Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Remaining silent, I ponder my options. They are few. This is the harshest punishment he has doled out. And it becomes more unbearable with each passing minute. My legs are tired from not being used. My muscles strain from the gravitational force I’m still not fully accustomed to.
I’m freezing.
I’m shaking.
I’m angry.
Mostly I’m angry with myself for pushing his buttons. I knew something like this was a possibility.
Just when I think I might actually collapse, he speaks from behind me. He’s closer than I expected. I hadn’t realized where he was. “You may turn around, naughty girl.”
I sniffle as I slowly right myself from leaning into the corner. He’s sitting in his rolling desk chair, only a few feet from me, which puts him at eye level.
He’s calm and collected, as always. Even when I misbehave, he remains so. He holds out a hand. “Come, Little pet.”
I’m uncertain for a moment whether he intends for me to walk toward him or drop down and crawl. Because he’s holding his hand up high and gives a slight nod, I choose to take the few steps on my legs.
As soon as I’m within reach, he leans forward, wraps his arms around me, and pulls me between his thighs. He hugs me close, rubbing my back. “My Little pet is having a hard time accepting her new life.”
I sniffle again, trying not to cry harder.
He eases his grip and lifts me so I’m sitting on his thigh, my legs dangling between his. It’s so awkward because I’m completely naked.
Daddy tips my chin back, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I’ve spoken to Yamal. He has records on all the other human pets who have been purchased. Guess how many of them are allowed to walk on two legs?”
I try to lower my eyes, but Daddy pinches my chin. Licking my lips, I mutter, “None?”
“That’s right. And very few are permitted to use a receptacle other than diapers to go potty. There are good reasons for both. With regards to walking, it’s a very bad idea to set a precedent that gives a pet that much freedom. Walking leads to running and skipping and climbing, and all manner of things that cause accidents. I won’t have you doing anything dangerous. You are not permitted to leave a room on your own. And you’re definitely not ever going to have permission to climb onto furniture or reach for things I did not hand you.
“I may occasionally allow you to stand in order to bathe you in the shower or fix your hair while you’re between my knees, but as a means of getting from point A to point B—no. End of discussion. Do not ask again. If I ever change my mind, it will be on my terms, not yours. If you mention it again, I will strip you naked, and you can spend the day in your kennel on a pee pad. It won’t be pleasant.”
I wince. I’m aware Daddy has a kennel. He hasn’t forced me to enter it yet. I’ve been worried such a day is coming. It’s a small cage next to his desk, where it ominously mocks me every time I look at it. I would barely be able to sit upright in it. And if I were to lie down, I would have to pull my knees up to my chest. The thought of sitting on a pee pad, covered in my own urine for any length of time, makes me think twice about misbehaving.
“As for diapers,” Daddy continues, “it’s simply not practical to allow pets to pee in a receptacle. We’ve discussed this. I would have to stop working to take you to the bathroom. It would require removing your clothes, holding you over the potty, and cleaning you up. Another precedent Yamal has advised against. Again, one more word about using the toilet will land you in the kennel for the day.”
I try not to cry. “Yes, Sir.”
He kisses me briefly on the lips. “The most important thing for you to understand, Little pet, is that you are my world. It pleases me to take care of you in every way. I prefer that you become completely dependent on me. That includes carrying you when we go out, feeding you, and changing you. I’m not willing to give up any of those. Eventually, you’ll forget how it felt to walk on two legs and stop mourning the loss. You’ll also give up trying to hold in your urine and become diaper-dependent. Both of those are my goals. Try to accept that I will always be your caretaker, and you will always be my Little pet.”
More tears slip down my cheeks, but Daddy wipes them away with the pads of his thumbs. “I know you will be sad sometimes, Little pet, but I hope you will be happy far more often. I want to please you. And I will in every way I can that doesn’t compromise your safety or my desire to take care of your basic needs.”