Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
“I should soap your mouth again for biting me again,” he says, his tone slightly stern.
I let my hand drift down between my thighs, my fingertips finding my clit. He might not have let me come with his cock inside me, but he can’t stop me from coming now.
“Uh uh,” he corrects me, moving my hand away. “Orgasm is for good pets. Being fucked and used and left dripping cum, that is for the kind of pet you have decided to be.”
I let out another sound of complaint, but privately I feel my pussy pulse with how goddamn hot his words are, coming to me in that alien growl through those wild and dangerous tusks. I’m supposed to feel punished, and I suppose I do, but it is hot as hell.
He starts washing my hair, using a cleansing lotion that smells like berries and yoghurt. The scent of it makes my stomach rumble as a new biological appetite comes rushing to the fore. I’ve lost weight on this alien world, too nervous to eat sometimes, and not being fed appropriately most of the rest. My owners used to feed me once a day according to their own appetites. These aliens only have one meal per day. It is a large one, but it works out to being one meal every couple of days if they make us eat on their schedule.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you,” he says sympathetically. “I am sorry you have not been well taken care of since your arrival on this planet. I had hoped for better for you. I will ensure you have better from here on out.”
“You can’t stop other people from…”
“I can, because no other Euphorian will ever put hands on you again. I have decided to keep you for my own.”
I turn in the bath to look at him. He gives me a tusk-ey smile as he rinses my hair.
“You were mine the moment I laid eyes on you. Your being sold was a mistake I tried to correct. You will not leave my side again, Jennifer. So you can stop fighting, and you need have no fear. You have found your alien master.”
I try not to smile too wide. I fail.
4
When I wake, it is quiet. My belly is full and my body feels satisfied in spite of the fact I have been cruelly denied orgasm.
Arkan is asleep. I can hear the soft rhythmic sound of his breathing at the head of the bed. It is dark outside. Nights on Euphoria last almost twice as long as they do on Earth, as do days. This means humans get sleepy in the middle of the day and wake up in the middle of the night. Arkan has to know this about us, but I guess he figured I was super tired, enough to sleep through most of the Euphoric night.
Fortunately, the mechanisms on these crates are not really human-proof. The ones he uses for transport and in the shop are different. They are much more heavy-duty. But this one is a lighter home sort of edition and the metal on this bends in places if you know where to put pressure on. I know this because my previous owners tried to contain me in one of these.
The crate looks quite out of place in Ark’s otherwise ornate and classically decorated bedroom. I was surprised when he dragged it out for me. I had assumed I would sleep in the bed with him, but he seems to think it is important I know my place — whatever that means.
It takes a little wrangling, but I manage to unclip the little latch that is supposed to keep me in. I’ve been very careful to never let the aliens see me do this.
While Arkan sleeps, I creep out of his bedroom on soft feet and make my way out into the hallway. This house is huge. Easily large enough to provide shelter for several families. The place I lived in back on Earth was so many times smaller than this I can’t even put a mathematical number to it.
It seems perverse to me that one person would have so much space and so many riches. I haven’t seen any poor aliens on Euphoria as yet, but experience tells me they have to exist.
I start going from room to room. Most of the rooms up here are bedrooms, and they’re all empty. Coming from a planet with a perpetual housing crisis, it’s like a slap in the face to go from room to room and find nothing but fancy big beds and even fancier decorations.
The impulse to make this stuff mine is too much to bear. I start snatching things here and there, just the shiny things, the gold and the silver and anything that gleams. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with them. I guess I’ll stash them somewhere so I can get them on the spaceship I intend to steal.