Collared – A Psycho Sunshine Alien Pet Romance Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 51862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
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“The humans have brought large stores of an unidentified protein,” Kahn says. “I thought we had all types of human foods catalogued in the ship’s systems, but this is something else. Something unknown. Is there an animal local to their region that cannot be found elsewhere?”

“It is an exotic meat,” I say, privately enjoying Kahn’s innocence. It will be a true pleasure to reveal this little human darkness.

“What is it?”

“Wrathelder,” I say bluntly. “They’re eating the very soldiers who tried to abduct them. I killed them all, and after we landed, the humans took the bodies and began turning them into food and raw materials.”

Kahn’s expression is blank for a second before devolving into slow horror. “They’re eating us?”

“Well, not us.”

“We can’t let them eat us!”

“I don’t think we should let them eat us,” I say.

“But they have a taste for Euphorian flesh now! Every single one of them is a danger.”

“Every single one of them was always a danger. This is why we are trying to stop them coming in great numbers.”

“I’m going to talk to Arkan,” Kahn says, which is what he always says when he disagrees with me.

Emily

I am beginning to feel better about being on the ship in general when a tap at the door of Zain’s rooms gets my attention. I was occupied reading one of my grandmother’s old recipe books, trying to familiarize myself with home once again. It feels as though I am starting to lose connection with Hallow Ground, and with the bones of my ancestors. I never knew how important place was, until it was replaced with space.

I’m surprised to discover Jen leaning against the wall outside the door. Her bright pink hair is tossed to one side, she is wearing a bright pink collar to match, along with a black bustier, tight pants, and boots that come all the way up to her knees. She is so pretty that for a moment I stammer awkwardly.

“H.. hey… can I help you?”

“I’m bored,” she says, as if that explains anything. “And I was wondering if you were interested in playing dress ups?”

“You mean like children do?”

She gives me a reckless smile. “Maybe more like a makeover. You’re actually super cute, and Arkan gets me all the clothes I want. Looks like you’ve been stuck in those for a while.”

I look down at myself. She’s right. My clothes have never been very fancy or impressive, but now they look straight up ragged. I did not have time to grab a change of clothing when we evacuated. I took my medicinal supplies in case the villagers were in need of my help, but I didn’t take clothes at all.

Zain hasn’t noticed, I don’t think. He’s not the sort of guy to notice what I’m wearing. He’s usually too busy taking it off, and what I gather was a long imprisonment has made him entirely disinterested in superficial appearances.

Jen is being nice to me, I realize. She’s trying to offer me something nobody else on this ship can or will.

“Thank you,” I say. “That sounds really nice.”

Jen claps her hands in glee.

“Yes! I can’t wait! I’m so glad to have another human in the family, and you’re hot. You’re going to look so good Zain is going to lose his fucking mind.”

Jen’s clothing all has a very particular aesthetic. She tends toward tight leather and strappy stuff. It looks so good on her, but I know I am too modest to ever wear something that exposes so much of my body to the universe. While she picks out things for me to wear, she chats about her life on the ship. I listen, even as I comply with some of the more dubious selections.

“This ship has so much cool stuff on it. There’s even a recording function. You can record yourself and play it back through the ship’s speakers. I think it was designed to be for announcements and things, if the ship was being used for commercial stuff, I guess? But I like to make little recordings to mess with Arkan. I made one that called his name from different parts of the ship and sent him on a goose chase. It was hilarious until he caught me. Then it was just hot. So hot,” she says.

I look at myself in the mirror, seeing all the parts of me I usually try to hide. The softness, the roundness, the general me-ness of it all, trussed up in space age materials that emphasize every curve.

“It is nice,” I say, not wanting to insult her. “But maybe I could wear, I don’t know… more?”

“I’ve got a jacket,” she says, picking up a leather-look bomber jacket with little studs on the collar. It’s black, naturally. She hands it to me, and the moment I put it on, I feel fucking cool.


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