Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Wanna ride?” trucker cap shrieks, making a suggestive motion with his hips.
“Get those men muzzled,” Kronos growls at his owner. “If your boys say so much as another word to my pet, you’ll have two human hams at the end of those leashes and nothing else.”
Sharp and Boss are backing him up too, silently coming up to stand in a small but massively muscular group around me. An intimidating oxymoron in motion.
“Come on, Steve,” the alien says. “Time to go home, boy.”
“But she’s pretty, and she’s fuckable,” he says. “Look at that pretty face!”
“Steve! Enough!”
Steve is dragged away, as is Lyle, and my mates take me into the vet clinic, where a very nice lady with very sharp teeth behind the counter gives me a piece of chocolate and tells them how cute I am.
“What a cute little human female,” she says. “She looks very healthy. That hair. Those eyes. I love it when they have slightly differently colored eyes.”
I have brown hair and more or less brown-colored eyes. I guess there’s a patch of green in the left one, but most people can’t see that unless they’re up real close. I guess some aliens can see better than some humans. If my memory serves me well, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t, aliens have all kinds of special abilities compared to humans. Depending on the species, they have better sight, hearing, speed, strength, reasoning…
“This must be your pet,” the vet says.
The vet is a big alien who looks like a walking dragon. Sort of like Sharp, but broader and with even more scales and horns. His entire face is covered in sharp scales of red and gold, and when he speaks, he does so in a deep and authoritative voice.
“Wow,” I say. “What are you?”
“I’m the vet,” he says.
“I know what…” I don’t know why I bother asking. There’s no need to repeat myself.
“Bring her through to the exam room,” he says. “You can all come in. Might be a tight squeeze, but something tells me you’re used to that.”
I don’t know what he means by that, unless it’s filthy and he’s saying they all bang me at the same time. He wouldn’t say that though, would he? Not very professional.
My mates take me into a room with an examination table slash bed that looks too small compared to them, but just right to me. Kronos picks me up and puts me on it.
“Stay,” he says. “If you start squirming, there will be trouble.”
“I’m sure she won’t be any trouble,” the vet says. “She seems like a very good girl.”
“Are the humans that get bred to be pets more stupid than the ones from the wild?” I ask the question in general, to whoever wants to answer.
“Why do you ask?” The vet takes the bait. My mates know better than to get involved in this conversational gambit.
“No reason,” I say. No reason other than the fact that this vet is talking to me like I am an idiot.
“Her head is bandaged,” the vet says.
“Yeah, because there’s a big hole in my skull from where it got cut open to take out a chip they put in,” I answer. “They stuck it back together, but if I bang my head too hard, my brain might fall out. Want to see?”
“No,” he says quickly. “At least, not yet. We will get to that portion of the examination later.”
“The part where my brain falls out?”
“Yes,” he says. “The part where your brain falls out.”
He’s indulging me. I’m being indulged.
Boss is leaning up against the door, I notice. His back is against it, and his arms are folded over his chest. He’s looking at me with a fairly mild expression, but I know his choice of placement was in no way random. He’s making sure I don’t get out of the room until they say so.
Something about that pisses me off. It’s one thing to be kept here, but it’s something else to be blocked in. I start wriggling off the table, which of course is not allowed. Sharp and Kronos grab for me immediately, pinning me in place.
“Careful with that head,” the vet says. “She’s not going anywhere in here.”
My mates let me go a little, at his bidding, and I immediately jump into the nearby sink, which is big and deep enough for me to sort of hide in it.
“See?” the vet says, reaching for me quite calmly, his hand clasping the back of my neck very firmly, the other arm wrapping around my waist and snugging me up and out of the sink and back onto the table.
“Now you stay,” he says. “This won’t hurt at all, I promise.”
I wasn’t worried about it hurting before, but I sort of am now.
“If it hurts, I’ll make you hurt,” I promise.
“Alright. I’m going to check her mental state, and give her a few scans,” he says. “If the room feels overcrowded, you can leave us to it.”