Chapter 8
EIGHT
I choke on the liquid; it overflows out of my mouth. Daddy quickly sits me upright and pats my back.
“You’re okay,” Daddy gently says. “Everything is going to be okay. Just slowly push air out of your lungs, and the liquid will leave your windpipe.”
I shake my head and try to suck in a breath of air. My lungs want air; they don’t want me to get rid of what’s in there already.
“Do as Daddy says, and you will be okay.” Daddy pats my back again. “I would never do anything to harm you.”
I don’t know about that, but I do as he says, pushing the little air left in my lungs out. Tears pool in my eyes.
“Just a little more,” Daddy encourages. “You can do it.”
I shake my head and suck in a breath, but cough as my lungs seize.
“No, Little pet. You aren’t allowed to do that.” He keeps patting my back. “Blow out. Just a little more.”
Tears run down my face as I attempt to blow out. My lungs burn, begging me to fill them. But worry churns in my stomach at the thought of taking a breath and going into a coughing fit.
“Such a good Little pet. Now, slowly take a breath in,” Daddy commands. “Slow and easy.”
I look into his eyes, and he cups my face.
“Everything is going to be okay. Just take a slow and steady breath, and you’ll be just fine,” he soothes me. “It won’t bother your lungs if you do as I say.”
I want to ask him how he is so sure, but I can’t.
“Come on, Little pet. Just take in a small breath.” Daddy runs his thumb across my cheek. “Be a good girl.”
I take a shallow breath in, and my lungs thank me.
“Another small breath,” he reminds me, and I inhale, but slightly bigger than the one before. “Don’t be greedy, it will only make things worse. I know you want to fill those lungs up, but do as Daddy says, and before you know it, you will be able to.”
I continue to take little breaths in, and before I know it, I’m breathing normally.
“Such a good pet for listening to Daddy,” he praises me.
I slump against his body, closing my eyes.
“Tired?” he asks.
I nod and don’t say anything.
“Let’s get you on your back and drinking the rest of your bottle.” Daddy moves my body before I can say anything.
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, fear rolling inside of me at the thought of choking.
“It was Daddy’s fault. I shouldn’t have talked to you about something like that,” he gently says. “I won’t do it again. I’ll only talk about happy things, or we’ll sit in silence as you feed.”
I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Daddy places the nipple in my mouth.
“Suckle,” he commands. “Yamal should be here any minute now.”
There is a knock on the door, and I start to suckle. What if he is here to put a catheter in me without me knowing? What if he decides that I need a lot more done to my body
My breathing picks up, and Daddy runs his hand up and down my arm.
“You’re okay,” he whispers. “Nothing bad is going to happen. This is going to help you calm down. No one is going to ask you any questions or talk to you while you finish your bottle, understand?”
Daddy looks so sincere as he says those words.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Come in!” Daddy yells.
Daddy places the nipple in my mouth, and I start suckling subconsciously as Yamal walks into the room.
“Wha—”
“We need to wait to talk until after she finishes her bottle,” Daddy explains.
I look over at Yamal to see him raising an eyebrow.
“Just sit down. She is almost done, and then we can talk,” Daddy says.
My whole body warms at his words. He was serious about no one talking. Does he really care that much about me?
I push the thoughts to the back of my mind as I continue to drink the delicious liquid like my life depends on it.
“She will surely gain weight if she feeds like that,” Yamal says.
“Yamal.” Daddy glares at him.
I look over to see Yamal holding his hands up.
“She is done. I waited until she finished before I said anything,” he informs Daddy. “Look at the bottle, and you will see that she is done.”
I didn’t even realize it was finished.
“More?” I mumble around the nipple of the bottle.
I am full, but at the same time, I want more. If someone could hook me up to a machine, I would never stop drinking it. We never had anything like this on the space station. All our food was bland, but this is amazing.
“You can’t have any more right now, but before you go to bed, you can.” Daddy looks down at me and smiles.
He pulls the bottle from my mouth and places it on the table next to us.
“Why couldn’t we talk while she was feeding?” Yamal asks. “We did it yesterday.”
“She choked earlier and panicked about drinking again. I promised no one would talk while she was feeding, so it wouldn’t happen again,” Daddy replies.
“What can I help you with?”
Daddy moves me, so I’m sitting up in his lap, and he wraps the blanket around me.
“She can’t keep warm. She was shivering when I woke her up from her nap, and she was under a blanket,” Daddy explains. “She is even colder to the touch, and she has been near me for a while now.”
Yamal hums and looks at me. “Nothing abnormal showed up on her tests.”
Worry churns inside my stomach. He didn’t find anything. Am I going to die from being so cold?
“How much do you weigh?” Yamal asks.
I shrug. We never weighed ourselves on the space station, and even if we did, I don’t know what normal would be.
“Let’s weigh her,” Yamal suggests. “Then if that comes back normal, we will do some other tests.”
Daddy gets up and carries me into the left corner of his room, where there’s a scale.
“I don’t want to.” I hold onto him tighter. “Cold.”
Which isn’t a lie, but I also don’t want to be in only a diaper in front of both of them. I’ve been covered up by a blanket since I got here, and that’s how I want it to be unless I can get some clothes.
“We need to weigh, and then you can come right back into my arms,” Daddy gently says as he squats down. “It will only be for a minute.”
A minute too long. Does he not understand that?
Daddy unravels the blanket and places me on the scale. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to cover my breasts.
“Don’t cover yourself,” Daddy scolds me. “You are so pretty as you are.”
“You can see her ribs from the back,” Yamal points out.
I move my head, but all I can see are my shoulders.
“Little pet, how much did you eat on the space station?” Daddy asks. “There is no wrong answer. We are just curious.”
I shrug. “I ate three meals like everyone else.”
“Did you eat all of your food?” Yamal asks.
The scale beeps, and Daddy picks me up once again, holding me close as he wraps the blanket around us.
Yamal tsks as he looks at the scale. “She is underweight. No wonder she is colder than everyone else. Her body can’t keep the heat in.”
“Did you eat all of your meals?” Daddy asks as he walks back into the living room.
I shake my head before resting it on his chest, snuggling into him. So sleepy and cold. It feels right being in his arms, like I am supposed to be here all the time.
“How much did you eat?” Yamal asks. “Why didn’t you eat all of your meals?”
“Maybe one meal. It was bland and didn’t taste good, so I just stopped eating as much,” I whisper.
No one has ever told me I am smaller than I should be. The dress I wore covered everything up, and I didn’t know I was this skinny. I didn’t think it was affecting me this much not to eat all the food.
“That’s why she wanted more of the formula,” Yamal tells Daddy. “I’ll come up with a plan for her to eat, a schedule. If you can follow it, it’ll make sure she puts the weight back on. She will get healthy eventually, and won’t be as cold as she is right now.”
“So keep feeding her. Is there anything else I need to do?” Daddy asks.
“Have her close to you as much as possible. If you need to leave her, place a heater next to her and extra blankets, but I wouldn’t leave her for long. It’s not good for her to be this cold all the time, but as she gains weight, it should improve,” Yamal explains.
“Thank you for coming.” Daddy stands with me in his arms.
“You don’t have to see me out.” Yamal waves his hand in the air. “Feed her another bottle in an hour and another one before you go to bed.”
“Thank you again,” Daddy calls after him.
The door closes, and I shut my eyes, nuzzling into his body. He’s so warm.
“Are you feeling okay?” Daddy asks.
“Cold. Sleepy,” I mumble.
“Today we were supposed to go over your rules, and I was going to teach you some tricks,” Daddy tells me. “But with you being so cold, we won’t do the tricks today.”
“Do we have to?” I whine.
“Yes, we do. Rules are important.” Daddy runs his hands up and down my back.
I sigh and open my eyes.
“When someone asks you a question, you will look at me first to see if you can answer it. When we are out, you are not to talk to anyone else, but you can talk to me freely. You will not be disrespectful toward anyone. If you are, you will land yourself over my lap or in the corner. No matter where we are,” Daddy states.
“You are to obey me at all times. Your safety comes first. If you do anything to put yourself in danger or harm yourself, there will be consequences. Understand?”
“Why so many rules?” I ask.
“Because I want you safe and healthy,” he replies.
“But I don’t need that many.”
“Do you want to land yourself over my lap?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
“I will tolerate some sass, but if it turns disrespectful, there will be consequences,” Daddy tells me.
I sigh and nod. I’m agreeing now, but I may not follow his rules. He isn’t the boss of me.