Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Mara ran from me again today.
I caught her, of course. Now it’s time to teach her what happens to naughty girls.
But I’m not just going to pin my feisty little human to the wall and take what’s mine much more brutally than usual.
I’m going to put her on display wearing only a leash and collar and watch the ar*usal drip down her bare th!ghs as I show her the tail I’ll be adding to her outfit once I’ve spanked her a$$ red.
Then I’m going to breed her so h@rd she forgets all about being anything other than my little pet.
Publisher’s Note: Owning His Pet is a standalone romance that includes spankings, rough, intense sexual scenes, and strong D/s themes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Mara
“You’re human. You’re small. You’re weak. You’re wet. And you’re a very long way from home. You will serve me as my pet, and I will look after you as your master.”
The creature saying this to me is right about a lot of things. Compared to his towering alien frame, I am small. Given his massive muscular strength and the fact that he can easily hold me up scruffed with one hand, he is stronger than me too. I am wet because I almost drowned. It is also true that I am a lightyear away from where I started.
But I am not going to be his pet.
I could tell him that, but pictures are worth a thousand words, and actions are worth, like, a million.
I snap my teeth at his wrist. I catch blue scales and thick hide in my mouth. Neither one feels particularly bad, but they don’t yield beneath my bite. It’s like trying to chew through animal hide.
“One hundred percent attack, zero damage,” he laughs at me. “This is how you repay me for my kindness?”
“It’s not kindness if you’re trying to steal me from myself,” I argue.
Other aliens laugh on their way past. To them, I am already an alien’s pet. They come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and general limb and sensory configurations. There is an alien with its eyes on the outsides of its t-shaped head like a shark, and there is a sentient purple ball rolling around on its billion tentacles. Neither one of those could ever be considered pets. But as a human, I am free game in this part of the universe.
Nothing has gone right since I landed on this gods-forsaken station.
* * *
An hour ago…
My ship is sinking. This shouldn’t be happening because it’s a spaceship and I am docked on a remote station, but somehow I’m going to die like an old-timey pirate, except I’m being flooded by my own ship rather than by the ocean.
Water is flooding in through the lower compartment, which is particularly bad because the lower compartment is where the exit is, and the exit won’t open because it doesn’t like being underwater.
My father used to tell me if I tried to become a pirate I’d get scurvy, or end up with a parrot, both of which seemed like terrible fates to him. Even his paternal panic could never have conjured this.
“I’m not interested in being rescued,” I tell myself over and over. “I don’t need to be saved. I can do this myself. I can get out of it myself. I’m the rescuer. I don’t need help.”
Fuck me. I am going to die trapped in my own ship because of a series of design errors, which just feels like a real kick in the metaphorical testicles. I thought I’d die doing something cool, not becoming the victim of my own vessel.
“Clive!” I shout out to the ship’s automated brain. “Let me out!”
“Where would you like to go?”
“Anywhere there’s oxygen and not water.”
Clive hums to himself for a moment. I used to find that sound endearing. It was installed because otherwise he’d just go silent and I wouldn’t know if he was still online and calculating things, or if he’d stopped processing things entirely and just turned himself off. The latter happened at least a dozen times before I downloaded the humming DLC.
“Clive, I’ve got about five minutes before I drown,” I say desperately.
“Oh, no,” Clive says. “That is not accurate at all.”
“No?”
“You have three minutes and twenty-three seconds before you drown.”
“Okay. I need you to open the door at the bottom of the hull so that the water drains out.”
“I can’t do that. It’s sealed.”
“I know, but can’t you find some way around it?”
“It’s sealed,” Clive repeats.
“Fine. Then open the emergency hatch. Open anything that will get me out, or help the water to drain. I’m going to fucking die if you don’t!”
“There once was a ship who put to sea, and the name of the ship was a Billy of Tea…” Clive hums as he goes about pretending to try to help me.
This is it.
My last experience in this life is going to be arguing with a disinterested robot. I didn’t get to do anything I wanted to do. I didn’t get to steal a policeman’s hat. I didn’t get to see the library in the Horsehead Nebula. I never attended a single brawl-for-all-fight club for aliens who punch good, or drank absinthe, or even had a cigarette. To be fair, I never wanted a cigarette, but the fact I’ve never had one is suddenly very important for reasons psychologists might one day be able to explain to me.
I guess it just seems messed up that I haven’t had the chance to ruin my health myself, the traditional human way, and it looks like I’ll never get the chance to.