Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Anxiety consumes me on the first morning Daddy intends to take me to work with him. I’m quiet. So unnerved that the chain strapped across my pussy isn’t making me horny this morning. I’m not titillated by it like I usually am.
Daddy’s brow is furrowed, and he keeps glancing at me while he gets ready.
I’m sitting on the floor in the middle of his bedroom, which is causing me to think of all the aspects of my life that don’t resemble ordinary human existence.
I’m not permitted to walk on two legs. Daddy says it gives him heart palpitations. He refuses to allow me to stand and threatens to spank me if I do so.
He doesn’t let me out of his sight. Even now, while he dresses and tidies up, he has me where he can see me at all times. That’s not normal. Humans don’t worry so incessantly about other humans.
I’m in a diaper. I’ve been in a diaper since he bought me. He won’t consider letting me use a toilet, and even if he agreed to such a thing, the toilet in his bathroom is so high off the floor that I’d need a stool to use it.
I’ve had no solid foods since I arrived. I don’t mind the formula. It’s tasty. But I’m growing bored. And I’m not a baby. Yet, I drink from a bottle several times a day.
I’m wearing a onesie. It’s the sort of thing infants would wear on Earth. It does make it easier for me to crawl around, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to being dressed like this.
My eyes roam to the other side of his enormous bed. There’s a crib in this room. It’s where I sleep. It’s at the level of the bed, so Daddy can see me in the night if I’m restless and wake him up.
“Little pet…”
I jerk out of my wandering, depressing thoughts and look up at Daddy.
Instead of inquiring about where my mind is, he bends down, scoops me up, and kisses my face before snuggling me against him. “You’ll be fine. I promise.” And that’s all he has to say about my plight.
I cling to him as he carries me to the bed and sits me on my bottom. Forced to release him, I tremble as he picks up a leash I haven’t seen before. He snaps it onto the hoop at the front of my neck, the pop sound affecting me in the same way it always does.
I might not be feeling frisky this morning, not even reacting to the chain against my cunt, but I’m conditioned to react to that sound. I’d probably get wet between my legs if I were asleep. That’s how trained I am.
Daddy surprises me when he attaches the other end of the leash to his wrist. I flinch just as hard at the pop against his arm as when he fastened it onto my neck.
He holds his wrist out for me to see. “This leash is more secure. It’s not easily removable. It requires my thumbprint. No one will be able to snatch you out of my arms.”
I’m breathing heavily. My stress levels are high. I’m not at all interested in leaving this apartment for so many reasons, but his fear for my safety is at the top of my list for the simple reason that it’s obviously a huge concern for him.
Daddy lifts me into his arms again. “Ready?”
I say nothing because the true answer is no. I’m not ready. I will never be ready. Instead of being obstinate, I lean my cheek against his shoulder.
“Remember, I don’t want you speaking to anyone for any reason. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I whisper. It’s annoying that he keeps repeating this same rule. He’s told me not to talk to anyone about ten times now. It’s insulting that he thinks I’m too stupid to remember, but his reasoning is also unnerving.
Daddy is hoping to keep my level of intelligence a secret from other Venkorians for as long as possible. He seems to think that it will be best to make me seem unappealing and boring.
Before we leave the apartment, he pops a pacifier in my mouth. It’s frustrating how often I’ve been sucking these nipples. I’m growing addicted to soothing myself with them. I’d rather not develop such a nasty habit, but I don’t have options when Daddy plugs my mouth.
My primary emotion as we leave the apartment is embarrassment. It’s one thing to be alone in Daddy’s apartment, being treated like an infant. It’s another thing entirely to do so in public.
I’m not fond of the lie we’re perpetrating. I’m presenting to everyone around as a docile, unintelligent being who can’t take care of myself. It’s not even close to the truth, and I’m going to hate the looks I get from other people.
No one is in the elevator as we rise to the floor where Daddy works, but when he steps out, I’m stunned by the number of Venkorians in the giant room and the volume.
They all seem to be talking at once, bustling around as if the universe is on fire, and they need to put it out or self-destruct. The room is divided into cubicles, but most of the people are standing in groups. I suspect that’s because it’s early. They’ve just arrived at work.
A hush surrounds us as soon as we’re spotted. It feels like dozens of eyes are on me. And everyone in this room is gigantic, like Daddy. They’re all more than two feet taller than me and much broader. I’m like an insect.
Daddy slides a hand up my back and presses my face against his neck. He says “good morning” to several people as he continues walking through the room.
I wonder if he will step into one of the cubicles. I’m relieved when he passes the last one and instead enters a room with actual walls at the far end. I’m not remotely fond of the idea of being here, but if I must be, I’m glad his office isn’t out in the open.
I stiffen when my gaze settles on the cage in the corner of the room.
It’s not a crib. Neither is the bed I sleep in.
It’s a prison cell. It’s hard to hold my tongue when he sets me next to the enclosure, removes his end of the leash from his wrist, and pats my bottom.
“Go on inside. I have a surprise for you.”
No matter what his surprise is, I’d rather forgo the promised gift and stay on this side of the cage.
“Isla,” he warns in a low tone. “Now.”
At his demand, I crawl forward, deciding the only thing more humiliating than climbing into this kennel would be getting my bottom spanked in front of his entire staff.
The chain of my leash drags between my legs as I enter the confined space.
Apparently, he’s not going to take it off.
Sometimes my collar weighs heavily around my neck, but it’s the worst when he has multiple chains attached to it.
In this case, I’m already wearing the tight chain that extends between my legs.
This new one makes it more difficult to keep my head up.
I’ve grown more accustomed to the increased gravitational pull on Venkoria with each passing day, but adding a collar and a few chains makes holding my head up even harder.
The space is confining. I could lie on my side with my knees curled up to my chin or sit straight with my legs crossed, but that’s about it. I turn around to glare at Daddy. He’s not looking directly at me, though. He’s opening a drawer on the side of his desk.
Confused, I frown as he pulls out a bag that sounds like it contains a bulk of something small inside. But the air leaves my lungs when he removes a metal bowl from the desk and pours some of the contents into it.
Oh heavens, no. I pray this isn’t what I think it is. But my prayers fall on deaf ears because the next thing I know, Daddy is setting the bowl in the kennel with me.
“Surprise,” he declares as if I’ve won a prize. “It’s kibble. Especially designed for Little human pets. I think you’ll like it. Yamal says the other pets enjoy it. I bet you’re getting tired of nothing but formula.”
I am tired of the formula. That part is correct. But the thought of eating small, dry pieces of whatever this is makes me want to scream at him.
I’m not a pet.
Instead, I reach forward, grab the door to my enclosure, and yank it closed. I essentially lock myself in, the resounding snick seeming to deafen me. It’s a small act of rebellion, but it won’t go unnoticed. My defiance will be punished.
I turn away from the locked door, curl into a ball, and lie facing the wall. I don’t want to face my owner right now. I don’t want to eat his stupid pet food. I don’t want to be locked in a kennel with a leash hanging from my neck.
I want to be free.
It’s not going to happen, probably not ever in my lifetime, but I need some time to think. I need to mourn my prior existence. Wrap my head around what’s expected of me.
Sucking my stupid pacifier harder than ever, I stay very still. Maybe he’ll think I’m napping. I doubt it, but it would be better than interacting with him while I’m so angry.
I’m not a pet.
Daddy sticks a hand through the slats of my jail and grips my collar.
For a startled moment, I think he’s going to pull hard, forcing me to face him. But that’s not what happens. His hand is gone almost as fast as it touched my collar.
Several minutes pass before I’m aware of another man entering the office. And then I’m stunned when he speaks. I can’t understand a single sound. I haven’t heard this odd language since the day I arrived.
Daddy responds to the man in his native tongue, too.
I slide my hand to my neck, wondering if he did something to turn off my translator. I suspect so. It’s probably my own fault. My punishment for being defiant. I don’t think I even care. Let him shut me out. He’s a big meanie anyway for putting me in a cage.
I’m infuriated further when Daddy drapes a cloth over my kennel, putting me in the dark. I don’t move, though. I remain on my side, simmering.
After a while, Daddy reaches around to the side and sets a bottle through the slats. I can see it without moving my head. I ignore him and the bottle.
When I need to pee, I hold it in because I know I’ll be left sitting in a wet diaper for a long time because of my stubbornness. I’m not done fuming yet.
My mind wanders in a million directions. My current plight is depressing. I’m a caged animal on a planet I’m not familiar with. I’ve never seen the outside because I was drugged when I arrived.
The only particulars I know about this planet come from me looking out the window from many stories up.
I can judge from what I’ve seen and learned that Venkorians are an advanced species, far more advanced than the humans on Earth ever were.
Everything I’ve seen in Daddy’s apartment, this office, and out the window looks futuristic to me.
This collar I’m wearing is a translation device. We certainly didn’t have those on Earth. And how does Daddy understand what I’m saying? It seems he simply does. Apparently, he can understand any language.
I wrap my fingers around the metal device and grit my teeth. I don’t want to wear a collar. It’s heavy and hideous. It makes me feel owned.
Which I am.
Owned.
I can’t wrap my head around that. It’s too overwhelming to think I’ll be spending the rest of my life owned by a giant man who makes every decision about my body.
A giant man who pleasures me frequently… There is that.
Is it worth it, though? Won’t I suffer from tremendous resentment for years to come?
He bought me, and he intends to control me.