The Alien King's Pet: An Alien Abduction Romance (Royal Aliens)

  The Alien King’s Pet

  Royal Aliens

  Loki Renard

  Copyright © 2021 by Loki Renard

  www.badgirlbooks.com

  Cover images via depositphotos.com

  @ vova130555

  @ Ravven

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Talking To Strangers

  2. A Pet Is For Life

  3. Fucking Flying

  4. Wormhole With Fries

  5. Crimes and Conversations

  6. Dirty Discipline

  7. The Burger Bribe

  8. The Power of Pity

  9. Oh No

  10. Consequencelessness

  11. Missing Katie

  12. And It Was Called Yellow

  13. Sick

  14. The Prodigal Brat

  15. Wanna Be Sedated?

  16. Weird Biology

  17. Love Hurts

  18. Flying Fuck

  Epilogue

  1 Talking To Strangers

  “I will have you my way, pet. There is no escaping your destiny, and so there is no escaping me.”

  “I…”

  “Enough of your insolence!”

  An alien hand gripped her by the throat as an equally alien appendage prepared to slide inside the tight channel she had guarded in place of true virtue all her life. A girl could be many things, but as long as she had that little piece of skin intact inside her, she could claim virginity, and therefore purity, and therefore she was a good girl, even if everything else she did was very, very bad.

  Did virginity mean anything to an alien king, besides something to be claimed and destroyed as quickly as possible? Was it worth even trying to beg to preserve her purity? Or was innocence something that could not exist in the same space as this alien tyrant?

  She felt the collar tighten, making her breath catch in her throat as she prepared for the inevitable. Ultimately vulnerable, she stared into the dark abyss of the alien king’s gaze. There was nothing human about this massive, winged creature who had claimed her.

  He’d picked her out of the crowd. He could have chosen anyone on their way to work. But he’d chosen her. Fate? Bad luck? She didn’t know what to blame, besides the alien king himself. He was a beastly brute who had turned her rear red for disobedience, and was now intent on making every inch of her body his.

  That. Ass. That had started it all.

  When he’d first seen it, it was clad in a tight, stretchy polyester-spandex blend, two earth materials which did absolutely sinful things to a woman’s hindquarters. Across a street, down a block, in the midst of a throng of humans all walking and shouting and bumping into one another, those round globes called to him. They belonged to a young human woman who seemed unaware of the intergalactic impact her posterior was going to have on her life.

  Dominax had not belonged on that planet, unimaginatively called Earth by its inhabitants on account of being made in large part, of earth. He had been drawn there by animal lust, and amply rewarded simply by the sight of the female destined to be his.

  As alien royalty on a distant world, out of space and out of time, he had been entranced by so many things on the planet of the humans. But nothing had drawn his attention, captured his imagination, and sparked his desire the way that portion of anatomy did.

  Now he had her beneath him, writhing in a way only human hips could. Every time he slapped her skin, it colored beautifully, and her hips performed a gyration which invited further torment. The beautiful globes of her cheeks were crimson red with the consequences of her actions and the heat of his desire.

  The human was beautiful, but she was also mouthy and exceptionally disobedient. Dominax did not like to be defied, and certainly not disobeyed, but there could be no denying that the aftermath of a well-deserved punishment was a sight to behold. The way her skin shifted in hue and texture was of great interest to the king, who had seen the same patch of sweet flesh turn from smooth pale ivory to bright red via subsequent and repeated application of his palm.

  “Ow!” She let out a gasp of complaint as he laid his hand over her rear again in a sharp slap which brought a fresh flush of color to her cheeks.

  “You could have avoided this by choosing obedience,” he informed his captive human.

  “I could have avoided this by avoiding you,” she snarked back.

  There had never been any avoiding him. Dominax knew this wild little human belonged to him as surely as he knew anything. She was on his planet now. She was in his control. And soon she would spread those pretty thighs for him and beg him to plunge inside her for the final and ultimate conquest of body and will.

  An undetermined number of hours earlier…

  Katie was not in the mood to go to work.

  She was not in the mood for burgers, grease, and customers who yelled over nothing. But she had to go to work, because nobody else was going to pay her rent, were they?

  There was a guy in the corner of the subway sniffing repeatedly to himself, wiping his nose on his hand, and then touching the pole and seat. It made her shudder. She sent up a silent prayer that they wouldn’t get held up in one of the frequent stoppages which had claimed months of her life in the short time she’d been living in the city.

  The subway came to a halt, doors opening to release a slew of humanity out, before carrying on with a fresh batch. Katie pushed through the crowd and the crowd pushed back, just a big wall of people with scrunched up faces looking perpetually pissed off.

  She caught a glimpse of her face in the reflection of a metal strip running vertically up the corner of a wall to stop people from breaking the tile off the wall. She looked exactly the same as everybody else. Tense, irritable, and un-fucking-happy to be there.

  Katie came up out of the subway and started picking her way through the crowd. It was almost time for the lunch rush, and that meant Michael was probably going to fire her if she didn’t get to work, like, now. But the place was still six blocks away, and she wasn’t going to run.

  Setting out on the walk, she looked around for any kind of distraction she might be able to use as an excuse for not being there on time. Sure enough, she found one.

  There was a weird guy standing on a street corner. That, in itself, was not unusual. This was New York. The streets were packed with weird guys and girls. This one was sightly weirder than most, because he had red skin and huge wings coming out from his shoulders. He was probably advertising that tv show about the guy who was not so secretly the devil. Or some movie where some guy was the devil. Or something with superheroes. Superheroes were so in right now.

  Shit. She’d made eye contact. That was always a mistake. His eyes locked on her, black and hollow. Contacts, probably. But she still felt a primordial chill running down her spine as a result of making contact with something so very alien.

  She looked away, but couldn't help herself and looked back again. She was getting closer with every step, and the closer she got, the weirder and more incredible he looked.

  He was shirtless, which was impressive for a cool fall day which would have made her nipples turn to ice daggers if she had tried to take off her coat. He seemed unaffected by the cold, though there was no doubt that his nipples were impressive, as was the rest of his muscular torso. Her steps slowed as she got closer.

>   His costume was actually pretty cool. His hair was a fascinating raven blue, and the wings almost looked real. He had them tucked up really tight, almost like he was trying to hide them. He was hot too, in a kind of football jock sort of way. Looked like he could have been a quarterback in high school. He had the broad shoulders, narrow hips, and muscular plane along his abdomen, of which she could see every inch because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was tattooed across his arms and part of his chest, a bunch of inked symbols she wasn’t familiar with, but probably had some meaning to him. So this was what happened to frat boys who grew up, took shrooms, and decided to follow their passion for theater.

  Again, she slowed down as she got closer, as if she couldn’t quite stand the idea of walking past him and never seeing him again. There was something quietly spectacular about him. Something almost otherworldly.

  His face was… well, like a male model. There were a lot of male models in the city, brooding, angular types with low body fat. This guy had a different take on the vibe. He had narrowed eyes under dark brows, a square jaw, and the sort of intensity in his gaze which hit her like a bolt of lightning, shooting down her spine and making her toes curl.

  So what was he doing? Some kinda movie promotion? Maybe a video game? Had he been lost from a flash mob? Everything about his appearance should have screamed LOOK AT ME. Instead, it seemed almost as though he was trying to blend in and not be noticed. Usually the shirtless muscular guys with the massive wings and blue-black hair were trying to stand out.

  She walked past him, unable to spare another second. She had to get to work. Whatever this moment was, whatever magic might have been in it, was over. There was no room for the strange or outré when there were fries to get in the fryer.

  There was a brief moment of something like depression, a little ache inside her, a yearning for something that never was…

  A hand snatched at her through the crowd, pulling her out of the flow of people who barely seemed to notice, and absolutely did not care that a young lady had just been yanked at by a strange man.

  “Hey! What the fuck you think you’re doing!?” She looked up at the guy with the wings, and felt her heart skip a beat. He’d found her. The thought didn’t make sense, but that didn’t stop her from having it.

  “Human. I require your assistance.”

  He was really weird. But he had a really hot voice. There were lots of good looking men in the world, but there weren’t nearly as many hot guys with hot voices to match, deep and gravelly and commanding all at the same time. It did not sound like the voice of a lost cosplayer, and yet it was almost certainly coming out of one.

  “You need to let go of me before I get the pepper spray out of my bag.”

  He released her arm. She should have hurried off immediately and gotten a cop to deal with the weirdo, but he gave her a look which made her take pity on him. He was like a big, red, massive, muscular, handsome, lost puppy.

  “What’s wrong? You lost or something? Can’t find the set you’re supposed to be on? Is there a conference somewhere?”

  “I have decided to take one of you for my own. You look pleasing.”

  She stared, perplexed.

  “Are you in character? I haven’t got time. I’m late for my shift and they dock pay, so…” she started to turn.

  “Do NOT walk away from me!”

  The ground seemed to shake with the bass of his voice, a timbre like none which had ever contacted her tender ears. She stopped moving and just stared at him, then around at the other people streaming by. They seemed unaffected by this strange man.

  Katie turned back, confused. He did not speak with anger, but with such intense gravitas it was as if she could not find it in herself to disobey him. It felt right to do as he said. In stark contrast, every time her supervisor, Michael, talked to her, it was all she could do not to soft serve him right in his face.

  He was looking at her with a kind of interest which she found unsettling and fascinating at the same time. She felt… wanted. In some strange and powerful way, he desired her. There was a carnal electricity between them, something Katie could almost taste.

  She didn’t understand why he seemed so taken with her. The uniform she was wearing didn’t flatter her figure. The tight ponytail under the logo emblazoned cap wasn’t exactly pretty either. As for her face, she always tried her best to slap on enough makeup to look presentable, but the acne caused by the oil from the fryers was not appealing, nor was the smell of grease which clung to her pretty much all the time.

  Was she flustered? She felt flustered. And hot. And suddenly she was having trouble standing still. The look in his eyes was enough to make her squirm all the way out of her black polyester-spandex pants.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”

  “I’m not scared. You’re just weird.”

  It was a defensive thing to call him weird. It kept him away from her. She already felt too close, too involved with this perfectly strange stranger.

  “Don’t go,” he said, in direct contradiction to her very obvious attempt to leave while retaining some semblance of sociability. She was well within her rights to start screaming and spraying, but she found her fingers unfurling from the pepper spray in her purse.

  “You are very beautiful.”

  “Uh. Thanks,” she said awkwardly. She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt flustered. Guys hit on her all the time. The uniform made her look accessible. She usually blew them off without much trouble. But there was something about the way this male said she was beautiful which made it all seem different.

  “I really have to go. I’m going to get fired if I’m late again. I’ve been late twice this week already, and…”

  “Fired?” he interrupted her. “They set you on fire for missing work? This is a harsh world.”

  “Uhh…” Did he really not know what she was talking about? He seemed genuinely perplexed. So she humored him. “They won’t set me on fire. They’ll deprive me of money so I lose my home, can’t feed myself, and starve in the gutter.”

  “That is worse than being set on fire.”

  “Yes. It is. So, anyway, bye.”

  “Don’t go,” he repeated, catching her wrist in his massive hand. “I think I will choose you. I should probably have sampled some of the others, but I think you will do.”

  “I will do?”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. But she couldn’t look away from him. He had animal charisma of the kind which made the rest of the world blur out to a general hum.

  “I think we should copulate.”

  “Uhhh… What now?”

  “Would you not enjoy copulation with me?”

  She stared at him. He was very, very handsome. Even as a virgin, she had the feeling she absolutely would enjoy copulation with him. But she also had a gut feeling that he would be very bad for her. Her online therapist had suggested that she made bad dating choices, maybe due to early abandonment trauma.

  It was hard to tease out whether he was very hot, and that’s why she was still talking to him, or if he was crazy and she was concerned for him, or if this was just the most interesting thing to happen in quite some time.

  “Maybe we could go on a date first?”

  “A date? You require an entire day of mating? Very good. I like an extended mating session.”

  “That’s, uh, not what I meant.”

  She looked at him more closely. Being near him made all the hair on the back of her neck stand up, not in a horror sort of way, but in a strange Van De Graaff generator sort of way. She was almost certain that if she put her hands on him, every single bit of hair on her body would start floating from the sheer electricity.

  His costume was really good. Definitely movie quality. And now that she really looked at it, it had to be bespoke. Maybe even homemade.

  “How long have you been doing cosplay?” She tried to change the subject. Not because she wasn’t interested, but because she was. Because she
was trying to get a sense of whether or not this guy was a secret serial killer. Netflix specials had taught her that you had to be careful about that. Also, people with tiger zoos.

  “Cosplay?”

  “Dressing up like this. Looking like you do.” She gestured at his wings. “All of this. A lot of hours must have gone into it.”

  “Oh yes, a very great many.” He looked around and nodded, as if he had come to a conclusion. “It is time we went, human. What do you call yourself?”

  “Katie.”

  “Kay-tee,” he repeated. “In my language, that refers to somebody with a very large… never mind.”

  He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Time slowed and then stopped. Birds hovered in the air, people paused mid-step, a jogger hovered an inch or so above the pavement.

  “What the…”

  “Come,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Leave this petty little world behind. Do not concern yourself with your job, or whatever an apartment might be. It sounds small.”

  “It is,” she mumbled, staring about herself in amazement. “How did you do that? How did you stop everything?”

  With the world standing still, she was suddenly able to perceive a myriad of details which would have otherwise been lost to her. Everybody she had gone out of her way to ignore, those who had been nothing but a general mash of humanity, they now seemed individually fascinating.

  “I didn’t. I stopped perception of time in a very limited radius. We should go. Things tend to explode if you don’t…

  BOOM!

  Somewhere in the distance, something turned orange and began to billow very slowly and strangely into the sky.

  “Yes, you see. We’re stressing space. Time to go.”