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 hisfear 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 isno. 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.”