You awake in the night with a snap and find yourself immediately in a free fall. Little had either you or Debbie realized, but the decorative chain on which your cage was hung was not sturdy enough to handle adding Debbie's thick cut bedrobe to hang on. You've been constantly aware while being imprisoned here just how high up you were, as the cage walls didn't exactly hide any of the view, and your life flashes before your eyes for a terrible moment before you and the cage crash against the floor with a bang, slamming you into the ground and knocking you completely senseless.
However, whether because the robe crumpled up under the cage and cushioned your landing, or because you're more resilient to falls than you'd instinctively thought at this size, the blow only knocks the wind out of your body and dazes you enough to lie and whimper for a few moments.
As you finally manage to gasp in new breath, you groan and pick yourself up painfully to fumble in the dark. "Debbie?" You call out, feeling along the bars. If you strain your ears, you think you can hear steady rhythmic breathing across the room, but nothing else seems to make it in or out of the terry cloth piled all over and around your enclosure.
Suddenly, you feel an empty space in the bars as you keep feeling along them. Investigating further, you realize the cafe door has popped open from the fall! For a moment, old habits kick in and you start thinking you have an opportunity to escape this impossible choice you have in store for you tomorrow, and this increasingly degrading new station in life your horny ex wants you to totally embrace along with it. But then, you dejectedly remind yourself how that turned out last time.
Both Stacey and her mom will just make things worse for you or even kill you if they find you outside Debbie's room alone. You think you remember there being a cat door you could maybe escape by downstairs, but what would you do outside alone at this size? You haven't seen a cat here recently, but that doesn't mean they don't have one. And cat or no cat, no doubt everything else out there from birds to spiders to mosquitoes would most likely see you as another tasty snack.
You wonder if anyone would mourn you when you're gone, and sadly realize that probably the closest thing would be your self-proclaimed owner getting upset at finding out that you'd run off again.
...again. Right. Instead of trying to escape Debbie's captivity again on what's now almost surely a suicide mission, banking on somehow crossing the yard and having some helpful neighbor find you before any insects do - a thought that sounds less and less likely as you progress through it - why not just impress Debbie with your loyalty when she finds you still obediently waiting here in the morning? As heavily as she's obviously slept, surely she'll have to appreciate your dedication and reward you for not taking the opportunity. If there's a chance you can convince her to be less... demanding... with you, then that's got to be it, right?
You feel increasingly encouraged by your self-rationalization for remaining willingly in her possession. The lingering pain in your balls, and even the new throbbing pain all along your probably-bruised left side, seem almost to fade away as you start imagining what kind of tasty morsels a happy Debbie will feed you while you hang out comfortably in her shirt pocket tomorrow, which makes your aching stomach rumble.
Yeah, whether it's supernatural interference or something else, trying to get away from Debbie hasn't been working out at all. Embracing it and winning brownie points with her instead, though... maybe you should just pin your hopes on that. It's not like you realistically have a better plan.
...right?