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Thorn scoops me up, blanket and all, and carries me off to what must be a bedroom. I make this deduction by the presence of a very large saurian-sized bed. You could fit ten people in this big, soft space.
“You don’t leave this bed without my permission,” he says. “Understand? If I find you out of bed, you will be spanked soundly and a little more of your freedom will be taken from you.”
He continues to make threats, but I am already falling asleep. All I can hear is a low, growling rumble as I drop off to the deepest and most rejuvenating sleep I’ve had in years.
A great many more than eight hours later…
When I wake up, light is streaming through massive windows. I feel relaxed and refreshed. I feel like I’ve slept for months, maybe. My entire brain feels different. So much so that for a moment I not only forget where I am, I forget who I am.
The light calls me, so I slide out of the very tall bed and pad across the floor to the window…
SMACK!
A large hand sweeps through the air, catching me so hard I find myself rising up onto my toes.
“What the..!” I squeal the question as my hands shoot back to cover my tender posterior.
Thorn is behind me, glowering in all his scaly glory.
“I told you not to get out of bed without permission.”
“I forgot!”
“You’d better find some way to remember, otherwise you are going to be very sore very often. I do not tolerate disobedience in my territory. You will be atoning for this for a very long time as it is. Starting today.”
“What?”
“First count for you to answer, crashing recklessly into my territory, potentially causing loss of life. I doubt you were flying your machine in a responsible manner. You could have killed someone. Someone important to someone else. You could have killed yourself. You’ve had no regard for yourself.”
“That’s because of the implant, which is no longer functioning.”
“I’m not going to give you a free pass just because you had an implant in your head. You were still in control of your actions. You were still responsible for them. Fear is not the only reason we don’t do dangerous things. We don’t do dangerous things because of the danger they are not only to us, but to others. We are careful, because everybody else needs us to be. Your behavior is not reckless only because of a lack of fear. It is selfish.”
I think back to my crew, as his words echo words I heard just before I was jettisoned. My first mate called me selfish too. Thorn’s words cut deeper because they are fresher and because there is already a wound where they land. I hate that the words are true. I am selfish. I didn’t start out that way. When I was young, I was anything but selfish. I wanted to be everything for my family, and for the people I had grown up with.
“Do you understand why you are receiving this first round of punishment?”
I bite my lower lip and nod. I don’t trust myself to speak. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to feel any weaker than I already do. I just want to take whatever I have coming and get it over with.
“Bend over the bed, Suli.” He gives the order in a firm, but softer tone.
“I don’t want to.” I find myself whimpering and squirming in front him, hoping he won’t punish me and hoping that he will too. It’s so strange to want this punishment and this absolution. It almost feels as though he can fix what has felt unfixable in me for so long.
I know it’s nuts to look for someone else to fix me. I know I have to fix myself. I know everybody is responsible for themselves in the end. But it’s nice to maybe imagine for a second that there might be someone in all creation capable of actually handling me.
“I won’t let you do here what you have done across the universe. I won’t let you turn my territory into the Suli show. I won’t let you misbehave with me. I will be harsh with you. I will make you sore. I will be strict and you will be very sorry when you step out of line with me — which I know you will.”
He spins me around, picks me up, and pushes me down on the bed, keeping me easily in place with one hand. It is all so easy for him. I don’t weigh anywhere near enough as I would need to in order to fight him. Underneath his palm, I am a helpless little wretch about to get everything she deserves.
“I’ve gotten this little leather lash for you,” he declares, showing me what he has in his hand. “It’s a scaled down version of the one they used to use to discipline out-of-control young whelps. I think it will suit you very well. You are an absolute brat, and this will thrash it out of you — I am very nearly certain of that.”
“Can’t I have breakfast first?”
“You’ll have breakfast when you’ve been punished.”
With that, punishment begins. There is something of a formality to this, a strictness and a determination in the way he is acting.
The lash lands with a hot, stinging bite. I feel my entire body contort for a moment, then relax as heat floods through me. I am rather good at being beaten, if I do say so myself. It’s a talent, I think. Not one I’ve had the chance to explore greatly in general, but one I’m embracing now as my saurian master proceeds to lash me thoroughly, going back and forth from cheek to cheek until he sees fit to stop.
