Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
“I had a nightmare,” she says, her eyes focusing on me. “I dreamed I was back in the slave pens and no one was coming for me.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I set my blaster back in its spot tucked between the mattress and the wall. “You’re not there. You’re here, with me. Go back to sleep.”
She doesn’t move. And when I turn to look at her again, her lower lip is trembling, her eyes shiny. “It felt real.”
“It wasn’t real.” I turn on my side, my back to her. “Go to sleep.”
It’s quiet in my room for a moment, and my senses prickle. Then I feel the bed dip slightly, and the silly, foolish fluffit crawls into my bed and presses herself against me. “You said I should start demanding things more, right? Well, I’ve decided this is my bed now.” Her voice is trembling, as if she doesn’t even believe herself. “This is my bed and I’m going to sleep here.”
“Is that so?” I’m amused at her. This is where she draws a hard line? This is where she fights back?
“Yes,” Dora says, her voice firmer. She presses herself up against me, her breasts brushing against my back. She tucks her smaller body against mine and slides an arm around my waist. “And you don’t have to leave, of course. You can stay. I’m willing to share my bed.”
This is quite amusing. I love when someone surprises me, and my little fluffit has surprised me after all. “I appreciate the largesse.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, voice sleepy. “Now go back to sleep.”
I’m afraid to move a muscle, but I can’t stop grinning. Tiny, terrified little Dora has decided to fight back after all. Maybe she’s not a hopeless case. “Just mind the horns if you’re going to sleep on that side.”
“’Kay,” she tells me sleepily. “Night, Bethiah.”
“Goodnight, Fluffit.”
“I’m going to find out what that is someday.”
I smirk to myself. “Go ahead.”
I remain still and quiet, waiting to see if Dora peels herself off of my back now that I’m not kicking her out of bed. My tail is trapped between our bodies, and her arm remains locked around my waist. Every once in a while, she shifts, and I can feel her small nose bump against my back. I really should kick her out of bed. If she shares mine, people are going to assume she’s my pleasure slave.
And yet…I don’t kick her out. I tuck my arm over hers and close my eyes, drifting off to sleep.
Seven
DORA
A tiny part of me is surprised when I wake up the next morning and find that I’m still in Bethiah’s bed, the big spoon to her little one. I really thought she’d kick me out, but she doesn’t.
She doesn’t kick me out the next night, either, or the next. It’s like it’s been established that yes, now we sleep together. We squeeze into her bed and I cling to her all night long and she allows it. Is it all because I demanded to stay, I wonder? Or is it because she feels sorry for me? Is it because my nightmares don’t happen when I’m tucked against her? Whatever it is, I’ll take it. But I’m emboldened by her permissiveness when it comes to bedtime, and I decide to push it a bit further.
“Show me how to fly the ship,” I demand the next day, since demanding is apparently Bethiah’s love language.
And she does. She lets me sit in her chair and stands over my shoulder, pointing out buttons and controls. There are so many that they all blur together in my mind, especially since I can’t tell the squiggles of writing apart. But the next day I try again. And the next. I start to learn that this squiggle that looks like an exploding carrot means “vid cam” and this button that has a melted star on it toggles the rest of the control panel to light up. I’m getting somewhere at least.
Now that I’m forcing Bethiah to include me, it feels less lonely. In fact, it feels like we’ve returned to that easy friendship we had back when we were on the Little Sister and she decided to be my friend. I’m learning a lot about Bethiah, most of all that when she decides someone’s getting too close, she pushes them away again, and that I need to push back. It makes me wonder if she’s all steel inside, or if it’s just swagger and putting on a brave face. I know what that’s like.
Well, I don’t really, since my “brave face” involves tears and cowering. But if I could put on a brave face, I imagine it’d be a lot like Bethiah’s careless adventure-seeking. She acts like she doesn’t give a toot, but I think she does.
Maybe she could be a little less careless from time to time, though. This particular day, she’s showing me the controls. “Can you toggle the vid screen?” she asks.