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…”

“Got it…” her sweet, bird-like voice was tight but not with pain, I thought. She was just concentrating so hard she was all wound up inside.

After a moment, one of the doors on the Matter Synthesizer lit up and I saw the particles swirling as it drew what it needed from the air to make the food little one had asked of it.

After a moment there was a soft ding and the food was ready.

“How is it? Did I do it?” Little one opened her eyes eagerly as I tugged open the door.

“Let’s see, shall we?” I said, pulling out the golden plate—the Matter Synthesizer always used pure, precious metals as food vessels to avoid any contamination—and examined its contents.

I frowned at what I saw. Several flat disks were stacked on top of each other and all of them seemed to be studded with small pockets of some kind of brown goo. On the very top disk there was a yellow square that seemed to be melting all over the place.

The odd concoction certainly did not look appetizing—though it smelled surprisingly good. But when I showed it to little one, she clapped her hands together and jumped up and down.

“Yes! I did it!” she exclaimed. “Chocolate chip pancakes, just like mom used to make!”

“So…that’s how they’re supposed to look?” I asked doubtfully. “With tiny pockets of brown goo oozing out of them?”

“Those are the chocolate chips, silly,” little one informed me. Oh, I know…” She looked up at me with bright eyes. “Let’s try for some bacon and hash browns to go with them! Oh—and some scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice!”

“One thing at a time, little one—you don’t want to wear out your brain trying to make a whole feast,” I said sternly, removing the controller from her head.

“Oh, all right.” She sighed and then gave me that sweet smile that melted me almost as much as the shock-a-lot ships. “I’m just happy to have the pancakes—to have anything besides nutritional gel,” she told me. “Come on, let’s sit down and enjoy these.”

I looked at her in surprise.

“You want me to eat some too?”

“Absolutely—I made enough for both of us,” little one said firmly. “Come on—you’re going to love these.”

She went over to my circular metal table and would have got onto her knees on the bench—which is how she has to sit because of her tiny stature—when I remembered something I had made her.

“Little one, wait,” I called, going to get the thick bolster I had put in the corner. It looked exactly like the one she’d sat on at the short, rather disastrous feast we’d had with Baron Vik’tor. When little one sat on it, it raised her to the right height at the table, so she didn’t have to sit on her knees.

“Oh, this is perfect! Thank you, Sir.” She smiled up at me gratefully as she settled on the bolster.

“You’re very welcome,” I said gravely. “I am only ashamed that it took the generosity of another to make me see what you needed. I should have made my ship more accessible to you weeks ago, when I first got you.”

“Well, you’re doing it now,” little one pointed out. “And besides, I’m almost used to everything being too big after all these weeks. Come on…” She motioned for me to sit down. “Let’s eat these while they’re still hot.”

I sat across from her and watched as she picked up one of the flat disks—the one with the melted yellow square on it—and took a bite.

“Well?” I asked anxiously. “How is it?”

Little one didn’t answer at once, but she didn’t need to—her expression told me everything I needed to know. Her eyes rolled up in her head and an expression of pure ecstasy crossed her face.

“Oh my God…so good,” she moaned, when she swallowed the first bite.

I couldn’t help smiling at her reaction—the pure joy on her face was beautiful to see.

“So I take it the Matter Synthesizer finally got it right?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

Little one nodded eagerly.

“Just like my mom used to make. Try it, Sir,” she added, looking up at me. “You’ll never want those nasty bland nutritional gel cubes again!”

Dubiously, I picked up one of the flat disks with the warm, gooey specks in it and brought it to my nose. It smelled sweet and almost nutty—much different from the nutritional gel, which had no smell at all.

“Am I supposed to just eat it with my hands like this?” I asked, frowning.

Little one shook her head.

“No, you’re supposed to have a fork to cut them with. But this works just fine.” She had rolled up the rest of her own disk into a cylinder and she took another big bite as some of the yellow stuff went dripping out the end.

I was glad there was no yellow goo on mine—it must be a topping that was sacred only to the first disk on the pile, I speculated. But I was well content to have the second disk without it. I rolled mine up as well, copying little one’s actions, and took a tentative bite.

The pancake had a soft, pillowy texture that shredded easily between my teeth and seemed almost to melt on my tongue. The shock-a-lot ships were more intensely sweet with an appealing hint of bitterness that I found I liked quite a lot.

“Well?” Little one looked at me anxiously as I swallowed.

“These are quite good,” I admitted, rather grudgingly. “Not nearly as nutritious as the nutritional gel cubes, but very tasty.”

“They’re perfect,” little one said dreamily, popping the last bite of the dripping cylinder into her mouth and licking her lush lips with her pink tongue.

“And this is the kind of food that will help you regain your curves?” I asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice and not quite managing. I was worried about my previously plump little pet—I didn’t like the way she had been melting away before my eyes.

“Absolutely.” Little one nodded firmly and picked up another disk from the stack to roll into a cylinder. “This kind of food will definitely bring back my curves.” She sighed. “Although I’ve really kind of enjoyed being thin for the first time in my life. I just wish everyone back home could see how good I look.”

“I’m starting to be able to see your skeleton beneath your skin,” I said, frowning. “If the ones you left back on your home planet could see you, they would probably think I’ve been starving you!”

She looked at me with wide eyes.

“No, they wouldn’t. They’d say, ‘Elli—you finally lost weight!’”

“You really can’t tell me your people expect females to be nothing but skin and bones?” I said, raising my eyebrows in disbelief.

Little one shook her head.

“Oh, you don’t understand.” She sighed. “But I know you like me curvy, so I’m willing to make the sacrifice and gain some weight.” She cocked her head at me hopefully. “As long as I can keep using the Matter Synthesizer?”

“You may, as long as you promise only to use it when I’m here to supervise and make certain you’re in no danger,” I said firmly. “I won’t compromise on that, little one,” I added, when she started to protest. “I have no idea how a being from such a primitive world has a brain complex enough to interface with the Matter Synthesizer, but I’m through taking any kind of risks with you. Do you understand?”

My voice had dropped to a growl and little one got a chastened look on her pretty face.

“Yes, Master,” she murmured and took another nibble of her pancake. “And thank you for letting me try in the first place.”

I shook my head.

“I really don’t know why I did. You’re much too persuasive for your own good, little one.”

She gave me a saucy little smile.

“Does that mean you think I’m a ‘naughty’ pet who needs more training?”

I felt my cock stir in my sleep trousers, getting hard at the way she was looking at me. But I would not be deterred from what needed to happen.

“Maybe later,” I said shortly. “For now, finish your food and then we’ll talk about your punishment.”

“My…er…punishment? I mean, does it have to be today?” Little one had gone pale.

“Wouldn’t you rather get it over with?” I asked reasonably. “So we can go back to our usual training routine?”

“I guess so,” she whispered, but I noticed she hadn’t eaten any more of the pancake cylinder in her hand.

I felt a surge of sympathy for her—I well remembered what it was like to be punished by my own father when I was a boy. But she could not be allowed to risk herself again, the way she had on O’nagga Nine.

“All right,” little one said, her voice sounding firmer and more certain.

I saw that her lovely face had hardened into a mask of determination. “How about we get it over now?” she asked, lifting her chin defiantly.

I frowned.

“Don’t you want to finish your food?”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She put down the half-eaten cylinder, which promptly unrolled on the golden plate. “I’d rather get it over with—like you said.”

“Well…” I hesitated but I knew as well as she did that this had to happen before we could get back to any semblance of normality. “All right,” I said at last. “I’m going into the living area. Come join me when you’re ready.”

Then I rose and left her sitting there, probably wondering what was going to become of her.