• I Can't, I Have to Go Home and Feed My Captive

    By Bizzy Coy

    Published October 17, 2017 in The Belladonna
    Link to original
  • Kristy, thanks so much for the happy hour invite! I would love to go out with you girls after work, but unfortunately, I can’t. I have to go home and feed my captive.


    Yes, I’m lame to miss out on a night of laughs ’n’ liquor with my fave co-workers. But when I got my captive, I took on the responsibility of caring for him, and that’s a responsibility I’m bound to honor. My captive comes first, whether I’m refilling his water, replacing the lock on his cage or cleaning his poop-box.


    Sure, some people have an automatic feeding system for their captives — that’s just not my style. A technological gadget doesn’t give my captive the human touch he so desperately craves. And I wouldn’t dare leave out a bowl of kibble all day. Unless I limit his intake, my captive won’t know who’s boss.


    It’s me. I’m the boss.


    Ugh. I’m sorry to go on and on about my captive like this. I must sound like one of those crazy captive ladies. I’m not! I’m just a regular person who loves having a prisoner. And I only have one! I mean, I’ve thought about getting a second, but then I said to myself: “Girl. What are you doing? One captive is plenty!”


    I really do wish I could get together with the gang, though. We have so much workplace gossip to catch up on. Your promotion, the new crop of interns, and where Mr. Clawson went. I only wish my captive wasn’t waiting at home so we could dish about it.


    Kristy, please don’t guilt trip me. I realize you have two kids and you’re still making the effort to go out. But my captive is just as important to me as your children are to you. Maybe more. He’s a living, breathing creature, isn’t he? At least, for now.


    There’s nothing I’d like more than to kick back with a cocktail and relax. I’ve been hustling like a madwoman lately — both at the office and in the bunker. I thought things would get easier once Mr. Clawson disappeared, but it’s been twice as hard balancing work and home. Did you know you have to feed a captive every day, or he’ll scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear?


    Why do I even have a captive in the first place? Honestly, Kristy, you make it sound like something bad. It’s estimated that 35% of all households in the United States enjoy the positive benefits of having a captive.


    Captives alleviate stress, lower blood pressure, and go on and on about how they regret ever hiring you. Captives provide emotional comfort, especially when you make them apologize over and over for giving your promotion to someone else. No, Kristy, I’m not bitter! You earned that promotion, fair and square. At least, that’s what Mr. Clawson told me the last time I saw him…at work.


    I wonder sometimes if life would be easier if I didn’t have a captive at all. I could go out for post-work drinks literally anytime. I wouldn’t have to spend all this money on food and bedding and plastic zip ties. But I wouldn’t trade my captive for anything in the world, except maybe the pay raise that would have come with the job title you now have, and I don’t.


    Anyway, enough about me! I hope you and the gals have an absolute blast tonight. After you’re done gallivanting, why not stop by my place? You can meet my captive. He’ll even bathe himself with his tongue, if I force him. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going, and turn off your phone, okay?


    I can’t take care of them all, but if i can take care of one captive — maybe two — I’ll have made a difference.