EIGHT
I choke on the liquid; it overflows out of my mouth. Daddy quickly sits me upright and pats my back.
“You’re okay,” Daddy gently says. “Everything is going to be okay. Just slowly push air out of your lungs, and the liquid will leave your windpipe.”
I shake my head and try to suck in a breath of air. My lungs want air; they don’t want me to get rid of what’s in there already.
“Do as Daddy says, and you will be okay.” Daddy pats my back again. “I would never do anything to harm you.”
I don’t know about that, but I do as he says, pushing the little air left in my lungs out. Tears pool in my eyes.
“Just a little more,” Daddy encourages. “You can do it.”
I shake my head and suck in a breath, but cough as my lungs seize.
“No, Little pet. You aren’t allowed to do that.” He keeps patting my back. “Blow out. Just a little more.”
Tears run down my face as I attempt to blow out. My lungs burn, begging me to fill them. But worry churns in my stomach at the thought of taking a breath and going into a coughing fit.
“Such a good Little pet. Now, slowly take a breath in,” Daddy commands. “Slow and easy.”
I look into his eyes, and he cups my face.
“Everything is going to be okay. Just take a slow and steady breath, and you’ll be just fine,” he soothes me. “It won’t bother your lungs if you do as I say.”
I want to ask him how he is so sure, but I can’t.
“Come on, Little pet. Just take in a small breath.” Daddy runs his thumb across my cheek. “Be a good girl.”
I take a shallow breath in, and my lungs thank me.
“Another small breath,” he reminds me, and I inhale, but slightly bigger than the one before. “Don’t be greedy, it will only make things worse. I know you want to fill those lungs up, but do as Daddy says, and before you know it, you will be able to.”
I continue to take little breaths in, and before I know it, I’m breathing normally.
“Such a good pet for listening to Daddy,” he praises me.
I slump against his body, closing my eyes.
“Tired?” he asks.
I nod and don’t say anything.
“Let’s get you on your back and drinking the rest of your bottle.” Daddy moves my body before I can say anything.
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, fear rolling inside of me at the thought of choking.
“It was Daddy’s fault. I shouldn’t have talked to you about something like that,” he gently says. “I won’t do it again. I’ll only talk about happy things, or we’ll sit in silence as you feed.”
I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Daddy places the nipple in my mouth.
“Suckle,” he commands. “Yamal should be here any minute now.”
There is a knock on the door, and I start to suckle. What if he is here to put a catheter in me without me knowing? What if he decides that I need a lot more done to my body
My breathing picks up, and Daddy runs his hand up and down my arm.
“You’re okay,” he whispers. “Nothing bad is going to happen. This is going to help you calm down. No one is going to ask you any questions or talk to you while you finish your bottle, understand?”
