My Wild Pet (Whispers from the Imperial Cage #2)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Aefre

The Abyssal Nexus looms in front of me. It’s a massive Octopod station shaped like a living creature with bioluminescent tendrils snaking out into deep space. It only reminds me of how much I hate dealing with Octopods.

“Prepare for docking,” the captain announces. A faint chime echoes through the Luminous Arc , followed by the computer’s acknowledgment when the docking is complete.

I gaze at the Nexus, its glowing mass reflecting off my ship’s windows. “The auction awaits,” I mutter.

I make my way to the exit, where my guards stand waiting. I don’t expect trouble here, but this is Octopod territory after all. I motion for them to follow.

We walk along the station’s dimly lit corridors with their glowing orange patterns. Breathing in the thick air as our feet move through the faint mist drifts along the floor, which allows the Octopods to glide more easily and the rest of us to slip.

The Octopod Docking Overseer approaches. “Imperial Trainer Aefre. Your arrival has been logged. The auction preparations are underway. Please proceed to the Auction Hall.”

“Ensure my transport is secured,” I reply curtly, but he’s already moved on, issuing orders to harsh handlers who are dragging restrained humans off transport ships further down the hall.

One of my guards grimaces as we watch a group of human men roughly yanked into formation by their tentacled captors. “Those male pets, they’re so shattered,” he observes.

I say nothing, my eyes fixed on the scene. The Octopods’ treatment of humans is crude. Their methods dull the spirit, stripping away everything that makes humans valuable as pets.

We continue through the station, the long, curving corridors shimmering with orange light. The walls pulse faintly with bioluminescent designs, and the mist thickens underfoot. Trainers pass by, some nodding in recognition, others avoiding my gaze.

Just as we near the Auction Hall, the sound of humans crying reaches us. I raise a hand, signaling my guards to stop. Seconds later, a group of humans are led across the corridor, their faces pale with fear and their steps unsteady on the slick floor.

I watch them, assessing their condition. “Those humans are damaged,” I say under my breath. “They’ll fetch a price, but they’re useless. The Octopods have made them compliant, but in the process, reduced them to just living bags of water.”

“Do you still want to go in?” one of my guards asks.

I hesitate for the briefest moment, the weight of doubt creeping in. If this is the quality on offer, am I wasting my time? But I’ve come too far to turn back now. “We’re already here. We might as well go in.”

At the entrance to the Auction Hall, two Octopod guards stop us. “No personal security allowed. Only buyers, Master Trainer,” one of them clicks.

I glance at my guards. “It should be safe enough. It makes no sense to murder your buyers. Wait out here,” I instruct them and then step through the doors alone.

The Auction Hall is massive, a circular auditorium with glowing orange accents and tiered seating. A notification pings on my IC, directing me to a seat near the front. Good. They’ve learned to reserve those for serious buyers.

I glance up at the floating platforms where the humans will soon be displayed. I hope they’ll have better humans on offer than what I saw in the corridors.

I hear my name whispered behind me. “That’s Aefre. He turns human pets into Grand Champions.”

I turn casually, meeting the gaze of a lesser-known trainer. He nods in recognition, and I return the gesture.

Before the auction begins, a loud, clicking announcement echoes through the hall. Even my superior Imperial translator struggles to smooth out the harsh edges of the Octopod language.

A holographic screen flickers to life above the central platform. The voice continues:

“In accordance with Galactic Trade Law, Section Twenty, Subsection One, all potential buyers must be informed of the first subject’s history and character prior to sale.”

I lean back in my seat, watching the glowing screen. It’s not uncommon for the Octopods to show compliance footage before an auction. Even though the human pet trade is technically illegal now, some are still running their businesses as if the law regarding humans was never passed.

The screen pulses, and I hope the auction will begin soon. I need a human who can replace Fifi. Ideally, a medium-sized female with blonde hair, brown eyes, and the physical attributes that human females are prized for, decently sized breasts, enough to bounce when she walks and ample fur between her legs and under her arms.

But more than that, I need someone who can win.

"Subject Number 427-B—designation: human female—has exhibited extraordinary aggression in captivity. The following footage demonstrates her actions during an incident within the holding chambers."

The video begins and it’s raw footage from one of the human holding cells. There are three males and a female in a cage together. That’s stupid , I think to myself. But then again, Octopods can’t always tell the difference between males and females. And to be fair, two of the males in the cell are fat enough to have average size female breasts. But you’d think the Octopods would have noticed their penises between their legs.

I watch with everyone else. Not surprisingly the largest male is bullying the female. We can’t hear what’s being said, but it doesn’t matter, humans don’t really have complex languages or thoughts. Then the big male tries to put his penis in the female’s mouth.

That hole has teeth , I think.

Shockingly, the female bites down on his tender appendage and doesn’t let go, all the while taking quite a beating from the other men. Red blood squirts all over her face and by the time the Octopod guards pull her away from the man, she’d torn off most of the male’s penis.

The announcer clicks, "Behold, her capabilities. The subject displays intelligence, cunning, and physical aptitude exceeding initial assessments. However, she also exhibits heightened defiance and volatility—traits that must be managed with appropriate measures."

The camera angle shifts to a close-up of the female in the aftermath with the bitten off penis still between her bloody lips. The screen freezes on this image as the auctioneer continues.

"As per galactic custom, these traits are presented for transparency. Buyers should proceed with the understanding that the subject requires careful handling, but such qualities may also present unique opportunities for those seeking pets of uncommon spirit and resilience."

The crowd murmurs. I hear comments of both approval and apprehension. A few trainers around me lean forward in their seats, clearly intrigued by the footage. I’ve seen humans at their worst, and I’ve seen this before, aggression born of survival. A primal instinct, and one that’s almost impossible to wield in a human. Only an expert trainer can do it.

The video continues then and it’s of the Octopod medics trying to reattach the male’s penis. Octopods have very little medical expertise as they prefer to just let each other die rather than waste time and energy trying to extend one another’s life.

I cross my legs as I watch the Octopods try to reattach the human male’s penis while he is conscious and by the way he’s screaming; he can feel everything. Of course, this fails and in the end, the Octopods cauterize the wound and now he’s a eunuch.

The next scene shows the male back in his cell, his wounds where his penis was, healing. The back of him shows the familiar red light of an anus plug for training. No doubt they’re going to sell him to be a release pet for the Imperial infantry, men too poor to have access to females.

The video skips back to the female in a cell alone, pacing back and forth talking to herself. Maybe she was mad to begin with?

The video fades to black, and the auction begins. The first human up for bidding is Wild One.

I sit up straighter, my interest piqued. Who is going to be the sucker going home with this gem?

The auctioneer reminds us that she is considered highly dangerous and, as such, will be sold at a discount. Their reasoning is almost laughable—"the auction house lacks the proper facilities to manage a human like her.”

No kidding, I think, suppressing a smirk.