Pets 2: Pani's Story (16 page)

Somewhere down the hall, she heard the soft squeak of a door swinging open. Tall and regal, Etle led a teary-eyed Binnie back into the living room. Holding her little charge’s hand to steady her, she steered Binnie back onto the blanket. With the back of her dress pinned to her shoulders and her panties strangely absent, Binnie gingerly lowered herself to kneel amidst her now forgotten books and toys. She didn’t look at Pani or anyone else for that matter. She simply sat 70

there, hands on her knees, her rosy bottom swollen and so bright and red and hot that Pani could have sworn she felt the heat rising from her skin.

She glance back at Papa over her shoulder. Etle had rejoined the two men and now all three of them were talking quietly amongst themselves and all three were looking right back at her.

Growing more uncomfortable by the second, Pani fingered the doll’s white dress, stole furtive glances at each of her human companions, and then sighed again. Shoulders bowing as she gave in, she played with the doll, her fingers trembling as she quietly changed its clothes.

She even brushed and braided its hair, but all the while, she kept one eye firmly locked on the door, just in case Papa tried to leave without her. For all she knew, this was a temporary visit; a pet Play Date that would end when Papa finally decided she’d been socialized enough. Then they’d go home again, and her life would return to some semblance of normalcy.

A sharp knock at the door started everyone, and Etle quietly excused herself to answer it, smiling cheerfully as she greeted the dark-haired child who had come to visit. Although easily as tall as herself, at first glance Pani judged the child to be around ten or so years. But it was the child’s companion that really caught her attention. His name was Mot. Mot was a middle-aged man, brown haired and bushy bearded, dressed from head to toe in women’s clothing—a costumed blue- and green-striped sundress, longer than he was tall, with a floppy floral hat that covered half his face and a mismatched handbag that he carried draped over one burly arm.

“Oh my God,” she blurted when she saw him.

“Hello,” he replied, raising his purse-laden arm to cast her a tiddling wave with three fingers. His nails had been painted a lovely green to match his dress and his very long brown hair had been carefully and lovingly pulled back into more beribboned ponytails than Pani and her doll together.

Hardly aware of herself, Pani trailed her fingers through the long strands of one of her own ponytails, then sharply recoiled when the little girl came exclaiming over to meet her.

“Pani,” Papa warned. He had tensed, arms folded across his chest as he watched her, ready to grab at her, Pani supposed, if she did anything threatening towards the child. He had a ‘you be good or else’ look all over his face. It was a look she instantly recognized, and it kind of irritated her. Almost as much as the very tall, little girl who bent over her, hands braced upon her knees, grinning and pointing at Pani’s head.

Pani bumped into Sassa and almost fell over, she pulled so far back to avoid the child’s outstretched finger. The child’s arm was longer than Pani had room to retreat, however, and very softly, that finger descended to pet the bridge of Pani’s freckled nose.

“Good girl,” the child told her.

The urge to growl and snap her teeth at that finger was so very, very strong, yet Pani resisted. Not just because Papa repeated her name, deeper, more sternly and all but growling the syllables himself, but because she was not an animal and, despite what they all apparently thought of her, and she wasn’t about to deliberately hurt anybody’s child. Not even one of theirs. Or one rude enough to stand there, poking at her cheeks as she made a game out of counting Pani’s freckles.

Folding her arms across her own chest, her mood darkening rapidly, Pani glared back at Papa. She really was ready to go home now; she hoped he realized that.

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He probably knew her better than she thought considering the way he was hovering nearby, watching her closely and no doubt ready to snatch the child and her poking hand back to safety should Pani lose what little remained of her dwindling sense of humor. So was Mot, she suddenly realized, shifting her gaze to focus on a shadow of movement along her periphery.

“Hi,” he said again when she looked at him. “Just making sure you’re not going to do anything stupid.” He kind of smiled then, as if trying to take some of the sting out having her ponytails grabbed and flapped as if they were wings.

She was rapidly losing her patience and it must be showing. “I’m not going to hurt her, tempting though it might be.”

“Good.” Mot’s beard parted into a wide smile that never quite reached his eyes. “Because while she might be a brat, she’s my brat and it took a lot of years chained to the kitchen stove before my folks finally realized I could be trusted around her. Have you ever been chained to a stove?”

“I’ve had my hair pulled,” Pani said through gritted teeth.

“It’s hot,” Mot said bluntly. “It’s also boring, cramped, and you get stepped on a lot.” Irritated with Mot now too, her expression must have darkened enough that Etle realized things had been pushed just about as far as they were going to without incident. She called the child away and together they disappeared into the adjacent dining room, leaving Pani to rub at her tender scalp.

“Thank you,” Mot said, turning to follow them.

Papa stepped neatly into his place, squatting down to pat her on the head and press a grateful kiss upon her forehead.

“I am really, really ready to go home now,” she told him.

Chucking her gently under the chin, he returned to the Ralhan’s side and struck up a new conversation.

“You’ll get used to it,” Sassa said, scooting over to sit next to Pani again and handing her back the doll.

Pani only just resisted the urge the throw it fitfully across the room.

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“Tea?” Mot asked gamely, holding up the tall, oblong pitcher of steaming liquid and waiting for Pani to cooperate. Everyone else had offered their cups unhesitatingly; Pani was the last hold out. The smell emanating from that oblong party pitcher was enough to curl nostril hairs. Quite frankly, she’d rather play with dolls.

“Pani,” Papa intoned, weary disapproval making his voice seem heavy. It fell about her like a weighted shawl.

Pani felt small, seated as she was upon this oversized chair and tucked up to a table so large that if she weren’t kneeling, her chin wouldn’t even be even with the top. Etle had gone all out laying a formal spread upon the table—bedecking it with pretty white cups and matching saucers, a lovely yellow tablecloth made of lacy, and long-stemmed flowers in a bright blue vase. Everybody else seemed to be enjoying themselves, leaving Pani the odd pet out. She hunched her shoulders, glaring grimly at her cup and wishing she were anywhere else but here.

“No, thank you,” she tried, casting Mot a hopeful look from out beneath her bangs.

Still poised to pour, Mot remained waiting for her to extend her cup. “Come on. It’s not going to kill you to cooperate, and her highness likes for everyone to play.”

“Pani,” Papa said again, growling his frustration. A sure sign that he was losing patience and a spanking would invariably follow.

She didn’t want a spanking, but she didn’t want to drink either. The question fell to a brief mental struggle over which option she didn’t want more.

Shoulders slumping, she unenthusiastically pushed her cup out for Mot to fill. A peek in Papa’s direction showed that her reluctant capitulation had left him far from satisfied. With arms still folded across chest, his feet braced apart and his back as stiff as rebar, he studied her through narrowed eyes, waiting for the inevitable revolt.

Pani sniffled, already feeling very sorry for herself since she knew at one steamy sniff that there was simply no way she’d ever be able to swallow this tea. “Everything here tastes so bitter.”

“Granted, it’s an acquired taste.” Mot set the pitcher down and picked up the tray of cookies Etle had provided them. As with pouring the tea, he served the child first. “Mademoiselle,” he purred at her, and although it was doubtful that she understood the word, she nevertheless giggled as she helped herself to one. So did everyone else, except for Sassa who squealed with delight and grabbed a cookie with each hand. She ate vocally, humming yummy sounds that Pani found impossible to believe.

Mot had made the rounds around the table, giving each tea-party participant a treat until once more the tray came to rest in front of her. Pani looked at the cookies, big and thick, round doughy biscuits that looked like a cross between moldy lumps of hard oatmeal and a dinner roll.

“It’s eat or starve,” he said. “And frankly, you already look as if you’ve starved enough.

Eat.”

Heaving a deep, rumbling sigh, Papa turned her name into another grim warning, and Pani shuddered, but Mot was right. Despite Papa’s daily efforts to coax her to force food into her 73

mouth each and every mealtime (not to mention the thick, nasty formulas he bottle-fed her when eating failed), it didn’t take more than a passing half-glance in a mirror to see she had lost weight. No longer merely slender and trim, she had become almost gaunt.

Papa’s fingers—the fingers of his spanking hand—were now drumming against the biceps of his other arm. Swallowing hard, she took a cookie from the tray and held it in her hand, her stomach already threatening to rebel should even a crumb so much as cross her tongue.

Queen of the tea party, the child took command. “Eat,” she bossed, and took a big bite out of her cookie. Sassa needed no encouragement. She had finished off one cookie already and now took a healthy bite out of the other, her body rocking as she swung her feet under the table, humming with enjoyment. Binnie, Minmin and Mot were quieter, but they also ate. And everybody looked at her.

“Pani, eat.” Oh yes, Papa was definitely reaching the end of his patience. She could hear it in his voice, but at the same time, her mouth was also watering and not in a good way. On the verge of tears, she took a small bite, chewing a handful of times before swallowing. Somehow she managed the feat without gagging.

The child was a cruel mistress, marching them masochistically on to the next gastro-intestinal challenge. “Drink!”

All around the table, companion pets picked up their cups while Pani stared into hers. It was prolonging the inevitable. She knew what Papa wanted, but the flavor of the cookie (although not as bad as she supposed it could have been) was still in her mouth, all over her tongue and between her teeth. As a liquid, the tea would be infinitely worse.

She was only saved from drinking by the colliding of elbows between Mot and the quietly obedient brunette, Minmin.

Mot vaulted to his feet, sucking at air and grabbing his steaming hot dress away from his skin. The veins stood out against his neck as he grit his teeth to keep from swearing, screaming and probably dancing around, judging by the looks of him. When Pani touched the side of her cup and felt how hot the liquid was, she could guess how bad the burn must feel. His young mistress, on the other hand, was less sympathetic.

“Mot!” she half-scolded and half-whined, her tea party ruined.

It was Etle who came to the rescue, pulling up his dress to look at the damage before fetching a salve from the bathroom and sending both child and pet hobbling home again, hopefully for medical treatment.

Pani watched them go, feeling both sorry for Mot and grateful that she didn’t have to drink the tea. Sassa took advantage of the commotion to sneak a third cookie from the tray; if only Papa weren’t watching, Pani would have cheerfully passed her own onto Sassa’s plate. A ploy that was unlikely to work under Papa’s unwavering stare, but if she could manage it without his seeing it, then what slim chance she had of getting away with it was certainly worth the risks of getting caught.

Acquired taste or not, Sassa obviously enjoyed the flavor. She was halfway through her third cookie now and showing no signs of getting full. When she noticed Pani watching, she smiled and held out her partially gnawed cookie, offering Pani a friendly bite.

“Thank you,” Pani said dryly. “I’ll pass.”

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Sassa shrugged and popped the final piece into her mouth.

Unable to sit here one second more, Pani left the table. The chair was too big and heavy for her to move (her feet didn’t even touch the floor), so she made her graceless exit by sliding down under the table, disappearing briefly beneath the skirt of the yellow lace cloth before crawling back out into view on hands and knees on the floor. She stood up as soon as she no longer risked whacking her head on the underside of the table.

Finding her leash in the living room, she clipped one end to her collar and went to the door to wait for Papa, hoping he’d take the hint, make his goodbyes and finally just take her home. She supposed it still lurked in the realm of possibility that he intended to leave her here, and she folded her arms across her chest, surreptitiously hugging herself without trying to look as horribly insecure as she felt. She could just imagine spending the night, swaddled in her sleepsack right alongside Binnie, Minmin and Sassa. Or worse, having to spend the rest of her life sitting on a blanket, playing with dolls and pretending to be happy about it so as to avoid being hauled off into that room down the hall for a taste of discipline across Etle’s elegant knee.

But the longer she had to wait for Papa to comply, the more her insecurities began to simmer, boiling down into anger. As many things as she was forced to do for the sake of making him happy, was it so inconceivable that he should do this one small thing for her?

She glared back at him over her shoulder and this time, without coyness or reserve, let him see how unhappy she was right now. If only she had a watch, she’d have blatantly checked the time. Such a gesture would likely have been lost on Papa since he was without a timepiece on his wrist. She didn’t even know if they had them here. So she tapped her foot instead, and that must have been a universal gesture since it got an immediate reaction out of everyone who saw it. Papa was going to spank her now for sure, but she was almost beyond caring so long as he took he took her home first to do it.