The Chronicles of Gin - Part 9

Part 9: Back into the Barn

And so we returned to the barn, Scruff radiating determination, me radiating absolute horror, and Kitherine, disturbingly, radiating satisfaction.

Scruff settled us in full view of all the animals, then turned to me and asked, “Gingerbread Man, you know what’s in that playroom now. If you choose to go back there, so be it. However, I must also inform you that if you choose not to go, I will personally give you safe passage out of this farm in keeping with barnyard law.”

Several groans of protest bubbled up.

“This is bullshit,” muttered the sow.

“Agreed!” huffed the cow knowingly.

“But we ate all the others!” brayed the donkey, all pretenses of horsehood cast aside.

Scruff silenced them all with a single raised paw.

“Consent requires a real choice. If this cookie has to choose between the playroom and a barn full of hungry animals, that's no choice at all. Hence, no consent.”

I glanced around me and something dawned on me.

“If Kitherine hadn't propositioned me, you would have just let the animals eat me, wouldn't you?”

“Of course. You're a cookie,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Kitherine,” I gasped, voice thick with tears, “you saved my life tonight.”

“Bored now. Don’t care.” She yawned before licking a paw and sliding it sensually down the side of her face.

She really didn’t care. The moment I stopped calling her Miss Kitty, I might as well have winked out of existence to her. But to have those eyes on me again, to feel the intensity of her attention... would that be reason enough to go back to that horrible place?

A born predator, she sensed the moment I faltered.

“You could always just say it again, Gin. Go on, tell me, tell everyone that you want to play. You know you want to.” And she started circling me again, gliding with each step, majestic, graceful, and hypnotically beautiful. Maybe I might even have given in, but I happened to notice the snow-white tip of her jet-black tail. There were red flecks on it that could only be blood.

“Thanks for everything, Kitherine, but I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome already.”

“Your loss,” she said with a shrug. But as she turned to leave, she accidentally-on-purpose smacked my rear with her tail, hard enough to send me to the floor.

“Kitherine!” barked Scruff in a swift reprimand.

“Relax, I just made his year. Look at him,” she purred with a smirk.

I can't say for sure what expression Scruff saw on my face, but based on the expression I saw on his, his respect for me had reached an all-time low. I can’t blame him. I didn’t respect myself very much at that moment either.

But as it turned out, that really was the highlight of my year…

Could things be looking up for Gin? Are we done with the animals from the farm? Will Gin ever live this down? Stay tuned for at least some of these answers in the next installment, definitely eventually 😉!