I said nothing. Couldn't speak past the sob lodged in my throat.
"Rest now. Process what happened. Tomorrow we'll explore further." His footsteps moved toward the door. "Oh, and Lilah? You may touch yourself tonight if you need to. Consider it a reward for trying something difficult."
The door closed, leaving me alone with the echo of my destruction.
I'd come from words. From two words and a piece of silicone and the complete annihilation of my self-image. My body had betrayed me in a new, deeper way. Shown him truths I'd never wanted to acknowledge.
The pacifier lay on the bed where I'd spit it out, innocent-looking and devastating. Evidence of what I was becoming. What he was making me.
What I was letting him make me.
"Free time until lunch,"the speaker announced."Remember to ask nicely, little one."
Little one. The words made something clench in my chest now, charged with new meaning.
I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to pretend I couldn't still taste the pacifier. Couldn't still feel the ghost of that impossible orgasm. Couldn't still hear his voice saying "good baby" like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Tomorrow, he'd said. We'll explore further.
I pressed my face into the pillow and wondered how much further there was to fall.
Identity
Day four started wrong.
"Good morning, little one. It's 7:00 AM. Time to start your day."
I rolled over, every muscle protesting. The bruises from yesterday's belt had bloomed into a masterpiece of purple and black across my ass. The memory of the pacifier—of coming from words alone—sat like acid in my throat.
"Compliance with morning routine affects privileges. You have five minutes to get up."
I dragged myself vertical, moving like an old woman. The bathroom door opened at my approach, same as always. But something was different. The pink toothbrush had been replaced with a white one, and on the handle, in tiny letters: BUNNY.
"What the fuck?" I picked it up, staring at the word like it might bite. "Where's my regular toothbrush?"
"Bunny's toothbrush is available for use."
"My name is Lilah."
Silence.
I tried again. "Hello? I need my toothbrush. The normal one."
Nothing. The speaker remained dead.
"This is ridiculous." I set the Bunny toothbrush down, crossing my arms. "I want to speak to someone. Anyone. Dr. Mire, if he's listening."
Still nothing.
Fine. I'd brush my teeth with my finger before I'd use something labeled with a name that wasn't mine. The shower worked normally, at least, though I noticed the shampoo bottle now had a small bunny sticker on it. Cute. Real cute.
When I emerged, wrapped in my towel, today's clothes waited: a soft blue dress with—for fuck's sake—tiny embroidered bunnies along the hem.
"Absolutely not." I addressed the ceiling. "I want different clothes."
Silence.
"Hello? I know you can hear me. This is—I need different clothes. Please."
