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The memory of a world far from this one returns to my mind. Harsh words, rough actions, a life of struggle and toil. He wants to take that all away from me. He wants to make my life easy. All I have to do is submit to him and whoever he sells me to, and…
Fuck. That.
It is a real effort to rouse myself from the comfortable state of dreamy submission he has put me into. I am fighting my body and many parts of my mind. But fight I must.
“Settle down,” he says soothingly.
“Let me fucking go,” I growl.
There’s a brief pause and maybe something like a sigh. “Back to your feisty self are you, pet?” His tone is not overly concerned, or surprised.
“I’m my own person. I’m not your pet. Now let me up and let me go, or I will…” I search my mind for threats. “I will ruin this world.”
“The world?” He chuckles. “You’re going to ruin the entire world, are you, pet?”
He doesn’t take me seriously. He should.
Arkan ignores my post-punishment cursing and growling as he puts me back inside my travel crate with my ass burning and my pride bruised. These aliens have a way of making a person truly feel like a pet, and I know that appeals to some, like the guy he just resold after having captured him five minutes ago. But it doesn’t appeal to me. I burn with a desire to manifest my own goddamn destiny. There is a part of me that is forever animal, properly wild and free in spite of shackles, cages, and spankings.
Looking out through bars offends that part of me deeply. I was not born to live in a cage. I was not made to be a pet. I am a wild fucking animal, and I intend to keep acting like it no matter what Arkan and his crew of advanced alien customers do.
Maybe if I act badly enough, I’ll get humans banned, the way certain dog breeds used to be banned back on Earth before everybody had bigger things to worry about. Anything to make a difference in the lives of others. I’ll be as terrible as I can be in service of humanity.
Arkan picks me up, cage and all, and hefts me into the back of his transport vehicle. There aren’t many wheeled vehicles on this world, but his is an exception. I guess it’s like a pickup truck with a big back deck. My crate is put on that deck, and then fastened with straps.
“Be good,” Arkan says, tapping the crate. He then walks away, gets in the truck, and sets off for wherever home is.
This world is rich. The city I’m in spans mile upon mile over what seems to be largely flat terrain. They like to build up in big spiral-type buildings, large at the base and tapering up as they get taller. Almost all of them have exterior walkways around the outside of them, and a lot of those walkways link up with other buildings, creating a massive city-wide network of paths suspended hundreds of feet in the air.
Arkan’s little human pet shop is located in an older area of the city, in what humans would call the outskirts if this was a human city. There are cobble-style streets and little houses and shops. It’s adorable and quaint and the vibe is somewhere between ye olde cottage and 1950’s wholesome. I needed to get myself returned here, not because of this location, but because of what this location is somewhat adjacent to: the wilderness.
I noticed when I was first brought here that out beyond the sprawl of older housing and shops is a verdant, thick forest. These aliens have created a very dense city that fits many millions of them inside it, but they’ve also apparently left large swathes of their home world untouched.
This is where my second plan comes in. I’ve always dreamed of living out in nature, away from other people, and especially away from other aliens. I’m drawn by the prospect of solitude and freedom, away from obligation to anybody. Arkan thinks he’s offering me a perfect life because I’d be taken care of, and on one level, sure. Not having to provide for myself inside a capitalist structure of commerce and trade is attractive on some level. The idea of just being an animal living wild, not beholden to a system that takes what we’re all entitled to forage for ourselves, and turns it into commodities we must grind our very lives to the literal bone for.
My plan was to leave the city and go into the wilds back on Earth, but it was hard. Most of the wilderness was toxic, and what wasn’t was covered in tiny houses in various states of disarray. Vicious van lifers roamed the forests, beaches, highways, byways, and anything remotely drivable in small packs, stopping only to dance to viral beats from time to time. They had started out as peaceful people, escaping society, but over time they naturally evolved into small tribes raiding other tribes for spare tires, cute storage options, and life-hacks.
Point is, when an entire world is broken, there’s nowhere to run. But this alien world is not broken, and here I have some chance of a true escape, home-free.
Arkan
That was quite a punishment. It was also quite a recovery from a punishment. I cannot imagine how hard she had to fight herself to reclaim her defiance so quickly. Most pets, once punished, like to be caressed and comforted for quite some time afterward, reassured that they are still good.
But nothing is easy with this one. It is entirely possible that it never will be easy with her. I’ve caught hundreds of humans over the years, and though some have to be rehomed after their first sale in order to find an owner who truly suits them, I’ve never had an outright return for bad behavior. Most humans quickly realize that they have fallen on their feet in our world once they have a comfortable bed and as much food as they care to eat. Our species treats humans with a certain reverence and compassion, acknowledging their place in the chain of evolution. They may be simple beasts who cannot speak mind to mind, but they are part of a cosmic heritage, a lineage from which we all descend in one way or another.
Jennifer is an exquisite specimen, as beautiful as she is temperamentally strange. I find the way her eyes flash pure fire at me, and the sheer loathing she seems to be holding onto quite uncommon. Most humans come pre-tamed, broken by their own systems. They are usually grateful for food, shelter, protection, for never having to make another decision in their lives.
She’s trouble, but she’s also very pretty. We do not mate outside our species, but there are rumors that some human females, and indeed males, have made intimate companions for our kind. I, of course, have never mated the merchandise, and I do not encourage it. But suddenly, I understand it.
I wish she was not back in the deck in her cage. I’d like to have her ride in the front seat beside me. I’d like to talk to her about her life before this moment and explain what awaits her on this world. I’d like to see her purr instead of hiss and growl. But for now, I know she’d probably leap from the moving vehicle the very first chance she got.
I want to tame her.
There’s a challenge to this human I haven’t encountered before. I know it won’t be easy. I don’t want to break her spirit. I just want to break through this untrusting exterior and see her soft. I want her to feel safe with me. I want everything every pet owner wants, for his pet to be happy.
I do know this: there’s no chance of selling her again. Not now she’s gone and bitten someone. If the authorities discover that, they’ll impound and destroy her. She’s a liability. A danger. And she’s mine.
I should have known it when I captured her…
