Pets 2: Pani's Story (23 page)

And the invasion left her feeling so helpless and…defiled, somehow, in ways Papa had never done.

She wanted to go home. For the first time, that sentiment did not conjure up images of her New York apartment. Instead, the home she yearned for was an over-large two-bedroom house situated at the mouth of a quiet cul-de-sac.

While the man wiped excess gel from her bottom, transferring some to the utterly dry folds of her unaroused sex, the woman strolled in her cell, the heels of her shoes crunching through the straw. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Pani felt her before she saw her—that familiar scrape of long fingernails raking over the top of her head and through her bangs. She was practically being scratched behind the ears, and that more than anything else brought Pani’s head up. She glared at the woman, scared of her, but almost hating her too and with an intensity that was in itself frightening.

If the woman noticed the heat of her stare, it didn’t bother her. She conversed with her companion, completely ignoring Pani while she reached over to open the door between the breeder male’s cage and Pani’s. With the electric prod ready to use, she beckoned the male into Pani’s cage. The breeder’s eyes flashed hotter than the end of the prod she wielded between them, but after a long, seething silence, he obeyed.

The breeder male never made it more than one step through the open cage door.

There was a sharp snap, loud enough to make everybody jump, and Pani felt the hot spray of blood as the breeder’s head rocked back on his shoulders. Before her shocked eyes, he fell slowly over backwards, almost as if he were laying himself down in the straw except that, but for a slight twitching in his limbs, he never moved again.

The woman shouted, but it was Papa’s voice, booming angrily through the barn, that 102

drowned her out into silence. Papa!

Wrestling against her bonds, Pani squealed, struggling frantically to get her head up where she could see something beyond her own spread legs behind her.

Papa!

She could hear movement now, spreading through the barn, coming down the aisle of cages.

More than just Papa, but many booted feet. The woman frowned, feigning anger, but her companion seemed to recognize defeat when it waved a gun in his face. He held his hands up, giving in without argument.

And then he was there—right there behind her, Papa in the dark and angry flesh—pushing past one of the many well-armed strangers to get to Pani. She could have cried with relief.

The gag garbled her frantic calls to him, but he seemed to understand anyway. His hand settled on her hip, his fingertips searching for someplace without a welt to touch her. The fruitless effort made him even angrier. Pani wished she knew his language better; she heard ‘I don’t’, ‘what you’, and ‘have’, but she’d have loved to know exactly what he said to that tall cruel woman as he bent to pull the gag from around Pani’s head.

“Papa!” she crowed. “Take home! Take home! Take Pani home!” Trying to do that very thing, Papa unhooked the hip strap, but he growled what sounded like curses when he came to the chains that bound her wrists and ankles. She helped, tugging and pulling and wiggling for all that she was worth, all the while begging, “Take home? Pani home now?”

Someone finally passed Papa a key. He managed to free her legs first and had just worked his way around the T-post to her wrists when another loud pop dropped the woman to the floor right there. She landed on her back practically right under Pani’s nose, startling her into silence as she found herself staring into the woman’s open and slowly unfocusing eyes.

With a clank, the manacles came off her wrists and Pani scrambled backwards to get off the T-post. She jumped on Papa, trusting him to catch her in his strong arms while she wrapped herself tight around him. Burying her face in his neck, softly petting and stroking the side of his cheek as she breathed in the reassuring scent of him, she whispered, “Take Pani home.” Hugging her fiercely close, Papa needed very little encouragement for that.

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“Ring…a-around the…rosie…” in halting whispers, the pale brunette lay on her back in Pani’s crib, unresisting while Papa diapered her and fastened her into Pani’s old sleepsack.

Staring unblinking at the ceiling, she sang to herself. “Puh…pocket…f-full…” Pani stood at the foot of her crib, gripping the bars with both hands as she stared at the near-catatonic intruder that was lying in her bed. That was her sleepsack that Papa was buckling her into. Her old sleepsack, her old crib, one of her old toys—a stuffed green and yellow squid-like looking animal that Pani had personally never played with—tucked up to the pale woman’s face, so close that the two were sharing the same pillow. Ungracious though it was, and though Pani could barely understand the raw, angry intensity behind it, it was all she could do not to feel completely, utterly…resentful…for having to share.

Especially with a woman who, quite frankly, had gone so far around the bend towards Looneyville that she was barely conscious.

“Puh…posies,” stammered the brunette, her voice so high and soft and child-like that it made Pani shudder just to listen to it. The woman blinked, the only movement she offered beyond the trembling of her lips as she sang, “Ashes…”

Done with the fastenings of the sack, Papa drew back his hands. He looked at her, his jaw ticcing once, then twice, and he didn’t smile.

“Ah…ashes…”

Shaking his head, Papa gave the woman an almost apologetic pat on the head and then reached for Pani’s hand. “Come on.”

Pani followed him down the hall to his bedroom, glancing back over her shoulder at the open nursery-room door that Papa had left gaping behind them.

“W-we all…f-fall…down…” Like a broken record, the whispery voice became stuck. It stammeringly repeated that final phrase twice more before Papa propelled Pani into his bedroom ahead of him.

“Do you have to go potty?” he asked, not quite drowning the crazy woman out as he pushed his own bedroom door half-closed. So he’d be able to hear it when the brunette got up in the wee, small hours of the night and in her own soft, sing-song, quietly crazy way tried for a third time in as many days to hang herself in the closet.

Personally, Pani was having a hard time not hoping that she somehow managed to succeed tonight.

“Pani. Do you have to potty?”

Grossly ashamed of herself, Pani shook her head.

“…all…fall…d-down…”

Picking her up, Papa carried her the short distance to the bed, sitting her on the foot of the mattress while he knelt to remove her shoes and white knee-high stockings. “Arms up.” She stretched her hands above her head, raising her chin and closing her eyes while he pulled her dress up and off. Leaving her to sitting there in only a diaper, Papa gathered her discarded clothes for the hamper and began to undress himself.

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“…all…f-fall…puh…posies…”

Eyeing the tall back of Papa as he quietly got ready for bed, Pani slid off the edge of the bed and padded bare-footed to the door.

“No, Pani,” he said, sounding tired, but she pushed the door softly shut anyway. Clothed only in a pair of black trousers, he sighed and dropped his shirt into the hamper before returning to her. He cupped her chin with one hand, his other settling upon the latch. “Open,” he said, low and scolding as he cracked the door once more.

“…ahhsssh-esszz…”

His hand was still cupping her chin and the other on the latch when she reached out with two fingers and, applying only just enough pressure, she pushed the door until it clicked shut. “No open.”

“Does Pani want a spanking?” he asked, a corner of his stern mouth quirking upwards in a look that suggested he might very well enjoy giving her one anyway.

“Ha,” she replied, her tone every bit as painstakingly conversational. He hadn’t spanked her in three days. Something between them had changed since he’d rescued her from that awful breeding facility. Something more than just his unexplainable need to bring Crazy home with them. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but which had left the air between them heavy. Like they were both waiting in perpetual dread for that intangible ‘other shoe’ to drop.

Her response arched his eyebrows, but her deliberate disobedience slowly flattened them again. Along with his mouth, which curved down in a considering frown. He gestured with his head towards the bed. “Go.”

She went because she really didn’t want a sore bottom, but as she crawled back up to sit at the foot of the bed, she noticed that he left the door shut.

“Bad Pani,” she said.

“My Pani,” he corrected, stripping away his pants and dropping them at the foot of the bed.

He reached for her as he climbed beneath the blankets, hooking his arm around her waist and dragging her half-laughing down the length of the mattress until she lay flush against him, her back to his chest and her head on the pillow just beneath his chin.

His hand found her breast, cupping it comfortably as he lay with her. Against the back of her thigh, she thought she felt that length of limp flesh stirring as his thumb skimmed lightly back and forth across the tip of her nipple, bringing it quickly to a stiffened peak. He plucked, teased and rolled it between his fingers, coaxing Pani to arch, offering herself to be touched any way that he desired.

Drawing a deep breath, he lowered his head to nuzzle between the coils of her braids and kiss her nape. He might not have spanked her in three days, but his appetite in other regards had intensified.

Papa couldn’t keep his hands off her. Over the last three days, he had made love to her with near relentless vigor. It had started in the shower, just minutes after arriving home, when he’d pulled that plug from her bottom and promptly taken its place, as if he could wash away that whole bad experience as easily as he washed lingering bits of straw down the drain, as if his touch was the only touch he wanted her to remember. He didn’t just take her; he possessed her, loved her, conquered and owned her. In the shower, in the bedroom, on the dining table, on the 105

kitchen floor, bent over the arm of the sofa but never again over the wooden horse. Sometimes slow and so achingly gentle, but at other times hard and breathtakingly fast. Often denying her the right to cum until the very explosive end, or else wringing climax after climax from her willing body until he’d brought her right to pleasure’s razor-sharp edge.

Tonight was a slow night. Slow and languid as he sought to both touch and taste every inch of her. Wonderful from the very first stroke as he pressed himself so deep inside her, and yet somehow sad all at the same time.

She wished she knew why.

* * * * *

It was still dark when Papa stroked her shoulder, gently caressing her awake. The hall light was on and the door was open. Her eyes were burning; it felt as if she’d only been asleep for an hour at most, but she still rolled onto her back, sleepily catching his hand in both of hers and shifting it back to her breast. Though she made herself available to him, she would cheerfully have drifted right back to sleep right then had he not shaken her gently a second time.

“Sit up.”

Pani groaned, covering her face with her hands, but Papa made himself difficult to ignore when he took her by the wrists and pulled her upright. “Bad Papa,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes, but stayed as he left her, sitting amid a tangle of blankets, shoulders hunched as she fought through one yawn after another.

“Yes,” he agreed simply, pressing Pani’s baby bottle into her hand. “Drink.” Whatever was inside was warm and thick and tasted more like medicine than the formula she was used to, but it wasn’t nasty enough to risky another dose of the hairbrush, so Pani tipped back her head and let the nipple fill her mouth. As she sucked, she drifted over backwards until she flopped down amongst the pillows again.

“Sit.” Papa pulled her upright again. Leaving her to both drink and doze, he dressed her, now and then nudging her awake long enough to remind her, “All of it. Drink.” She whined, kicking the mattress with one sleepy foot, but stopped when he paused with her stockings long enough to give her a Look. “Bad Papa,” she muttered again and sulkily sucked down every last mediciny drop. By the time he had her fully dressed, she had the bottle empty.

“All done?” he asked.

Like a shot glass with a nipple on top, she turned the bottle upside down and smartly thunked it down on the bedside table.

He flicked the tip of her nose in reprimand and ignored Pani’s squall of protest. She almost flicked his nose back, but then thought better of it and let herself be picked up instead.

“Be good,” he said as he carried her from the room.

“Be good, you,” Pani sulked, rubbing her burning eyes. Who’d gotten whom up in the middle of the night here anyway?

Already dressed and staring into space, Crazy was standing in the hall waiting for them. She looked more awake than Pani felt, but probably because she hadn’t been to sleep yet. At least she wasn’t singing anymore.

Without putting Pani down, Papa bent to catch Crazy’s hand and led her slowly down the 106

stairs. He picked up his keys and wallet at the computer desk, a diaper bag from one end of the couch and then stepped outside.

A long black vehicle was idling in the driveway next to Papa’s car. One of two men in the front seat quickly jumped out, and by the time Papa had reached them, he had the back door standing open.

It was like riding in a limo. The two back seats faced one another, with Crazy sitting by herself on one side, studiously watching as the fingers of one hand wiggled in the air in front of her face, and Papa with Pani on his lap on the other. Aside from a completely foreign alien-aspect to the outer design, the only major difference as far as Pani could tell between this and a real limousine, lay in this one’s ability to accelerate from zero to three hundred in 3.6 seconds.

For some reason, the ride didn’t bother Pani as much as it usually did. Her stomach didn’t lurch too badly when the wheels rolled up into the undercarriage of the car and they shot up that rapid incline into the atmosphere, following a series of fleeing taillights through the night sky.