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

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Briar

“The word was ‘pet.’ We are pets,” Rebecca says. She’s the other woman who was bought by the grey man and the one who had kept trying to explain to me what was going on while we were in the cells.

I adjust my jaw against the muzzle, wincing at the rawness of my skin. Another human pet, clever enough to decipher part of the access code, managed to release the locking mechanism just enough for me to speak, though it’s still awkward. “That’s not what I got,” I manage to say. “I kept thinking... bet, set...”

Rebecca stares at me like I’m the dumbest person alive. “Why would we be saying ‘bet’ or ‘set’? That doesn’t make any sense.”

I shrug helplessly. “Right?”

She shakes her head and sighs. “But it was justified, I mean, what you did to that man.”

I’m confused for a minute. Then I remember, Big. She’s talking about him. “He blamed his bad behavior on all of you in the cell across from ours.”

“How?”

“Because you were all naked.”

“Every human in this place is naked,” she says flatly.

“I know. I pointed that out, but he said it was different for women.”

Her eyes reflect exactly the same way I felt when he told me too. That look that says, ‘How is it that some men can live side-by-side with women and still not see us as human beings?’

Then she says, “He deserved what was coming to him. It was God’s will.”

“I’d call it rage,” I reply.

She’s looking at me, but it’s clear she’s remembering something terrible. “Before you, we watched him murder three other men. He made them give him blowjobs and he sodomized them. Then, when they began to refuse to… service him… he killed them. And to my shame, I couldn’t look away. Some craving inside me made me want to watch. And I mean, watch everything.”

“Did you watch me too?”

“Yes, we did. In our own sinister way, we were all hoping you’d do it—bite it off to protect yourself from that monster.” Rebecca looks ashamed.

“I don’t think it’s sinful to watch. I mean, I’m no expert on scripture, but there’s that bit about ‘an eye for an eye,’ right?”

“True. But it still felt… wrong somehow. Like we crossed a line. I’m afraid I’m going to be punished for it now, by him . This grey human looking man who has us on leashes.”

I grind my teeth against the muzzle, remembering my mania in that moment. “Sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel respectable at all, but then again neither does taking out the garbage. You always have to wash your hands afterwards.”

Rebecca is not impressed with my attempt at humor and she looks off into the distance ending our conversation.

I break the silence after a few minutes. “I’m grateful to be with someone who at least looks human even if he’s got grey skin. He could have a lizard tongue for all I know, but at least he doesn’t look like an actual lizard. Or an octopus-man. Just a well-fed zombie.”

Rebecca doesn’t respond. Instead, she turns her back to me, her shoulders shaking as she starts to cry.

I tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could say it’s going to be okay,” I say softly. “But... I don’t know if it is.”

She whirls around, her face wet with tears. “We’re naked, Briar. With leashes around our necks. We have lost all of our dignity and you’re just sitting there, letting it happen to you. This is only going to get worse! Why aren’t you worried about what’s going to happen next?” Her voice cracks as the words spill out. Then she presses her hands together and begins to pray.

“Pray with me, Briar,” she pleads.

I hesitate. “I’m sorry, Rebecca. It’s been years since I entered a church.” A memory from my time at a Catholic orphanage pops into my mind and I push it down as fast as I can. “And... being here? This only makes me surer God doesn’t exist.”

Rebecca’s hand flies across my face before I can register what’s happening. The slap stings, and the muzzle digs painfully into my skin. “Ow! What the hell?”

She looks more shocked than I feel, her hand trembling as she pulls it back. “I’m so sorry, Briar,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to, but God exists. We can’t lose our faith now. God created the universe, not just Earth. He’s testing us. He was working through you when you saved yourself and others from that bad man. Now we must pray for guidance.”

“Maybe God wants us to see the galaxy,” I say. “Maybe He wants you to meet the aliens He created too.”

Rebecca’s brown eyes narrow. “God didn’t create aliens,” she says with absolute certainty, as though the very idea is blasphemous.

“You don’t know that,” I counter. “Why wouldn’t He have created aliens? If He made the universe, wouldn’t that include everything in it?”

“Because we were created in His image,” she tells me, her expression turning reverent as she bows her head and begins to pray aloud.

“Dear God, if You’re listening—please, I beg of You—help us. Don’t let us lose ourselves in this place. Give is strength. Strength to survive. And if there’s a way out of this, show us the way. Give us a sign, a chance, something we can hold onto. But if there isn’t—if this is all we have left—then allow us into Your Heavenly Kingdom no matter how far we are from Earth. Amen.” Rebecca looks up at me expectantly.

“Amen,” I say for her.

Then, I step away, giving her space. Her whispered prayers continue, her voice soft and pleading.

Now it’s just the two of us left here, in this strange little space filled with colorful balls and soft mats. With nothing to distract me, I’m trapped with my own thoughts, and the realization that this is my new reality.

I’m an alien’s pet.

Maybe I should be praying too.

The grey man who bought us comes to the back, seeking out Rebecca. I can see it on his face, the concern. I hear him make a strange hushing sound as I slowly join them.

I watch him stroke Rebecca between her legs like he’s petting a pet pussy. I smile thinking about that sentence, but my smile turns to a frown when she violently pushes his grey hand away and he retaliates by harshly smacking her naked breasts like a man who has slapped many women’s naked breasts and knows how to make it hurt.

She begins crying even louder. I pity Rebecca, she never said so, but I have no doubt that Rebecca has never had a boyfriend and was saving herself for marriage. Now she’ll never get that wedding day or the human husband. Instead she’s living out another woman’s fantasy of being an alien man’s pet.

I want to tell Rebecca that it’s not that bad, but I don’t want the grey man to know that my muzzle has been partially released, so I say nothing. This man who bought us may look innocent enough, but he did just purchase us, and we’re naked except for our leashes. Who knows what kind of punishments he inflicts on pets or slaves or whatever we are if we don’t obey him?

Rebecca is inconsolable, so our grey captor abandons her, and moves to stroke me like a pussy. If I could purr for him I would. This wasn’t my fantasy, but neither was getting married and living a traditional life. To be honest, I never had a fantasy. I think I’ve been stuck in survival mode since my father died.

And so far, this doesn’t seem too bad. The more I see of our new master, the more I like the look of him. More than the octopus-like aliens, and he, at least, spoke to me in English, even though he said he was never going to do it again. But he already broke that promise once which speaks volumes to his character, grey skin zombie or not. He has compassion.

I watch him stroke my pubic hair and I want to know more about him. Why he looks human but with grey skin and why he has a leash on us. Are we his pets for real?

I don’t know. But right now I want to please him so he doesn’t return me to the octopus-like aliens. I think about how I might mimic a purring sound as I look into my master’s green eyes.

Something passes between us. A spark.

If he were human I’d say it was lust. Or maybe it’s just because a man is rubbing my genitals. He’s better looking than any of the other aliens and with my survival mode kicking in, I might even be convincing myself that this alien is handsome and that I want him to touch me.

The moment shatters when an alarm pierces the air, and suddenly, I’m being yanked into the grey man’s arms.

The airlock is opening.

Loud klaxons blare, but I still can hear Rebecca yelling at me. “God has spoken to me through prayer! Free yourself from that grey Devil and join me! We will be forgiven!”

Before I can process her words, the strongest wind I’ve ever felt rips through the room, pulling everything into the vacuum of space. The air is freezing, burning my skin with its intensity. I hold onto the grey man—or maybe he’s holding onto me. I’m not sure anymore.

All I know is that when it’s over, Rebecca is gone. She chose to risk her eternal soul rather than be caressed inappropriately by this alien. That is true courage .

The alarms fall silent, leaving only the slight vibration of the ship and the sound of my own breathing.

The grey man looks at me, his expression one of shock, and then he asks me something unintelligible, I assume he asked, “Why?”

I stare at him, incredulously. Seriously? I want to scream at him, ‘Gee, I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t want to be your naked pet in space.’ But I keep my mouth shut. Instead, I motion for him to take off my muzzle.

He ignores me.

My gaze drifts to the small window in the airlock door. Rebecca is out there, frozen in place, her face serene, like some kind of macabre Sleeping Beauty.

Rest in peace, I think, swallowing hard. Despite not being religious, I mentally pray that she’s in a better place. I should have noticed she was suicidal, and said something more comforting. But then again, I was honest with her, because I don’t know what’s going to happen.

The grey man follows my line of sight, then quickly shackles my wrist to his, tethering me so I can’t make a similar choice. He pulls me away from the airlock and leads me back to the area we were in before.

The bustling crowd of aliens is gone. Now, only a few remain—three grey men and some of those awful octopus aliens, their tentacles moving sluggishly as if nothing unusual just happened.

As we walk, the shackle around my wrist rubs uncomfortably against my master’s. His skin feels human, almost familiar—just grey. I glance out another window, searching for Rebecca, but she’s gone. It’s like she never existed.

Did that really just happen?

I close my eyes and force myself to breathe. It was real. I know it was. I wish it weren’t.

Rebecca chose to end her life rather than live with a complete loss of dignity. And all while I imagined I was having a “special moment” with our new owner.

What does that make me?