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She's guided back Arndt into the suit and into the bathroom. She keeps her eyes closed as she's lowered back into another nice warm bath. She lets the adrenaline, dopamine, and other concoction of good chemicals in her body come to rest as her body is soaked in the water.
Arndt bathes her again, whispering softly to her with sweet nothings and more compliments, as she dozes off.
But one thing stays in her mind as she drifts into sleep.
Another new feeling.
The one that she wanted most out of any for the entire event she paid the mediator so handsomely for:
*I feel satisfied.*
---
## The Quizatch Bar is Packed
Priscilla stands outside of it, looking into the green neon bar filled with Statesmen, patrons and Northwesterns, mixed with the pious white clothing of members of her tube. She has her arms crossed, leaning by the entrance.
She searches for Muhammad as people enter and exit.
After letting her fantasy settle for a week in her mind, a new found confidence builds in her.
This new fit for her in a jalabay instead of a niqab shocks her husband when he exits the bar for several reasons.
One, her face is revealed in public.
She does this so he can see her face of displeasure at him.
Two, she's out by herself.
After walking the streets of Zamalek at the surface, she no longer fears being alone.
Three, he's been caught red handed with a neon stateswoman, drunk, and laughing as she pulls him along, asking him which hotel they're going to this time.
"Priscilla! How dare you go out without my permission! You--," he begins to berate her, but Priscilla puts up a hand.
"Let me make something very clear to you *habibi*," she says evenly, stepping forward. "I'm no longer your servant or someone secondary that is just alive to wait on you. I've known you've been doing this for a while, and it ends today."
Muhammad turns red in the face. His twinky lets go of his hand and bounds away.
"What!" he yells. It makes people around the entrance of the bar turn as he exclaims.
"The servants have already packed your stuff and sent it to your mother. You can explain to her how I caught you here and why I'll be taking our home."
Muhammad turns so red in the face that he begins to walk toward her, hands out, ready to strangle her.
Priscilla doesn't move. She doesn't have to. Because Arndt and another three men from her private party a week ago converge to her side and stand in his way.
Confused and baffled, Muhammad is stunned into silence.
"Go enjoy your twinky," she says, fanning her hand out at him, "And make sure you give her my compliments."
As Muhammad walks away without a word, Priscilla enjoys this new feeling of satisfaction. And getting it in several ways with her new found group of friends is among the best changes in her life.
- COMMENTS
Anonymous3 months agoI took a shot at reading this story, it isn't what I normally go for and enjoy, but that being said, I can somewhat understand Pricilla's political/religious plight, unfortunately her husband thrives in the best of both worlds, a submissive and faithful wife and the freedom to do as he pleases without any social retribution. In the end, she finally achieves a level of satisfaction and fulfillment in her own right, too bad that she couldn't look at and enjoy the faces of all who satisfied her. Unfortunately, I feel the ending was somewhat unrealistic, their 'type' of society would never allow this to happen.
