I scream again. It’s shocking and still too cold. I hate that my arms are stretched out away from me. I’m a prisoner in a worldwhere I don’t speak the language. What is going to happen to me?
TWO
Sputtering and crying through the water running down my face, I try to maintain a supply of oxygen, but it’s hard. I keep inhaling water instead of air, and eventually I choke, sending myself into a coughing fit.
Finally, the man stops spraying so close to my face, giving me a chance to catch my breath. The water is rising around me, but it’s only a few inches deep so far. I’ve never been this chilly. Goosebumps have come up all over my body. My nipples are hard points. Now that water is no longer raining down over me, the air in the room is making my wet body feel like I’m sitting in a freezer.
I flinch when the door to the room opens again. This time, the angry man in the black suit from earlier enters. His brow is deeply furrowed as he walks toward me. His gaze is fixed on mine. I assume his words are for the ears of the white-clad men, but he doesn’t look at them, just me.
Quivering with fear, I try to lean back as far as I can, but I only have a few inches of slack.
He’s so intense, but he’s also attractive. At least, I think he is. How would I know? The sum total of all the men I’ve seen in twenty years is seven giant aliens.
This one, though… He captures my attention more than the others. Even though he’s scowling, and I have no idea whether his wrath is directed at me or not, he’s still oddly appealing. His hair is thick and brown. His eyes are also brown, so dark they’re almost black. His skin is tanned. From exposure to sunlight?
I’ve never been exposed to the sun. I’m very pale. It stands out in contrast to my nearly black hair that’s currently hanging in thick hanks over my shoulders and down my back. I can almost sit on it because it hasn’t been cut for many years.
Mesmerized by the angry man, I find myself staring directly into his eyes. I’m scared. He might punish me for daring to meet his gaze, but instead, his face softens slightly. He grips my chin and holds it firmly, forcing me to tip my head way back. I don’t look away. I don’t care that I’m naked. I won’t let him think I’m weak.
He’s at least three times my size. I couldn’t possibly take him on in a battle of strength, but I’ll do my best in a battle of wills.
He seems to search my gaze. I have no idea what he finds, but one of the men in white hands him something before the other stands behind me and grabs my head with both huge hands.
Renewed panic races through me, making me cry out. I’m totally immobilized.
The angry man is holding a strange metal circle. It has two parts to it, and it’s hinged open. He pulls it wider and closes in on me until he wraps it around my neck.
A squeal escapes my lips. I can’t avoid whatever this is. I’m unable to move my head even an inch. While I’m still trying to free myself and whimpering, the angry man adjusts something on the side of the ring.
It’s a collar. There’s no avoiding that reality.
The next time he speaks, I gasp. His words are in English.
“Can you understand me, Little pet?”
My eyes widen as I swallow. How am I suddenly able to understand what he’s saying?
“Are you certain she’s capable of comprehending language or even speech?” the man holding my head asks.
I growl. “I’m not an idiot,” I blurt out.
The angry man finally stops scowling. In fact, one corner of his lips lifts in a slight grin. “Ah. She does speak.” He grips my chin again, leaning in closer to my face, and continues, “Stop this naughty behavior right now. You’ll sit like a good Little pet while I wash the vomit and urine off your skin. If you keep screaming and carrying on, I will spank your naughty bottom. Do I make myself clear?”
I shudder. His tone is firm and demanding. I don’t like his words, though. I swallow hard, not responding. On the one hand, I’m grateful I can finally understand him. On the other hand, he seems to think I’m a pet of some sort. I can’t let him treat me like an animal. I’ve been caged and stripped naked, so apparently, on some level, he does see me as less than human.
“You’ll answer me when I ask you a question, Little pet. I expect you to speak to me respectfully. You will call me Daddy. If you understand me, say, ‘Yes, Daddy.’”
I lick my lips. My voice is caught in my throat. This is so degrading.
His grip on my chin tightens to the point of pain.
Wincing, I realize I have no choice but to acquiesce. “Yes, Daddy,” I mutter.
His smile grows. “That’s better.”
“You speak English, then?” I ask. It’s my most pressing question. I’m so confused.
He shakes his head. “No, Little pet. Your collar acts as a translator. It allows you to understand me speaking in my own language.”