Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Aefre
The auctioneer gestures dramatically to the human female on the platform. She stands rigid under the scrutinizing gazes of the crowd, her eyes darting around like a cornered animal. Physically, she’s striking, undeniably so, despite her body still bearing the marks of a fight some days ago. Her hair is a captivating blend of blonde streaked with violet and pink at the ends—a feature that would make her a prize under normal circumstances. But these aren’t ordinary circumstances.
A faint orange light flickers above the human female’s head, cycling through rows of data that scroll too quickly for any untrained eye. Of course, I’ve studied these readouts for years. They’re standard at auctions across the galaxy, even if the specifics vary by species.
Wild One’s physical stats appear first. A streamlined display outlines her musculature, bone density, and body composition. A pulsing figure indicates her hormonal balance, highlighting elevated cortisol, which the display interprets as 68% “distress readiness.”
A secondary panel shows her reproductive viability. Meddling with fertility is frowned upon in the Empire, but here, in the human pet circuit, that data is simply another bargaining chip.
My eyes narrow when I see an above-average reading on neural resilience—a measure of how quickly her brain recovers from shock. That stands out. Humans are notoriously variable in this regard, and I’ve learned that a high “NR” index can signal a mind capable of rebounding from trauma. Exactly what I want, someone who can endure A to Z of Kaelin’s more harrowing training methods without shattering.
There’s a chemical readout on her adrenal function, tinted in a faint red if it’s too high or too low. Hers is spiking—not surprising for a newly acquired human being sold at an alien auction. Fear is an excellent motivator, as long as it doesn’t become crippling.
The scattered indicators of trauma mean she’s experienced pain before, but she’s still standing. The psychological readout suggests a capacity for adaptability under stress. Combined with her fairly high resilience rating, she just might survive the rigors of the Grand Championships—but she bit off another man’s penis. I’ve seen a lot of aggression from humans in my time, but I’ve never seen that particular action. Humans love sex. So for humans to attack each other in that way, is not a good sign at all.
"Let us begin the bidding for this remarkable specimen,” the auctioneer announces with a flourish. “Subject 427-B—wild, untamed, and ready to be molded by the hands of a capable trainer. Do I hear an opening bid?"
Wild One’s green eyes lock onto mine, unflinching. I shift in my seat. I don’t want her . She’ll be notorious—the one who bit a man’s penis off. Human teeth aren’t even designed for that kind of damage. Only an Octopod buyer might consider her. But even they remain silent.
No bids.
Wild One hasn’t stopped staring at me. I’m the only Imperial here—the only one with a face and shape like hers. I imagine she’s clinging to instinct, recognizing me as her best shot at survival.
As I watch her, I note that she’s not foaming at the mouth or thrashing around like a rabid beast. She’s composed, vulnerable even.
Minutes pass, and still, no bids.
She seems to sense her precarious position. If she can’t be sold, the Octopods won’t keep her. Airlocks are efficient, and I have no doubt they’ll use one.
Her desperation spills over as she drops to her hunches, gesturing toward me. Silently begging. Giving the impression we might have met before.
The crowd’s attention turns to me. My face heats with embarrassment. “I don’t know this human pet,” I announce, my voice calm but firm. “I don’t want her.” She’s not what I came here for. I need a show-quality pet, not one with a tarnished past or, worse, unpredictable mental instability.
The auctioneer clicks sharply, clearly eager to make a sale. “Five hundred UCs for the Imperial man,” he offers.
I barely suppress a scoff. Cheap, I think, but then again, she’s “defective.” I raise a hand, giving the galactic gesture for: Not a chance in a blackhole.
She sees it. Her gaze meets mine briefly, and I catch the spark of realization in her eyes. She knows I’ve declined. Her eyes narrow, the fire within her unmistakable. A faint smile tugs at my lips. Yes, Wild One. Keep that defiance. You’ll need it if you survive another hour.
Wild One continues her slow rotation on the platform, her eyes scanning the crowd, but no one bids.
The auctioneer tries again. “Four hundred UCs, and a hundred UC discount on another human.”
Now they have my attention. I lean back in my seat, considering. I raise a hand, gesturing for a counter offer.
“Fifty for Wild One,” I reply coolly, “and a hundred and fifty discount on another human female.”
The auctioneer clicks and hisses in negotiation. Finally, after a few more rotations of Wild One under the spotlight, and no other bids, he agrees to my exceptionally low offer.
It’s clear she doesn’t realize I’ve purchased her. As the handler approaches to retrieve her, she narrows her eyes at me again.
Yes, Wild One. Hang onto that spark—I’m not going to be easy on you.
Now she’s mine. I’m going to double my odds by training her and another human female I buy today.
Before the next human is brought out, my IC buzzes. It’s Kaelin.
“Did you really just buy a flesh-eating human?” his voice is sharp with disbelief.
“We’ll muzzle her until we know she’s safe, and then train her,” I reply evenly.
“But why?”
“She’s gorgeous.”
“And dangerous.”
“They were practically giving her away,” I counter, hesitating before adding, “She begged me, Kaelin. As if she were almost Imperial.”
“What if she takes off Ember’s penis with her teeth?”
“I highly doubt Ember is going to forcibly put his penis in her mouth. And we don’t know the full context of the video. We’ll figure out how to handle her. She might be just the right kind of pet for Ember to bond with, igniting his loyalty rather than smothering it. And she clearly has a mind that adapts under pressure and a physical body that can endure the challenges of the pet games.”
“If she eats any of the males’ penises on board, it’s on you.”
“I know,” I say firmly. “It’s my outfit. My responsibility.”
“If I were you I would have held out for something normal.”
“Wild One was so cheap I’ll buy the best female here as well. Don’t worry. We’ll train them both.”
I close my IC as the next human is presented.
A human female steps onto the platform, her hair is the perfect shade of pale yellow and her cream-colored skin glows magnificently under the lights. But she’s small and fragile, her shoulders are hunched over as she stares at her feet and tears are streaming down her face. She’s weak. Useless. She could never be a show pet.
The next human is taller, with blonde hair and striking brown eyes. She stands trembling, clearly terrified. But there’s potential. Fear can be reshaped. She’s exactly what I’m looking for.
The bidding begins, and I find myself locked in a battle with several other trainers. The price climbs higher than I’d like, but in the end, I win.
When the auction concludes, I leave the Auction Hall to pay for my purchases and collect my humans.
My two humans are brought out on leashes, naked and filthy. The standard state for humans in Octopod custody.
I step forward to claim them, keeping my movements deliberate, calm, and assertive.
The auctioneer hands over the restraints, and I take them. The smaller human, who I’ve already begun calling Yellow One, keeps her gaze fixed on the ground. I lift up her chin with my finger, forcing her gaze up. She has the most exquisite brown eyes. Then I cup one of her breasts with my free hand. It’s perfect. I slap it to see how far it’ll move and it’s just the right size. Then I caress the fur between her legs, running a finger over her inner fold there. She’s completely dry. Yellow One is frozen and all I see is fear in her eyes. The perfect human pet to mold. It’s better when they’re like this to begin with.
“Soon you’ll crave my touch,” I tell her. Then I turn my attention to Wild One. She’s looking at me curiously.
I tilt my head slightly, considering her demeanor. Then, for the first time with any pet, I activate my external translator. In a perfect human language, I reply, “Listen to me now, as this is the only time you will hear me speak in your tongue. I don’t expect submission, Wild One, I expect strength. And you will give it to me. I am your master now.”
I turn to the auctioneer. “I’ll need a muzzle for Wild One.”
“That’ll cost you,” the Octopod replies, clicking lazily.
“No, it won’t,” I counter. “I’m doing you a favor by taking her off your hands.”
The auctioneer considers this for a moment, then produces a muzzle. As expected, Wild One resists the Octopod’s attempts to restrain her.
“Give it to me,” I say, extending my hand. The auctioneer hesitates, then relents, handing me the device. I pass Yellow One’s leash to a guard and focus on Wild One.
I pull Wild One into my arms with firm control. At barely 170 centimeters, she doesn’t even reach my chest. Holding her tightly, I cradle the back of her skull, gripping her long hair at the nape as I begin to fit the muzzle around her face, but I pause.
My external translator is still on. So I ask her, “Do you know why they fear you?”
She’s momentarily caught off guard. “No one fears me. I’m treated like an animal.”
“That’s incorrect,” I say, holding her gaze. “They fear what they can’t understand. And what they can’t understand, they can’t control. That’s why they left you to me. Not because you’re especially dangerous—you’re just a little thing—but because they lack the will to forge strength from fire. But you’re mine. And now I will hammer you into something useful or you’ll die in the process.”
I don’t wait for her response. I fit the muzzle into her mouth and activate it, silencing her.
Wild One immediately tries to pull off the muzzle, but it’s futile. Only someone who can read the access code on the back can remove it, and humans can’t decipher anything but their own crude languages.
I retrieve Yellow One’s leash from the auctioneer and lead my new pets out. My guards fall into step behind us, but I keep the punishment taser in one hand and the leashes in the other. Experience has taught me to always be prepared.
Sure enough, as we near the docking bay, Yellow One tries to bolt. Without hesitation, I deliver a quick shock with the taser, dropping her to the damp misty floor.
She looks up at me, her brown eyes wide with shock.
Yes, I think, you have a lot to learn.
My guards haul her to her feet, and when she refuses to walk, I swat her backside with my hand. “Walk Yellow One, Walk,” I command, knowing she doesn’t understand the words yet. But there’s no time like the present to begin her education.
We join the disembarkment line, a tedious affair that stretches longer than I’d like. My new humans aren’t ready for this level of patience. I don’t want either of them embarrassing me by urinating here. Humans can be unpredictable when stressed.
I spot a human play area, a pitiful little enclosure with basic obstacles and toys. It’s poorly maintained, but it will serve my purpose. I lead my pets inside and secure their restraints to a central tether. I notice there are a few male pets also here, but I think maybe it’ll calm Yellow One if she has a male inside of her so I don’t bother putting a chastity device on her. I look at Wild One and decide the muzzle will keep the males away. Then, I leave them to their own devices while I handle the bureaucracy of disembarkment
By the time I’ve worked my way through the line, presented my documentation, and cleared the formalities, I’m the last one to collect my humans.
The play area is quiet as I step inside, save for the faint sound of whimpering. My stomach tightens. Wild One. She must have frightened Yellow One—perhaps even attacked her.
I stride toward the back, past the miniature obstacle course. Yellow One is huddled in a corner, tears streaming down her cream-colored cheeks. Wild One stands at a distance, still restrained and wearing her muzzle.
Yellow One’s distress is problematic. I crouch in front of her, studying her carefully. She’s not injured, but something is clearly wrong. I reach out to soothe her the way I’ve found humans often respond to—by stroking the patch of fur between their legs. Instead of calming her, she swats my hand away.
Annoyed, I slap her breast firmly but not harshly, a reminder of her place. Still, she cries harder.
“Enough of this,” I say, more to myself than her. I try again, running my hand through her fur gently, this time, I allow my fingers to slightly enter her folds and I briefly touch her clitoris with my thumb, but once again, she pushes me away.
I frown, confused. “What’s wrong with you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wild One approaching. I motion for her to come closer.
When she reaches me, I stroke the fur between her legs to test her reaction, fully expecting her to lash out. Instead, she stares at me, her green eyes wide with what I can only describe as bewilderment.
This isn’t what I anticipated from her. No anger—just a strange curiosity in her expression, as though she’s trying to decipher my motives. For a brief moment, I’m fascinated.
A loud hiss breaks my focus. I whip my head around to see Yellow One sprinting toward the airlock, her body lit by the flashing orange emergency lights.
“Stop!” I shout, my voice echoing through the space, but it’s too late.
Her small hand slams against the blue release button. The airlock begins to open, and the sudden vacuum pulls at everything in the room. My heart lurches as loose objects are sucked into the void.
Without thinking, I grab Wild One and pull her against me, holding her tightly as I activate my gravity boots. The suction is fierce, threatening to tear us apart, but the boots hold firm, anchoring us to the floor. Wild One clings to me instinctively, her naked body trembling against mine as the airlock completes its cycle.
Three long seconds pass before the alarms stop blaring and the room begins to pressurize. Warmth and oxygen flood back in, but it’s already too late for Yellow One. She’s gone, her body lost to the emptiness of space. The only thing left of her is the part of her leash still attached to the tethering bar.
As the air stabilizes, I loosen my grip on Wild One.
She looks up at me. Her green eyes frantic.
“What happened?” I ask rhetorically. I know she can’t understand me or answer with the muzzle on.
She shakes her head and motions for me to remove it.
“Nice try,” I say, ignoring her request.
I take a moment to steady myself, replaying the scene in my mind. Yellow One’s actions were impulsive and thoughtless. She likely didn’t understand the consequences of opening an airlock. She might have thought her leash attached to the tethering pole would have kept her safe. Humans are ignorant of the dangers that exist beyond their little planet.
I glance down at Wild One. She’s watching me closely, no doubt waiting for direction. Some humans have such a short attention span I wonder if she remembers there was another female with her.
I pat her head in reassurance. At least I still have one human to train.