Page 42 of My Wild Pet

Aefre shakes his head and says something I don’t understand. But then he motions to his ring. I don’t want him to force me to empty myself entirely again. That was painful.

So I force out poo while he watches.

When he’s content with my toilet activities, he brushes my teeth for me with a laser. Apparently human pets are not skilled enough to manage this by ourselves. But I don’t mind, he’s standing behind me and his muscular body against mine feels good. And I relax against him hoping that after this he’ll allow me to orgasm.

But the next thing he does is brush my pubic hair. I suppose it is long enough to brush, but it’s odd. I watch as he runs a small brush through my hair between my legs and I realize suddenly that if he continues this, I will orgasm.

However, he must have noticed this too so he says something I don’t understand then stops brushing.Damn. So close.

After we are both finished in the bathroom, I follow Aefre into his walk-in closet. The space feels more like a showroom than a closet, sleek but dimly lit like the rest of the ship. Thewalls are lined with racks of clothing, each piece hung with meticulous precision. There are shelves stacked with items I don’t recognize and drawers that hold who-knows-what. It’s an unsettling mix of luxury and alien practicality.

Aefre dresses himself in a nondescript tunic and trousers similar to what he always wears and then he moves with his usual methodical steps looking for something else. I’m assuming it’s something for me. His green eyes scan the options in front of him, as though choosing the perfect outfit is some grand decision. The only hint that he’s pleased with whatever plan he has for today is that he’s tapping his finger on his thigh.

I glance at the clothing in what I would call the ‘human pet section’ of his wardrobe. Most of it isn’t clothing, not really. The pieces look more like costumes—tight, shiny, elaborate, and impractical. Pieces designed to accentuate and to display.

Aefre finally pulls something off the rack, holding it up for a moment as he inspects it. It’s small and shimmers faintly under the soft light. I catch glimpses of straps and what looks like metallic accents.

Whatever this is, it’s different from what I wore on the obstacle course yesterday. That was somewhat functional, meant for running and climbing and falling, minus a bra and underwear. This... isn’t. It’s something different.

“For you, Ash,” he says, and doesn’t look at me as he sets the outfit down. Then moving to another section of the closet, he selects a pair of black booties—small, soft-looking things, nothing I could run in. He sets them next to the outfit, then turns to me. “Come,” he says.

My heart pounding as he dresses me. I’m hoping he will touch me between my legs so I can orgasm. I purposely move so that the fabric briefly touches my clit, but it’s not nearly enough.

Aefre’s fingers move without any sexual intent. They’re soft and controlled as he finds my nipples and lines up two smallholes in the outfit. Then he does the same for my vulva, exploding with pubic hair, and my stupid tail. Next he puts fitted silver suspenders on me that go between my legs and accentuate my breasts with a hook or something at the back. It’s like I’m going to be attached to something. There’s no mirror in here but I imagine I look like some kind of Shein Barbarella with my boobs and dyed pink pussy exposed.

This can’t be good, I think as he finally attaches my leash and leads me to the pet center for breakfast.

CHAPTER 19

Gabriel

Briar steps into the pet feeding area right behind Aefre.

Mon Dieu. Yesterday’s endurance tests pushed her too far, that much is obvious, but I worry there’s more. Did Aefre have sex with her last night? Already? The thought boils my blood.

Then I notice it—the silver harness strapped tightly across her chest and through her legs, pulsing faintly with Imperial tech. The harnais linguistique. My throat tightens. Memories I’ve buried for years resurface. And I swallow hard, pushing down the nausea associated with that, the language harness.

Efficient. Effective. Brutal. It forces the wearer to learn Imperial through direct neural stimulation, bypassing natural cognition and creating artificial pathways in the brain. It’s the Imperials’ favorite way of making humans “civilized.” But it’s torture. And now, it’s wrapped around Briar.

Her green eyes scan the room. For a moment, they meet mine. She knows something is off. She can sense it.

Every pet here recognizes the harness. We’ve all endured the barbaric device.

Kaelin’s voice breaks the silence. “Focus on your bowls, all of you. Or you’ll go hungry.”

The others obey instantly, their heads dipping into their food. But I can’t look away from Briar.

I know exactly what awaits her. The disorientation, the nausea, and the pure, unrelenting agony in the language harness. Stumbling over words never heard before, meanings that haven’t had time to settle in the mind. And through it all, Aefre will watch, impassive and detached, as though this is just another day of training. All the while, the pressure in the skull becomes unbearable, like the brain is being blown up and then stitched back together again.

I grip the edge of my bowl. I want to warn her.

Her gaze meets mine.

This time, I force a smile—small, reassuring, hollow. I hope she can draw strength from something I don’t even feel. Sois forte, Briar. Be strong.

Kaelin’s hand clamps down on my neck, shoving my face into my own bowl. The wet food covers the whole lower part of my face. “Focus, Ember.”

I bite back a retort.

---