Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
When I need to pee, I hold it in because I know I’ll be left sitting in a wet diaper for a long time because of my stubbornness. I’m not done fuming yet.
My mind wanders in a million directions. My current plight is depressing. I’m a caged animal on a planet I’m not familiar with. I’ve never seen the outside because I was drugged when I arrived.
The only particulars I know about this planet come from me looking out the window from many stories up. I can judge from what I’ve seen and learned that Venkorians are an advanced species, far more advanced than the humans on Earth ever were. Everything I’ve seen in Daddy’s apartment, this office, and out the window looks futuristic to me.
This collar I’m wearing is a translation device. We certainly didn’t have those on Earth. And how does Daddy understand what I’m saying? It seems he simply does. Apparently, he can understand any language.
I wrap my fingers around the metal device and grit my teeth. I don’t want to wear a collar. It’s heavy and hideous. It makes me feel owned.
Which I am.
Owned.
I can’t wrap my head around that. It’s too overwhelming to think I’ll be spending the rest of my life owned by a giant man who makes every decision about my body.
A giant man who pleasures me frequently… There is that.
Is it worth it, though? Won’t I suffer from tremendous resentment for years to come?
He bought me, and he intends to control me.
TWELVE
I think back on the only life I’ve really ever known: living on the space station. I was four when I was sent away from Earth. I barely recall much of anything from before then. Most of my memories begin on the space station.
The sadness I felt when I first boarded was tremendous. A small child, torn from her parents and her planet. I cried a lot. But then I had to pull it together because there were babies living on that home away from home. So many babies. They were crying all the time because there weren’t enough adults to take care of them.
It fell on me and other toddlers to care for the infants. I learned to feed and change a baby in my fourth year of life. I grew up fast. I learned to read early, so I could help the adult women. I found out I enjoyed reading and learning, probably because those were the only times I got a break from working.
Babies called me “Mama” because I took care of them and they didn’t remember their own mothers at all. Within months, I barely remembered mine.
Tears come to my eyes as I recall those early years. So much work. Every day was exhausting. Eventually, the babies got older. The workload didn’t lessen; it just shifted. We needed more food to feed all those mouths. We worked day and night, harvesting our plant-based diet.
Everyone is grown now. Adults over the age of twenty. But life is still difficult on the space station. Long days working. Short nights sleeping. Do I miss it?
I think about my new life of leisure. I’m no longer working myself to the bone. My fingers aren’t sore from digging potatoes. The skin on them has healed. My nails are healthier. My hair is, too. It’s always been thick and long, but Daddy washes it with a gentle soap and conditions it until it’s soft. He brushes it out, taking his time not to tug against my scalp.
I’m cleaner than I was on the space station. There isn’t a shortage of water here. It’s abundant. Daddy lets me sit in the tub and play. He doesn’t leave me unattended, of course, but it’s freeing.
I’m never hungry. He feeds me nutritious food on a firm schedule. Until this moment. I’m pretty hungry right now. My stomach is growling as I stare at the bottle and ignore the stupid kibble. The thought of that pet food in a bowl makes me want to scream.
Daddy changes me every time I wet myself. I should be grateful. Instead, I want him to let me use a toilet. Peeing in a diaper is humiliating. Being changed, especially when I poop, is degrading.
I shift my thoughts to the jammies I’m wearing. They’re so soft and warm. I was cold until he started dressing me in them. They’re definitely babyish, but appropriate, considering the fact that I’m only permitted to crawl.
It’s been quiet outside my cage for a while, but someone else enters, and Daddy has a conversation with whoever it is in whatever language he speaks. It makes no sense to me, and the sounds are so odd it’s nearly annoying.
Daddy doesn’t pay me any attention. He leaves me lying here for hours. I don’t know how long. I’m never aware of the time. I don’t know the durations of the days on this planet or even how many moons it might have. Do all planets orbit one sun? I don’t know that, either. I’ve only seen one out the window of his apartment, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t another out of my line of sight.