Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
After that, I found the fur bodysuit and put it on, delighting in the sensuous feel of the short, dense, silky fur against my bare skin. I especially liked the way the suit rubbed my nipples and my hairless pussy mound—my libido was definitely awake now that I was feeling better.
Not that it’ll do me much good, I thought as I checked my appearance in the mirror. After disobeying Sir and leaving the top floor by myself and nearly getting killed, I might never earn my first orgasm.
Well, at least I could look forward to Sir’s hands on my body and his candalla inside me, I thought hopefully. I missed the way it fucked me and filled me, even if I wasn’t allowed to come while it did so.
But for right now, what I wanted most was those chocolate chip pancakes. Deciding I looked all right in the sleek fur bodysuit, I left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen.
THIRTY-NINE
SIR
I could tell how eager little one was by the way she came into the food prep area. She was practically bouncing on the soles of her feet. She was definitely feeling better, I thought with approval, as I watched her practically dance over to where I was standing, holding the control band of the Matter Synthesizer in one hand. But she was also getting much too thin.
Little one seemed to like the idea of getting thinner—it was apparently a standard of beauty in her backwards culture. But without her full, bountiful curves, she didn’t look healthy to me. I was eager to get her back to the lovely, plump state she’d been in when I had first bought her from the Commercians.
Which was one reason I had finally relented and was going to let her try the Matter Synthesizer. The other reason was the fact that I thought she had a point—my ship, which should be attuned only to me—had listened to her and responded when she was in need. Also, her brain was complex enough to master written and spoken Korgish.
The Matter Synthesizer was part of the ship and it responded only to complex brain waves. I thought that little one might very well be able to make it work—though I was determined to keep a close eye on her and make her stop at the first sign of danger.
“Well? Can I try it?” she asked eagerly, already holding her hand out for the control band.
“Not so fast,” I cautioned her. “First I want you to promise that if you feel even the tiniest bit of a headache or any pain at all that you’ll let me know. These shock-a-lot ship pancakes might be important to you but they are not more important than keeping your brain intact.”
“That’s chocolate chip pancakes,” she corrected me. “And I know, Sir—as much as I love pancakes, I don’t want to go brain dead trying to make them. I’ll tell you if I have any pain at all—honestly, I will.”
I sighed.
“Recent past experience has taught me I shouldn’t trust you when it comes to your own well-being, you know.”
Little one put her hands on her hips and looked up at me indignantly.
“Sir! I had a very good reason to go downstairs on O’nagga Nine! I had to try and help that girl—her name is ‘Natalie’ by the way. I—”
“Think before you say another word,” I interrupted her, my voice dropping to a growl. “Do you really want to take your punishment now, on an empty stomach?”
Little one swallowed hard and her big brown eyes went wide.
“No, Sir,” she whispered, looking suddenly abashed. “No, I…no.”
I almost felt sorry for her, the way her little body trembled all over as she spoke. But I steeled myself against pity—she must be punished. She must be taught never to frighten me by risking herself so foolishly again!
Still, that was a matter for later. For now, we had other things to think about.
“Here,” I said, leaning down to place the control band over her head. She had no horns to get in the way, like I did, so it was easy enough to get the golden wire snug against her temples. It was sized for me but it shrank obligingly to fit little one as I placed it on her head.
“Okay…” Her eyes were wide as she pressed her fingertips to the wire around her temples. “Now, what?”
“Now close your eyes and picture what you want and send those thoughts to the Matter Synthesizer—the same way you sent your thought to the ship on O’nagga Nine when you needed to get inside,” I told her.
“All right.” She closed her eyes tightly and a look of concentration came over her lovely face, brow furrowed, and her bottom lip caught in her little white teeth.
“Concentrate,” I told her, watching carefully for any signs of danger or pain. “Think of how the food you want to eat smells, how it tastes, the texture as you bite into it, the flavor spreading over your tongue…”