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Daddy drapes a soft blanket over me before petting my messy hair and my back. He even pats my bottom over the blanket and diaper. “Deep breaths, Little pet. Rest. I promise it will all seem much better after a long sleep.”

I can’t stop trembling. So many thoughts are running through my mind. Are all my friends in a similar predicament? I suspect so. I bet some of them are handling this better than others. I’m not handling it well at all.

“Don’t move from your bed, Little pet. You will stay here until I give you permission to move. You won’t be able to crawl very far at this point, anyway, because I used a very short chain. In the future, when I think you’re able to make good choices, I’ll give you a longer lead. Tonight, I don’t want you to have the temptation.”

I whimper. I can’t seem to get warm. I might be permanently chilly on Venkoria, especially without clothes. The only times I’ve been warm have been the times Daddy held me. He’s not touching me enough now. His warm hand is on the other side of my cover.

I’m too restless. I can’t calm down enough to relax. It seems impossible. My world is upside down, and everything seems hopeless.

Daddy leaves the room, and tears fall down my cheeks. I don’t even swipe at them. I don’t care. Sadness makes me feel heavier.

I’m aware of Daddy returning to my side. Even if I were blindfolded, I would sense him approaching. My eyes are closed, but he lifts the edge of the blanket and tucks something soft into my arms to join the chain.

He’s gone as quickly as he arrived, but I’m trembling as I try to process what he’s given me. When I look down, I know: it’s the T-shirt he was wearing before he took it off. It smells strongly of his essence, and I bury my nose in it.

My body calms more with each inhale.

Finally, I manage to fall asleep.

ELEVEN

I awake to the sound of voices. I’m disoriented and groggy. It seems like I slept hard and for a while, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe gravity is still affecting me.

I can’t make out what anyone is saying, but I hear three voices in the other room: Daddy’s and two other men. They sound angry. It’s unnerving, and I push to sitting.

What if someone has come here to kidnap me? Apparently, that’s a huge threat. As much as I don’t like my situation, at the same time, I don’t want anyone to ever take me from Daddy.

I’m aware that my feelings aren’t rational. If it weren’t for the injection I received that’s drawing me to him, I would be far more furious about my situation. I’m being conditioned to like him. Or, at least, crave him.

My anger over what’s happened to me is lessening, and that infuriates me. I want to be mad. I want to kick and scream. But with every passing hour, I want to please my Daddy more, and that instinct is taking over.

I shiver when the blanket falls off my shoulders. It’s so cold in here. As I listen to what I’m certain is a heated discussion, I hug Daddy’s shirt and my leash against my chest, lowering my face so that every inhale reminds me of him. My pacifier is on the pet bed near me. I must have dropped it in the night.

I glance at the big bed in the room. I assume Daddy slept there, but I was so tired I never heard him come to bed or get up. Now I’m alone.

No one comes to me. I urgently need to pee, so I give up that battle once again and wet my diaper. The next thing I do is shake the T-shirt and pull it over my head. It’s gigantic on me. If I stood, it would nearly reach the floor.

But standing isn’t an option. The chain isn’t long enough to permit me to do so. I would come up short and be bent at the waist. In addition, I’d be punished for standing.

Daddy’s shirt drapes around me. It’s smooth against my skin, and I pull my arms inside so I’m completely covered with this one layer of soft material. The chain is trapped on the inside, hanging heavily between my breasts, and I lift it a few inches and fold my arms around it, so it won’t tug so hard against my collar.

The voices continue, and it eventually occurs to me that I’m not hearing English anymore. My collar isn’t translating.

A door opens and closes. There’s no more talking. Then Daddy rushes into the room. He hurries over to me and touches my collar.

“I’m so sorry, Little pet. We woke you, and I wasn’t here.”

He tips my head back and detaches me from the chain, letting it fall in front of my diaper. Then he swoops me off the floor and into his arms. “Did you sleep well, Little pet?” he asks as he nuzzles my neck.

“Yes, Daddy,” I murmur.

He deposits me on his bed, lifts the shirt to my waist, and opens my diaper.

I don’t protest. There’s no need. Struggling or arguing will get me nowhere.

“I got you something,” Daddy says, smiling.

I narrow my gaze, unsure whether I should be pleased or not. He might have bought me dog bowls or a pretty leash or a tail he intends for me to wag as I crawl. I’m not familiar enough with Vabar or his gifts to react.