After removing the top from my crib, he pops my pacifier out.
I immediately let out a whimper. I can’t help it.
He chuckles. “I’m still not sure I like you becoming addicted to that.”
I reach out, trying to grab it from him, but he playfully yanks it too far away and sets it high on a dresser. I’d never be able to get to it there unless I opened the drawers and used them as stairs to climb the piece of furniture.
That gives me an idea. Maybe I’ll do just that one day in order to provoke him. Because it seems I’m coming up with devious plans to misbehave.
He smirks as he changes my diaper. “You’re thinking awfully hard this morning.”
I widen my eyes dramatically and point at myself. “Me?”
Who am I?
I’m not funny or playful. I don’t break rules. I’ve spent nearly all my twenty years in a serious environment, where everyone worked to keep us all alive. There was always something to do on the space station. And even with our efforts, we were aware we couldn’t sustain ourselves much longer.
We were running out of food, for one thing. That’s pretty important.
Our only hope was being discovered and rescued, but at what cost?
As I stare at Daddy, I begin to wonder if the cost isn’t so bad after all.
I’m more awake this morning, and I have questions.
When he lifts me up, he doesn’t need to support my head as much as he did yesterday.
“What if I get pregnant?” I begin.
He hesitates for a moment, staring at me as he settles me on his hip.
Finally, he chuckles. “My Little pet’s mind is working overtime.”
“Yes.” I turn and reach toward the crib. “Blanket, Daddy.” I’m freezing as I snuggle into him.
His expression is more jovial than yesterday. He grabs the soft material and wraps it around me.
“Also, can I have clothes? And maybe you could put a stool in front of the toilet, so I could use it.”
Yozef is humored. He hasn’t answered me yet, but he’s not frustrated.
So I continue, “When can I eat real food? When can I go outside? Do you know I’ve never been outside in my life? Do you have grass? Can I walk in it? When can I see my friends? Do they live close by? Are your people planning to bring all the women from my space station? Why are we being bought like slaves? Do you have real pets? Like puppies or kittens? Why would you think we would be unintelligent beings? How do you think we were able to maintain the space station for twenty years if we were stupid? What if?—”
Daddy clamps a hand over my mouth, stopping me from continuing. “Maybe I should let you have that pacifier all the time, after all,” he teases.
I’m wide awake, and I feel safer than I have in days. Alert. And I have questions. I want answers. So, I roll my eyes and tug on his wrist to free my mouth. “Daddy…”
“Let’s get a bottle in you. I’ll do my best to answer your questions, but curtail the insolence, naughty girl. I’m seeing that you are indeed more sentient than expected. But for about a million reasons, you are, and will always be, owned and kept secure. If you try to argue with me on that issue, I will punish you every time.” He lifts a brow.
My heart clenches. Is there no hope he will see my side of things? I have to try.
“Before you risk angering me, how about you let me explain some things to you, Little pet?”
“Okay…” I breathe out dramatically.
“Sassy, too. So many facets to my Little pet,” he grumbles as he fixes a bottle for me.
“I’m going to get tired of that formula, Daddy,” I say indignantly.
