The Alien Warlords' Punished Pet

I swore I would never serve a triad of towering, marble-skinned alien warlords, yet becoming their pet was the only way to stay out of prison.

At first they cared for me, but care has given way to punishment, training, and rules I am not allowed to break.

A collar and leash are only the start: they choose my clothes and meals, keep me caged, and answer disobedience with rough spankings and fresh humiliations.

Some shameful part of me wants that control more than the freedom I keep promising myself.

I tell myself the contract must end and that they will have to release me, yet the more they train me, the more I fear I am beginning to crave their brutality no matter how much it hurts.