Chapter 11
ELEVEN
I cling to Daddy’s neck as he steps out of the elevator. He isn’t making me keep my head down, and I’m strong enough to hold it up without difficulty now. I could probably stand, if he let me, but he’s adamant that I may not.
This entire floor is government offices. I don’t know what Daddy does, but I know he works for the Venkorian government. I doubt I would understand if he explained it to me, and I haven’t asked.
There are dozens of men hurrying around. The center of the room is open, with men sitting at desks. The walls have individual offices all along them that open to the center.
Men greet my Daddy. Some of them smile at me. None of them speak to me. A few make comments to Daddy, though.
“Ah, your new pet is adorable.”
“What a pretty Little pet.”
“I wondered if you were going to bring the human to the office.”
Daddy responds noncommittally to all of them as he continues walking until finally opening a door and stepping into one of the offices.
I’m excited to see that one wall is a floor-to-ceiling window, and my kennel is situated in front of it, which means I’ll be able to look outside.
The other side of the office, where we entered, has glass windows.
They don’t reach the floor, but they’re large enough that I will be able to see when people walk by or when they enter the room.
Daddy’s desk is next to the kennel. He sits with me on his lap as he makes a call from the phone on his desk. “We’re here. Are you busy?... Great. See you in a few.”
Keeping one arm around me, Daddy turns on his computer and clicks away as it fires up.
“Sir?”
At the sound of the voice behind us, Daddy turns. “Hey, Vabar. Thanks for coming so fast. I’ll feel better with a few changes.”
The man smiles. “No problem.” He sets a box on the round table by the entrance and takes something out.
“I’ve redesigned this leash so that it’s only removable by placing your thumbprint on both ends.
” He holds up one end of the chain for Daddy to see.
“It’s more lightweight than the one you’ve been using, which will be more comfortable when you need to go a long distance by Telerail or even outside for any other reason. ”
Vabar produces another item. “This cuff is for your wrist. After you snap it closed, you’ll secure it to the leash and then the other end to your pet’s collar.”
He helps Daddy fasten it on his wrist and then hands him the other end. It occurs to me that Vabar is like an IT specialist.
Daddy tips my head back and clasps the new leash to my collar. “Thank you. This will give me peace of mind. No one will be able to snatch her from my arms.”
I shudder at the visual. I’m grateful for the new leash, too. I’d die if anyone tried to take me from Daddy.
Vabar points toward a large metal eyehook on the floor in front of the kennel.
“I installed an eyehook, too. It will give you some flexibility. When you need to let her out of the kennel to change her or even just to let her stretch, you can attach the leash to it. She’ll be safe from anyone passing by, but it will also keep her from wandering farther than she’s allowed. ”
Daddy nods as he reaches down to tug on the eyehook. “That will work. It seems secure. Can you put some of them in my apartment?”
“Of course. I can do that today if you’d like. I can make them flush with the floor, so no one trips over them. Maybe one in the middle of the kitchen, the living room, and the bedroom?”
“My office, too.”
“No problem. I’ll provide you with several more leashes in a variety of lengths. That way, you can limit her movements to fit your needs.”
I feel very uneasy about this conversation. The permanence of it is upsetting. All these leashes and hooks and kennels… Will Daddy ever stop treating me like a puppy?
On the other hand, there’s my security to consider.
I’m not sure whether he’s overprotective or not.
It would stand to reason that when more and more Venkorian men find out that humans are not only intelligent but provide the men with sexual opportunities that many of them have not had in years, they will all want a human.
It’s possible my safety could be affected.
But leashes and kennels… I shiver.
“Thank you, Vabar, I really appreciate your help. And if anything ever happens to me, you will have the ability to override my thumbprint, correct?”
“Yes. Anyone in my office has the security clearance to override your thumbprint.” Vabar nods, gathers his things, and lets himself out.
I narrow my gaze at Daddy, a question burning in my mind.
He chuckles. “My Little pet is a smart girl. You’re wondering how anyone would know if you needed help, aren’t you?”
I nod slowly. How did he figure that out?
He kisses my forehead. “I haven’t told you yet, but there’s a button under the front ring of your collar. It’s recessed so that it won’t accidentally get pushed.” He lifts my pointer and tucks it under the ring. “Feel it?”
I nod. “If you’re ever in danger or something happens to me, you push that button and someone will come to your aid immediately.”
My eyes widen. I’ve wondered several times what would happen to me if I were locked in my kennel and Daddy fell and hit his head, but I didn’t dare ask.
I slide my hand around to the back of my collar, where I know Daddy disabled my translator. Do I have the ability to turn that on and off, too?
He laughs. “It only works for the front button, naughty Little pet. Only my thumb can disable and reactivate your translator.”
I sigh. Of course.
Daddy lowers me to the floor, setting me on my hands and knees as usual. He pats my bottom. “Kennel, Little pet. I have another surprise for you.”
I crawl inside. This kennel is slightly larger than the ones at home.
I see there are several items in the back.
A doll makes me smile behind the pacifier.
I haven’t had a doll since I was a baby, but I’m excited to have one.
There are some puzzles and blocks, too. Silly things that would never hold a human adult’s interest for long, but I’m grateful.
“One more surprise, Little pet.”
I turn around in the cramped space to find Daddy hooking a bowl to the side of the cage.
He adjusts it so that it’s at the same level as my mouth and then opens a container under his desk, scoops something out, and dumps it into the bowl.
He bends closer to lift my chin. “Kibble. You’ll eat it with your mouth only.
No hands. Prove to me that you can be obedient.
People in my office will be watching.” He lifts a brow.
I nod. My stomach is in knots. I really want to eat something other than my formula, but I hadn’t expected him to make me do it without my hands.
“Remember, you’re my pet. We’ll adjust your feedings as time goes by, but for now, you’ll eat your solid foods the way pets are expected to eat.”
I nod.
“You may take your pacifier out to eat and drink but put it back in when you’re not actively doing one of those two. No speaking.”
I nod again.
“Good girl.” Daddy sets a bottle of formula in the kennel with me, closes the door, and locks it.
I take deep breaths for long minutes while he turns to his computer. I’m trembling and trying hard not to panic. Some days are harder than others. I want to please him, but every time he introduces me to something new, reminding me that I’m owned and must obey, I get anxious.
Today has been filled with new stressful additions. Jammies that a human baby would wear. Leashes in many lengths that I’m certain will limit my movement even further in the apartment. Toys for a toddler. And the most difficult thing to swallow—kibble in a bowl to be eaten like a dog.
Daddy is only doing what he thinks is best. He wasn’t prepared for me to be intelligent. He doesn’t know what to do with me. So he’s following the path he’d intended, putting into place the kind of training he would for the pet he thought he was getting.
I need to be patient with him. I hope he will come around and give me more freedom soon. If not, I might lose my mind.
After staring at the kibble for a while, I finally get too curious to be stubborn about it. I take my pacifier out. It’s attached to a ribbon around my neck so it won’t get lost. It hangs down my chest when I release it.
Daddy glances at me. “Hands and knees, Little pet.”
I shudder as I obey him and come up to the heel position before tipping my head so I can capture a piece of the kibble with my tongue and lips. I lean back to chew. It’s not bad. It is very flavorful. I suspect it also has a lot of fiber that will cause me to empty my bowels more often.
Filling my diaper from my bottom is one of the worst parts about my new life. I hate it. I don’t have a choice, and Daddy doesn’t seem to care at all, but it’s humiliating. I pray some day he will let me use some kind of receptacle and stop making me poop myself.
I lean forward to pluck another piece of kibble with my lips. This time, I stay on my hands and knees. I chew and swallow and go for another bite. It feels good to eat, and it tastes yummy. In no time, I’ve finished all of it.
I’m exhausted from so many firsts. I pick up my bottle, curl onto my side against a giant pillow, and start sucking. Before I manage to finish it, it slips from my hands.
I’m vaguely aware of Daddy opening the kennel. He pops my pacifier in my mouth and strokes my cheek. “Such a good girl.”
The last thing I’m aware of is the snick of the lock as I’m once again caged. Will that sound always make me flinch?