Page 83 of My Wild Pet

“You look perfect,” he says. “The judges will see it too.”

I don’t say anything.Perfect.The perfect pet.

What happens if I don’t win for Aefre? Will he sell me? Will I become obsolete, discarded like a failed experiment? Or worse pushed out an airlock?

“Breathe, Ash,” Aefre says, his voice breaking through my spiraling thoughts. “You’ve trained for this. You’re going to perform fantastically.”

I force myself to take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly. I hear our names announced and I follow him as he leads me to the arena on a leash, I focus on my feet, one in front of the other.

As we enter the arena, lights blaze from every corner, illuminating the space with an unnatural brilliance. The alien crowd’s roar fills the air.

Memories of my auction suddenly flash through my mind, the bright lights, the alien faces, and the helplessness.

I stop, frozen.

Aefre whispers, “I can’t use the collar to calm you now. Don’t give that memory currency. Leave it. I bought you. You’re mine.” His hand tightens on the leash, pulling me back into motion.

I’m his. He owns me.He thinks this is going to calm me but it’s a statement that’s a double-edged sword. He keeps me safe now but his statement is also a reminder he can do whatever he wants with me.

We reach the center of the arena, and Aefre stops, his presence beside me solid and commanding. The leash in his hand feels like a lifeline. Like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality.

The alien judges sit high above us. Their expressions are cold and their attention is sharply focused on us. I feel like they’re cutting through the layers of glitter and fabric to assess the creature beneath. Me.

“Kneel, Ash,” Aefre says.

I lower myself to my knees, folding my hands neatly behind my head, my chest out, and posture straight, exactly as I’ve been taught.

The glaring lights and the alien audience make the terror inside of me bubble up again, but I try to focus only on Aefre’s voice as he guides me through the routine.

The command sequences are first. Aefre issues a rapid series of orders—sit, kneel, bow, roll over—all in Imperial, expecting me to keep up flawlessly. The slightest hesitation might earn a humiliating correction in front of the entire audience and lose us points.

After Aefre has demonstrated his complete control over me, the linguistic portion begins, and I brace myself as the first question comes.

“State your name and origin,” one judge says, their tone clipped and hard.

“Ash,” I say clearly, though my voice trembles slightly. “Earth.”

“Describe your trainer in three words,” another demands.

I hesitate for a fraction of a second before glancing at Aefre. His green eyes meet mine, and I force myself to speak. “Strong. Intelligent. Kind.”

The judge nods, making a note on their tablet. The questions continue, each one a test of my fluency and composure. I navigate them as best I can, but one particularly tricky word catches me off guard. I stumble over the pronunciation, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I glance at Aefre, expecting his expression to harden, but it doesn’t. He remains unreadable.

Next is the examination of my body. This is my first pet show so I don’t know what is going to happen. Gabriel warned me that it’ll be invasive and embarrassing. I don’t know what could be more embarrassing than wearing this outfit with all my lady parts hanging out and running around with a leash and a master.

I kneel with my hands behind my head as Aefre stands next to me, waiting for the judges.

I close my eyes not wanting to look at the crowd.

“Open your eyes,” Aefre says. “You’re doing well.”

Aefre tugs on my collar to get me to my feet and usher me into the main judging panel. My heart races as I step onto the elevated metallic ring. All around me stand alien judges, each one more unsettling than the last.

The judges take turns coming closer and investigating my body, their features partially obscured by shadows or intricate headpieces. Some have strange eyes that shift colors as they hone in on me, while others have hard-shelled limbs or antennae that twitch when the spotlight moves. The variety is overwhelming. Nothing on Earth ever prepared me for this melting pot of terrifying anatomy.

I stand in the center, and a hush descends over the crowd. My pulse pounds in my ears as a spotlight pinpoints the augmented tail behind me. Every judge angles their gaze, assessing the forced modifications I’ve undergone. They also examine the extra pubic hair dyed to match my hair and then they begin prodding me. They open my labia and they investigate my asshole. They even play with my tail to see how naturally it’s connected to my tail bone. Then they bounce my breasts and pull on my nipples. My cheeks burn with humiliation.

A judge with slitted nostrils and shimmering, scale-like skin speaks in clipped Imperial. Her voice sounds like a whip cracking through the air. I can only pick out a few of her words, “modifications,” “performance,” and “human adaptability.”

---