer showed up on time, but Carissa and Dominic were late...
I can't stand lateness. I know things happen, so I usually don't get visibly upset about it. However, inside it just drives me crazy. Michael doesn't have a clue just how much it bothers me, then again he's never been late yet. I played the role of a pleasant host to Zana and Jennifer, but I also kept eying the door, waiting... hoping they'd show up...
Finally about twenty minutes after dinner started, they walked in. They apologized for being late. They didn't explain why they had been late, but before long I noticed the glances they were giving each other. Then Carissa gave me a knowing smile, and I figured it out. They had been making love. I smiled back at her. If there was any reason to be late, that was a good reason.
The rest of the dinner went smoother then I could have dreamed. We talked about our plans for various leisure activities, and the small handful of missions that were in the pipeline. Most importantly though, they all liked the food! That had been my biggest worry, and it turned out that I hadn't needed to worry at all. They all enjoyed it and commented on how the meat was so tender, and about how the sauce tasted pleasantly unique . Carissa and Dominic both had an extra helping. I wasn't at all surprised. Passionate sex tends to make people good and hungry. I should know...
After dinner, Michael helped me wash the dishes. While I was cleaning a glass, he squeezed one of my buttocks. He could be so naughty at times! I liked it... I finished drying the glass with one hand, while my other hand found its way to his crotch... I could be pretty naughty too...
It soon became apparent that we weren't going to finish the dishes anytime soon. I soon found myself naked and sitting on the couch. He began to touch my body, but when he ran his fingers over one of my scars, the expression on his face changed.
"Chloe... There's something I've been wanting to tell you for awhile, and... I think it's time..." he said.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Do you know where your scars came from?"
"No." I replied.
He took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Before you came here, you were a brainwashed sex slave. Your previous owners made you do... a lot of nasty things, and they did a lot of nasty things to you... They whipped and beat you regularly. When..."
He inhaled, then exhaled again.
"When we found you, you were slowly bleeding to death from various wounds. Some of the wounds were infected. We fixed you up, then we erased your memories and reprogrammed you to be an agent. You've been programmed to be loyal to the agency."
I blinked a couple times. One would think that it would be quite shocking to learn that you were once an abused sex slave who was taken and reprogrammed, but I found that I wasn't too upset. It explained where my scars came from, not that I had been overly curious about them to start with. I realized that I was very lucky. I looked at Michael, and saw him getting a bit upset. I smiled at him and placed my hand on his shoulder.
"You know... I translate foreign languages because I feel like I have to... But I cook for you, and make love to you because I want to. If I have to be brainwashed, I'm content to be with an owner who treats me as good as you do." That's what I said to him, and I meant every word of it.
That calmed him down. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Now that he was calmer, I had a couple questions.
"Are the trances I go into after we have sex due to the programming?" I asked.
"Yes. They're a side effect. Due to your previous brainwashing combining with our programming, an orgasm causes you to go into a trance. It's the same with Carissa and Zana." he said.
"Have you used the trances to make me fall in love with you?" I asked.
He smiled and shook his head. "No. That's all your doing. The most tinkering that I've done to you is to induce a few calming triggers for when you get upset, and occasionally I have a bit of fun with you, but you already know about that."
I laughed and smiled at him. "The velvet dress was very nice."
"Someday I'll have a real one designed for you." he replied.
He took a small box out of his pocket. "This is quite real..." he said as he opened it.
Inside the box, sitting on a tiny pillow, was a golden ring with three blue sapphires on top of it.
"Chloe... Will you become my wife?" he said.
It took me all of two seconds to decide. "Yes! Yes I will!"
He began to kiss me. Then he went lower and began to lick my nipples with his tongue. My heart began to beat faster, and soon my breathing became louder and heavier. Soon he went even lower and I felt his tongue teasing my clitoris. My hands dug into the couch as I braced myself for the inevitable climax...
When I came to, I shifted a bit, then I laid my head on Michael's lap. I could feel the ring around one of my fingers. I looked at it, and I liked what I saw.