Willing Slave, Unwilling Master Ch. 05

He leans back into the sofa, watching me with an eyebrow raised. I'm momentarily confused, then it hits me. He wants me to ask why.

"It's disobedient to ask questions, Master," I say softly, not quite able to meet his gaze in case I have misread the situation.

"Yes Mistress," he replies, "Should I ask too many you have my permission to hit me."

The giggle escapes me before I can stop it, earning me a warm smile from my Master. He really doesn't mind when I laugh at him? Well, not at him, but at his words? My owner really is wonderfully strange. And though I'm not convinced that he's being entirely honest when he says things will be fine, I push aside the uncomfortable feeling of dread and focus instead on his jubilant expression. After all, such things are not for a slave to think about.

"May I ask a question, Master?" I ask, leaning my head against the side of the sofa so our faces are aligned.

"Rose, you have my permission from now until the end of time itself to ask as many questions as you can think of," he says, still smiling.

I'm not sure if he's really happy, or simply trying to stop me from worrying. Perhaps he's both. I ask him about why the art tablet might not work.

"Well I'm glad you asked," he smirks. "Ident chips are required to interface with almost all modern technology, bar a few notable exceptions - my bedside controls, for example. That's why I said the chips are forced on people; you're well within your rights to refuse one. But good luck catching a grav-train or even accessing your own money; calling your parents, or operating the gesture controls on a TV also need a chip. So, without one, you are pretty stuck."

I nod, not sure if Master's angry tone is because of me or his dislike for the system.

"I mean, to be fair, the chips do useful stuff as well. They can alert medical services if you get into trouble, and in women, for example, they act as a contr-" Master bolts upright, staring at me with a combination of alarm and terror.

"Master?" I ask softly.

"Contraceptive," he squeaks. "The chips are also contraceptives. Oh my bloody stars."

Suddenly he's on his feet, "I need to speak to my sister. Wait here, okay?"

"Yes Master!" I say to his rapidly retreating back, and just like that I'm all alone.

Placing my hand on my stomach I let my owner's words sink in before grabbing a pillow and hugging it tight to my chest. It seems impossible. But if Master's right then that must mean... I'm pregnant?