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“Cute name,” he says.
“Thanks,” I smile back. I wonder if he notices that it is more forced now.
I notice that there’s a real pain in my ass again, as if the realization that the safety I thought I felt here is just another brand of danger, has made all my senses go heightened again the way they do when I have to try to survive. Usually I at least have the luxury of my situation appearing threatening, but on Atlas’s ship everything is sickeningly perfect.
“This will be your room,” he says. “You’ll have the same one when you enter the simulation.”
This room was decorated by someone who collated a set of period-specific images of a room belonging to a female generally. There’re a lot of flowers in vases. Too many, really. Everything that can be pink is pink, and that which cannot be pink is either crystal glass or gold. I am sure this is someone’s dream room.
The bed is big enough to fit two people quite comfortably, but it would barely fit a scythkin and a human. That makes me wonder if he can, you know, do the deed in his human suit. It also makes me curious as to what a scythkin’s cock is like. Would I survive it? Or would it be brutally bladed the same way the rest of him is?
I glance over at him and see him looking down at me with one of those expressions that people give you when they are hoping you will like something they have done for you. He made this room for me, just as he made everything else in this ship for me. He must have wanted a brainwashed little human all of his own so badly.
The bed has a pink floral coverlet, of course, and a lot of strangely shaped small pillows that appear to have eyes. I pick one up, noticing that it also seems to have arms and legs of a kind. It’s almost human-shaped, except for the head, which is much more animal.
“What are these?”
“They are teddy bears,” he says. “They’re small stuffed effigies of one of Earth’s most deadly predators — though there has been some debate as to whether bears posed more of a threat to women than men did.”
“Are they supposed to be scary?”
“No. They are comfort items. Humans need comfort items.”
“Do they need this many?” There has to be a dozen of these at least in various shapes, sizes, and in various clothing. Some of them have little jackets. Others have little pants. It’s all out of the realm of my experience. I’ve never had a comfort item. I’ve had to get comfortable in other ways.
“I did not know which ones you would like,” he explains. “This way you have a choice of several and can choose your favorite. Which one would you like to take to bed?”
“I, uh…”
Raz, the spy, he wanted to fuck me. He did fuck me. I assumed all the aliens wanted some kind of carnal contact. If this scythkin does, he has a somewhat twisted approach to it. He is looking after me as if I am juvenile, but of course I am a fully grown adult.
“You know I am an adult woman,” I say.
“Of course you are. That is the entire point.”
“It is?”
“Yes.”
“You want a mate? Like, a sexual mate?”
He gives me a look that I find rather hard to read. Is it disapproving? Does he find me forward?
“I intend to mate with you, yes. But tonight, my sweet human, you will be looked after, as I suspect you were not looked after before. I want to give you all the experiences you need in order to feel safe. You are going to be taken care of, Sandy. You are going to know what it means to be properly attended to.”
He gestures to the bed where a pink frilly nightgown with lace around the neck, cuffs, and hem awaits me.
“Put it on,” he says.
Again, I am forced to be naked in front of him. Forced? I suppose he doesn’t have to ask twice after the display he gave me the first time. He still has that claw extended on his otherwise human hand. I suppose it’s not worth changing the entire suit over a single finger — and it does remind me of my place.
I remove my dinner dress and foot coverings and replace them both with the nightie. The hem drags the floor when I walk, in a very dramatic sort of way.
Atlas, the massive, terrifying alien, pulls back the blankets and moves most of the teddy bears to the other side of the bed, preparing me for bedtime.
He gestures for me to get in. I do as I am told, because there is absolutely no choice. As tender as he might appear to be, I know there is a darkness in him, a danger that cannot be denied. All males, and pretty much all aliens, are dangerous to me.
I slip into the bed and he tucks me in snugly.
