Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Two years have passed and I still remember the face of the cocksucker that stole Rafaela away. I remember the handsome face and the short, strangely shorn black hair capping his head. I remember the bright red skin devoid of tattoos, but hands that were covered in black markings. I remember wide-spaced dark eyes, and the proud cheekbones. The angular jaw and pouty mouth. The way for a moment that he’d been beautiful to me, but all that beauty hid the heart of a true devil.
He’d taken Rafaela away, smirking the entire time as we’d wept and clung to each other. When I’d tried to hold onto her, he’d punched me in the face with those tattooed hands, knocking me to the floor. I’d sworn to get revenge. Instead, the mistress had made me finish cleaning.
Well…that bitch isn’t here for me to get my revenge, but the bastard that stole Rafaela is. He’s pretending to be sweet and innocent, but I know it’s a ruse. I haven’t forgotten the way that prick laughed at our tears.
This is my chance to find out where he took Rafaela. I won’t get another chance.
I was terrified the moment he showed up at my door, but when it was clear he didn’t recognize me, I relaxed a bit. All humans must look the same to an alien like him, and that’s a relief. I changed my manner from unfriendly to sweet, and when he agreed to come back later, I almost cheered.
I need to be ready for his return.
Should I drug him? Do I even have anything to drug him with? Will it take too long to work? Even if I spiked the butter he’d requested, would it work? Maybe aliens don’t get knocked out. Perhaps I should seduce him instead. The thought makes me want to gag, but it’ll get his guard down. Seduction, I decide. It’s the easiest way. Get him in my bed, cuff him, then torture him until he tells me everything he can about Rafaela and where she’s gone.
I press my hands to my mouth, revolted at the surge of excitement I feel over torturing someone. It’s just that…if I can find Rafaela…that changes everything. My sister is the last family I have. We’d been taken from Earth at the same time. Captivity made us grow closer than ever before. I could trust her with my life, and she knew I had her back. If the universe fell apart around us, we had each other.
But with Rafaela taken from me, there’s a cold, permanent fist around my heart at the thought of her being enslaved and suffering while I’m safe here on Risda. I’ve tried to get the local authorities to find her, but every refugee here has missing family. My voice gets drowned out. I throw myself into work here on my farm, because work is the only thing I can do. I work, and I save credits, and I dream of the day I can see Rafaela again.
That afternoon, I go about my regular chores. I check on the cattle’s statistics, then run the milk through the pasteurizer. I take one batch and pour my churns full, then hit the button on the wall. It took a bit of rigging, but I’ve managed to make sixteen butter churns hooked together while the machinery pistons them. After a few hours of this, I’ll have butter to tidy up, along with some buttermilk. Is it the most efficient process? No, it is not. Back home, I imagine that any butter farm would laugh at my small set-up. But it’s a way for me to make a living with my livestock and feel decent about it. My stock aren’t meat cattle, but an alternative kind specially bred to continually produce milk for years after a calf is born, so I’m not constantly having to get them pregnant to keep the milk reserves going. I tend to my cattle and take good care of them, and in turn, they take care of me. They let me hook up the milking machines without kicking me and nuzzle me when I pet their heads. It makes me feel less lonely to have them here on the farm with me. Silly but true.
As I move about the barn, getting the last batch of butter cleaned and put away, I examine my tools. I need something that will tie down the stranger. I need something that can act as a torture device. I pick up metal implements and put them down again, eventually deciding on a utility knife instead. I sharpen it and pull some heavy fiber rope from the barn and take it into the house. I don’t have cuffs, but maybe I can make tying him up into a sex game. I’m shaking with nervousness at the thought, but what are my options?