Bebe Read Free Page A

unwanted. At least until the day Sir and Ma’am walked in. They had like Bebe so much, they not only brought her home with them, but they gave her a name. Her very own name; she’d never had one of those before, either.
    How long ago had that been? Three winters now? Maybe four. Bebe wasn’t sure.
    Regardless, even in the Awful Place, pets were never left alone. There was always someone there, dark-haired giants who walked up and down between the cells, bringing food and water, taking each inhabitant outside to run the grounds while the cages were cleaned, and spraying them down with the hose before locking them up again. If forced to admit it, during daylight hours the Awful Place hadn’t really been that bad. But at night...oh now, nights there were often a wholly different matter.
    Night was when the guards took command, walking the halls, keeping the pets quiet and the escape-prone males securely locked out of the females’ pens. Sometimes, in the very wee small hours, and if a guard was so inclined, a female—or even a male—could and often was taken from the relative safety of their cage and led off into the dark. Bebe could still hear the cries, the pleading, the wet, rhythmic sucking/slapping noises. Sometimes she still had nightmares where she again heard that unforgettable sound of the electronic key unlocking her cage door.
    She quickly turned her face back the other way. She didn’t want to think about that, either.
    Yes, the Awful Place had been truly horrible, but she liked it here. She liked Sir and Ma’am, despite occasionally having to bend over the ottoman while lubricant was rubbed between her legs. She liked them even if they got up and left her in the middle of the night. Even if they smacked her in the head with their luggage as they left. They could smack her in the head all day long, and it would still be better than what she’d endured the night the guards had dragged her from her cell.
    Abandoning the window, hoping at any moment to see the splash of lights washing across the dining room wall as the transporter drifted back up the driveway, Bebe padded softly back out to the living room again. She paused once, glancing down the hall at the open bedroom door. The light on the nightstand was still on. If she were allowed to go into their bedroom, she might have been tempted to wander down the hall and turn it off. Instead, surrounded by all this nerve-wracking silence and much too unsettled to sleep, she returned to stand before the front door.
    Blinking up at it with solemn blue eyes, she gathered her blanket tight around her and lowered herself to sit cross-legged on the floor. With no other options, Bebe did the only thing she could: she waited.
    And waited.
    And waited until her legs and her back began to ache from the strain of just sitting there. Bebe left the door then, but only long enough to drag her cushion from the now cold and dark fireplace to her self-appointed sentry spot. Then she sat down on it, folding herself in as much of her blanket as she could to continue waiting.
    Until the darkness outside began to fade before the rising of the sun and the sky lit in myriad hues of pink and orange. A soft whir and click from the corner signaled the moment when the sweeper activated itself and began to make its rounds through the house. She glanced down at the round silver disc when it bumped into the side of her misplaced cushion. A series of lights flashed across the flat surface before it accepted her disruption of its standard work-path and changed trajectories.
    Rising stiffly, Bebe hobbled into the kitchen to check the clock and start the coffee. She wasn’t sure if Sir intended to come home for a cup or two before work. For all she knew, he might already be at work. Maybe he’d just left really, really early. But, he’d never taken Ma’am with him before. And if he did come home for coffee, would it be a spanking offense to not have it ready for him? Bebe tapped her fingers