“Not a chance. Maybe not ever.” He shakes his head as he takes my bottle and carries me into the living room.
I can’t keep from giggling. “Daddy…”
“I’m serious. Do you have any idea how scared I was?” He sits in the middle of the couch, still cradling me.
“Yes, Daddy. I know you were scared, but it’s over now. I’m fine.”
“That fucker tasered you. He fucking tasered my girl.”
My breath hitches, and my eyes go wide. For one thing, Daddy never gets this upset, and he rarely cusses. I’ve learned a lot of new words since he purchased me, some of which areverycolorful. Fucker is a strong one.
But what’s more important than his use of profanity is the fact that he called me hisgirl. Not his pet. Hisgirl.
“Daddy…” I wriggle one arm free from the cocoon of blankets and cup his face.
He sets his hand over mine and slides my palm around to kiss it. “You’re my world, Isla. My entire life flashed before my eyes when I realized that man wanted to take you from me.”
“He couldn’t have. I was securely attached to you. He didn’t have a chance.” It doesn’t escape my notice that Daddy just called me by my name. My real name.
Daddy shakes his head. “He could have done something to knock me out or incapacitate me in some way.”
“I would have still been attached to you,” I point out.
“Until he cut off my hand,” Daddy growls.
I gasp. His imagery is not something I need.
His brow is furrowed, and his nostrils are flaring with every inhale. He’s upset, more than I’ve ever seen him. I’m not sure I’m capable of soothing him, but I have to try.
Before I can think of anything to say, he starts rambling. “They’re going to increase security in the building, so those who don’t live here can’t get past the front desk without clearance. My boss is arranging for two people to escort us from our apartment to work and back daily. I’ll hire someone to increase the safety features inside our home.”
I’m focused on the way he keeps indicating this apartment is “ours,” not just “his.” He’s never spoken like this before. Suddenly, he’s giving me human qualities like “girl,” and including me in our relationship as an “us.” He even called me Isla. It seems like there’s reason to hope he’ll stop constantly referring to me as a pet.
I’m now strong enough to push to sitting on his lap, and I shrug out of the tight blanket wrapped around me. I don’t evencare that my chest is bare. In fact, I’m glad. I need more skin-on-skin contact with him.
I rise up and wrap my arms around his neck. “I love you, Daddy.” The words come out easily, even though the thought is a new one that has just snuck up on me.
Daddy tugs the blanket completely away from me and drops it onto the floor behind me, leaving me in nothing but my diaper. “I never in my life expected to understand the meaning of that emotion, but I love you, too, Isla.”
My heart soars. All my problems seem to fade into the background as this giant alien man holds me tight, rocking me, kissing my neck. Eventually, his lips make their way to mine, and I moan as he licks the seam of my mouth.
I part for him, letting his tongue in, wondering if it will grow in my mouth the way it grows when he puts it inside my pussy. He’s never kissed me on the lips before. It’s so much more intimate. I feel connected to him in a way I haven’t before.
I want more. I want to crawl inside him.
He’s demanding and overprotective. He keeps me collared and leashed. He forces me to use a diaper and take bottles. He treats me like a baby, or in this case, a pet.
But he adores me. I’ve never seen him so scared as he was when that man attacked us. I doubt he’s ever been so frightened. His methods are unusual. I don’t know how long it will take me to accept my fate. Years probably. And I will always have lingering hopes that he will stop treating me like a pet.
I’m not a dog or a cat. I’m a human. But to him, an Earthlingisa pet. From what I’ve read, the people on Earth had strong bonds with their pets. Sometimes, they loved them more than any other humans. They often treated them better than humans, too.
Is it like that for me with Daddy?
Does it matter?
Maybe I shouldn’t care why he loves me. It’s more important that hedoes. He can’t change that he thought he was buying a pet.
His huge hands roam up and down my back.