SIX
Everything is not okay.
I told myself that I was going to allow myself to cry yesterday, but today I wouldn’t… That didn’t happen. Daddy let me sleep the whole night. When I woke up this morning, he took me out of the kennel and fed me a bottle through the nipple.
Just that act alone made me start crying once again, which made Daddy worried.
But I didn’t say anything. How could I when it is a silly reason?
There is no reason for me to be acting this way.
There is no reason for me to miss having him feed me by our lips touching.
I shouldn’t want it, and yet I am finding myself missing it. I want him to start doing it again.
Daddy has been taking care of me, making sure whenever I pee that he changes my diaper, feeding me when I’m hungry, telling me I’m a good girl, but every single time he does something, I end up crying from his words or actions.
Always reminding me that he could take it away at any point since he stopped feeding me the tender way he started.
I shouldn’t get attached to anything he does, but my heart does. My heart wants me to get used to everything that he is doing, but I know that he is going to stop doing it all at some point. I don’t want to get too attached and be disappointed again.
“Daddy is going to place you back in your kennel while he makes a phone call. I won’t be long,” he says.
He gently places me on the blanket in the kennel and walks away. Tears immediately pool in my eyes, and I quickly wave my hand in front of me to try to stop myself. I need to stop crying, or else he is going to get tired of me and send me back to the space station.
But I should be happy that he wants to give me back to the space station. That was my original plan. I should be sticking to it. But with each passing second with Daddy, my heart has grown attached to him, and I shouldn’t want that. It’s the opposite of everything I wanted.
But I can’t help it.
There is something that he has done to me that has made me this way and I need to figure it out. If I figure it out then I need to find a way to stop it from developing more before he sends me back to the space station. There is no way that I can go back in this state.
How would I be able to function if I was crying all the time? I wouldn’t be able to. I would surely die if I went right now.
“Little Pet, why are you so upset?” Daddy asks.
I shake my head and turn away from him, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over my head. I thought he wouldn’t notice. Does he always have an eye on me?
Yes… yes, he does.
Apparently, he sees everything that I do, no matter how hard I try to hide it. Even during the night, he somehow knows if I have cried or not, even if I don’t make any noise.
How?
“Can you tell Daddy why you are crying? I want to help make it all better for you,” he says.
“Be mean to me,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
I clamp my free hand over my mouth and shut my eyes tightly. There is no way I just said that without even looking at him. What has gotten into me? Why, all of the sudden, am I answering his questions when he isn’t touching me or we aren’t making eye contact.
This won’t do. It’s getting worse with each passing second, and I can’t seem to stop it.
“What did you say?” he asks. “I think I misheard you.”
I stay silent, letting out a shaky breath, waiting to see what he is going to do next.
He sighs. “I’m going to make this phone call real quick. Then you and I are going to have a conversation. There is no way out of it, so prepare yourself.”
I’m going to have to find a way to avoid this. There is no way that we can have this conversation.
I should start thinking about another sad thing to get him off my case. Something he will believe. But what can I say?
I start chewing my fingernails as I try to think while I wait for him to finish the phone conversation.
What is he talking about? Does it have something to do with me, or is it his work?
When he first got me, Daddy told me he didn’t have to do any work at all in the first week.
He hasn’t done any work over the last couple of days.
Maybe something came up urgently and he had to deal with it. I nod. That must be what it is.
“Time to talk, Little Pet,” Daddy says as he lifts me and the blanket out of the kennel.
I scream and thrash around, but Daddy is quick to hold me tightly against him so I don’t fall.
“You’re okay,” he whispers. “Daddy is sorry that he scared you. I thought you heard me walk into the room. I didn’t mean to make you jump so much.”
He sits down and places me on his lap before gently pulling the blanket off my head. He smiles at me and cups my cheeks with his hands.
“So pretty,” he mumbles. “You are so beautiful.”
My cheeks flush, and I look down at my lap, not wanting to see his gaze. Daddy has a way with words, and it always affects me. He can make the most innocent thing sound like something that turns me on and makes me embarrassed.
And whenever that happens, I think about all the times he’s brought me pleasure. How he has made me come over and over with just his tongue and fingers. It makes me want to beg him to give me more pleasure, demand that he does, and keep me by his side… never getting rid of me.
“Now, Daddy wants to hear all about why you have been crying for the past day. What is going on?” he asks. “Talk to me, so I can make it better. It breaks my heart that you are crying so much. I don’t want you to be sad.”
I open and close my mouth before I place my hand over my mouth. I can’t tell him. I promised myself yesterday that I wouldn’t tell him and I was about to.
“Come on, Little Pet,” he gently says. “Talk to me. I’m really worried about you.”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper.
“But you need to. It’s not good to hold everything in.
I need you to talk about it so we can stop you from crying about everything,” he tries to reason with me.
“I know it might be hard, but I need you to tell me. I’m here for you.
I will always listen to you and not judge.
But you need to be willing to talk about it so that we can get through it. ”
And I want to do that so badly. I thought about it during the night when I woke up from a dream and this morning as he fed me. I want to tell him everything, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.
“Come on, Little Pet. Talk to me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. I just need you to pay attention to me and tell me what is going on.” he lifts my head up so we make eye contact. “I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s going on.”
I sniffle and blink several times, stopping myself from being so upset. Now is not the time to start again. If he knows I am going to cry from his words, he might figure it out.
“I can try to guess, but it will be so much easier and faster if you just tell me so that everything can move on,” he gently says. “We will get through things together now. You will never be alone again.”
And that’s what I’m worried about. That he is going to be so attached doing all these things for me. When he gets bored, he will stop and send me back to the space station.
“Just be mean to me,” I whisper and close my eyes. “Just be mean to me and pretend you don’t care about anything that I do.”
“Nora, look at me,” he calmly says.
I shake my head. There is no way I can look at him after saying that. He just gave a speech, where he told me he wants to take care of me, and I replied that he should be mean to me.
Who does that?
Apparently, me, but everything I said is the truth. He should be cruel to me so I don’t get used to his kindness. Especially when something happens later on, down the road.
“Why do you want me to be mean to you?” he asks. “Look at me in the eyes and tell me why.”
“I can’t.” My voice breaks.
“Nora, look at me. Now,” he commands.
I find myself opening my eyes and looking at him. He doesn’t look happy, and I pull my head back.
“Tell me why I should be mean to you. Why do you think that?” he asks.
I open and close my mouth several times, weighing whether I should actually tell him or not. It would make everything so much easier if I told him so that he could get on with it and start being mean to me. I’ve already prepared my heart and mind for it.
I can’t risk that.
“Nora, I won’t ask again. Tell me why I should be mean to you,” he states.
“This is a serious matter, and I need you to talk to me. I don’t want to be mean to you, but I will if you want me to.
I will spank you and show you that I care about you.
That is me being mean, but I don’t think that is the kind of cruelness you are talking about. ”
It’s not. But maybe if he did spank me, it would be easier for me to get into the mindset that he isn’t going to be good to me.
“Why?” he asks.
“I can’t,” I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes.
“Why not?” he asks.
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
It is part of the truth. If he finds out, he might do the opposite of what I want him to do. But he might drop the act sooner than he wants because I knew what he was trying to do.
“Tell me,” he demands.
“Be mean to me so I don’t get used to you being nice. And then, when you send me back to the space station, it will hurt less!” I yell, my eyes locked with his.