That last thought makes me giggle. I’m not responsible for my own cleanliness. If Daddy wants me clean, he’ll give me a bath. In retrospect, I truly enjoyed the last bath, at least the parts where he touched me intimately.
I intentionally let sand fall all over my thighs as I fill a bucket with one of the small shovels. It’s relaxing. Maybe I could get used to this life of leisure. Reading and playing with toys all day? How could I complain?
Then my gaze lowers to the heavy chain hanging between my breasts. It’s tugging on the collar, making the device even more obvious than without the leash.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the weight of it and what it symbolizes. I’m not ignorant or stupid. I may have been raised on a space station, but I’m as educated as I can be. I had access to learning materials.
The collar and leash are meant to remind me I am owned at all times. If I behave, I will be rewarded. If I’m naughty, I will be punished. It’s simple.
What’s not simple is which of those I prefer. I secretly enjoy both. The reward for good behavior is often very desirable. But am I also rewarded when I ignore the rules? I’d argue that getting my bottom spanked was kind of nice in a way. It made me feel deeply. And that root vegetable… I shudder at the memory. It was painful, but that ache oddly resonated in my pussy.
In a strange twist, I look back and realize the first twenty years of my existence were just that.Existing. I had no deep feelings. I didn’t allow myself to think much beyond my current situation. It was too scary. The chances of any of us survivingfor much longer were slim. I didn’t permit myself to hope for rescue.
But rescue came. And now I’m wondering if I wished this into existence.
It’s true that I hoped for anything, but I hadn’t seriously considered being discovered by aliens. I’ve always secretly prayed that there were other space stations like ours. Filled with humans. Perhaps even men. I have no evidence to back that up, but I grasped on to that possibility as a survival mechanism.
I can’t ignore the chain that hangs between my naked breasts. It makes me even more aware of the heaviness. I suppose I could twist it around so the leash reaches down my back, but instead, I pick it up and hold the weight of a section of it in my hands.
Without thinking, I spread my legs with my knees bent, set the bucket between my thighs, and coil the excess chain into the bucket as if it’s one of my toys. It’s not ornamental. It’s thick and probably made of something that can’t be cut. Daddy hasn’t leashed me to the yard as a symbol of my status. He’s done so in a way that no one could possibly kidnap me. Not without removing my collar.
The collar and chain are extremely demeaning, much more so than if he attached a cuff to my wrist or ankle, but someone could cut off my arm or leg and I’d still be alive. Not my head.
I fill the bucket with sand next, and the grains settle around the chain. I really enjoy the texture of the sand. I could sit here all day and play with it, digging my toes into it. I bet it would be fun to dump it out from above my head so that it rains down around me. It’s soothing. It distracts me from the two giant elephants: my nudity and my leash.
SIXTEEN
A shadow comes over me, and I glance up to see Daddy squatting next to me. “You like the sand, Little pet?”
I hesitate, considering the possibility of acting like I don’t care one way or the other, so he can’t use the sandbox as a weapon to get me to behave.
He chuckles as he reaches out to stroke my cheek. “Such a naughty girl. The scent coming off you ever since you climbed into this box tells me all I need to know. You can’t hide your body’s reactions to stimuli, Zoey. I’m keeping a mental list of everything you like and dislike.”
I purse my lips. There’s nothing I can say to refute that.
“Would you like to get in the pool for a while, Little pet?”
My heart rate picks up at the idea. I really do want to, but I’m also scared.
“Don’t worry. I will hold you the entire time. You’ll be safe with me. I’ll even give you swim lessons.”
Swim lessons… That sounds kind of frightening.
“Come. Let’s rinse the sand off you first.” He stands and moves toward an open-air shower at one end of the pool.
I’m mesmerized as he pulls his shirt off. He removes his shoes, socks, and pants next, leaving him in tight underwear. Leavingmeunable to breathe or move.
He’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen, even in pictures. I don’t care if I’m influenced by the injection. My mouth is watering.
When he turns toward me, he’s smiling. The front of his briefs bulges. I’m educated enough to know what’s behind the tight material. How will I ever takethatinto my body?
Daddy snickers as he motions for me to join him. “Come,” he repeats.
I turn to crawl in that direction before remembering I buried my chain in the bucket. After pulling the leash out of the sand, I move toward him like a well-trained pet.
“Good girl,” he praises when I arrive. He turns on the shower, tests it until he’s pleased with the temperature, and then bends to reach under my arms and help me stand. “Do your arms feel strong, Zoey?”
“I think so…” I haven’t thought about it.
