Page 2 of I'm Not Your Pet

It was.

I’d ace it.

I totally would.

The room felt smaller than ever as I squirmed in my uniform—a pair of black shorts that left literally nothing to the imagination. They’d chafed at first, but now I barely noticed, even when they rode up my butt when I danced. Pulling at the metal collar The Manager had quite literally welded around my neck on my first day, I did some jumping jacks to warm up while I waited to see what kinda creature I’d meet this time.

Hopefully, it was someone vaguely humanoid.

As I stretched, my thoughts wandered.

Don’t get me wrong, the work didn’t bother me.

Honestly, seeing the different species was fun as hell. For a guy who’d never left his hometown but was obsessed with strange, fascinating species, working with clients from across the galaxy was kind of a dream come true.

I mean, our clients came from planets scattered all over the galaxy, which made this an occupation that never grew boring. Once, I even gave a lap dance to a dude with three heads andfourthumbs. You got that right. Fourthumbs.

Fuckin’ wild.

He worked as an “accountant” for a firm three planets away and had been attending a bachelor party for his wealthy friend. Whatever the galactic equivalent for a bachelor party was, anyway. As far as I could tell, the accountant-guy was the only one in his group who had four thumbs, so I wasn’t really interested in the others.

What was the purpose of that, anyway?

Four thumbs?

He’d be a whizz at opening bottles.

Anyway, he’d enjoyed his night in “Space Vegas” and I’d enjoyed asking him questions, because it had been one of the rare occasions—before now—that I’d used this room and was given a translator to wear.

Distracting myself by interrogating him had made the night go by swiftly. Now, however, even the prospect of talking to someone new was not enough to divert my attention from what I was expected to do. Even without the translator, I knew that this customer was important. I mean,obviously. Because of the whole “SUCK HIS DICK OR DIE” thing. The translator only further solidified that.

I hoped I’d eventually climb up the ranks high enough The Manager would let me get a replacement implant from A&R. I knew they were expensive. But it would be nice to have something that would lend me more permanent understanding.I had about a thousand questions, and I wished I could ask them whenever I wanted.

The GPS-locked translators were okay, though.

Even if I only got to use them for really important clients.

Like this guy.

My current customer who had just opened through the door.

Who was…apparently pink.

And squishy.

Like Jell-O.

I’d gaped, maybe a bit rudely, when he’d stepped inside the room. With a quietclick, the door had shut behind him and he’d paused directly in front of it, ogling me for a beat as I ogled him right back. In my defense, he’d closed the door by shooting out a thousand tiny prehensile tentacles. Though…I wasn’t sure if that was an accurate name for them, as they reminded me more of ropey bubblegum than something an octopus would have. “Tendril” was more fitting.

The guest seemed to shapeshift effortlessly—his tendrils disappearing just as quickly as they had formed, leaving his upper limbs arm and hand-like once again.

Just pink.

And—did I mentionpink?

Which was just…so fucking cool.

Aside from being able to transform, his appendages looked fairly “normal”. Five fingers. Even fingernails, though those were more like claws. Other than the fact they were partially see-through, and clearly made of the same mystery organic substance as the rest of his body, they weren’t all that odd.

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