The Human Pet: A Sci-Fi Romance

Part 12

Tarak

My poor pet. She naively touched my atums, and I must bind them. Between her too-loud heartbeat and her shaking, it is obvious that I've scared her.

If only I could explain to her their significance. Atums are selfish, always doing what is best for them and acting with a mind of their own. Also, touching a scourge's atum is dangerous, arousing both the atum and the scourge alike. That's why scourges keep them covered and bound. Can you imagine what the world would be like if our atums could do whatever they wanted? Scourges would never get anything done.

I hold her in my arms and try to soothe her by petting her when my wall unit chimes, indicating the arrival of my Zon delivery. I need to retrieve my order immediately because my fellow scourges cannot be trusted; they would steal anything left out in the hallway, even if it belongs to a respected commander.

I pat my pet on the head, leaving her in the pool while I go to my door.

Only after the Zon delivery bot rolls into my quarters do I see the likely mistake. The bot's cart has the bags of pet pellets that I ordered, but strange cartons are also in the cart.

"What is this?" I growl, poking at one of the cartons with the squishy bright-colored balls.

The Zon bot's disc-like red, luminous eyes blink at me. Those eyes always remind me of the gigantic rodents that roam the swamps of Cerberus, reflecting red when we hunted them at dusk, so it is only natural to want to rip the bot's eyes off. Breaking a Zon robot can jeopardize my right to receive future deliveries, so...

I sniff the carton of squishy balls. The balls have a sickly, sweet scent.

The bot flicks its metal fingers, projecting a larger hologram that hovers in the air. In an unnatural synthetic voice, the bot asks, "Is this your order?"

I point at the green checkmark right next to the pet pellets and count my four bags. "Yes, these are my bags of pet pellets."

The bot's metal finger flicks again, enlarging the hologram and tapping at another green checkmark next to those colorful balls.

"You also ordered these berries from Halazone."

Is it the berries that are responsible for the disgustingly sweet stench permeating the air and making me want to sneeze? "This appears to be rodent food. I do not have a rodent, so why would I order these?"

The bot's head, attached to a long metal tube, raises until we are eye-to-eye. "Do you want to cancel your order and return the berries and pet pellets to the Halazone storage facility?"

I barely had time to wrap a towel around my midsection before answering the door, so water drips from me. I just want my simple order of pet pellets. Why must these bots make things so difficult?

"Cancel the berries but leave the pet pellets."

Those red eyes flash at me. "The berries can no longer be returned."

I growl, huffing on its ridiculous metal face. "What?!"

"Contamination," said the bot, pointing its finger at my pet.

Towels are wrapped around her body and her hair. She grabs a handful of berries out of the carton and stuffs one straight into her mouth.

"So good."

What interests me is not her vocalizations, but the fact she is eagerly eating food straight from the packaging. Seeing her eat makes me feel warm. Finally, I am providing for my pet.

I carry the Zon bot to the hallway outside my quarters and place it on the floor. I pat the bot on the head. "Good Zon bot. Next time, bring more berries."

Before the bot has a chance to answer, I re-enter my quarters and turn my fist counterclockwise, slamming my door shut.

My pet is still eating those berries straight from the carton. I am amazed at the fact these were delivered for her. The wise, all-knowing Zon must have placed this order.

I place the food packages in the wall storage areas. It is when I pry away the last berry carton from my pet's fingers and search for a space to store it between all my snacks, that I notice her eyes. She stares intently at the carton in my hands and licks her lips.

My poor pet must be hungry. How can I be so neglectful? Time to properly feed my pet.

I hold the carton of berries over her bowl. "Kata."

My pet silently pads to a spot on the floor near me, gazing at me with her large green eyes. Blue pulp from the berries is smeared on her cheek.

I clench the berry box, suddenly recognizing this situation for what it is. I have no doubt she will eat these berries. I am her owner, though, and I have needs too. I have a caring kink and one of my greatest joys is feeding others.

"Do you want this, pet?" I say, showing her the box, and dropping a berry into the bowl.

When I step away, her hand dives into the bowl, immediately stuffing the berry into her mouth.

I carry the box of berries around the room. I'm attuned to her, listening to the thrums of her slow, strong pulse. My pet is aware of me, too; I can feel her eyes on me, watching my every move.

"We're going to play a game, pet," I say, as I sit down on my chair. I place a few of those bright blue pieces of fruit on my knees and I feign disinterest, gazing at the wall unit.

She comes closer, crouching nearby. It takes a while, but a fluttering hand snatches the berries.

I need her to get more comfortable with our game, so we go a few more rounds. Before I know it, there is barely any gap in time between my placing the berry down and her snatching them with her grabby hands.

"Those were easy, pet. Let's make the game more challenging."

She'll need to work harder for the next berries. I place a few of them on my shoulders and then I play my game of disinterest, gazing off at my wall unit.

It takes a lot for me not to look at her, but before I know it there's a weight in my lap as she crawls into it. Her nimble fingers snatch the fruit from my shoulders. She doesn't leave, staying in my lap while she eats her prize.

So, my smart pet has figured out the rules of this game.

I hold the next few berries between my fingers, and I keep them high up near my face. Her pupils are blown and locked on those berries.

She studies the berries but does not move.

I wait.

She must either be hungry or like these berries a lot because she crawls from my lap and onto my chest. She tugs, trying to get the berry from me. I don't let go, so she lays across my chest, putting her lips around my fingers and sucking.

Her tongue and her lips nip at the fruit, tickling my fingertips. She didn't need my help to eat them—I could have put them in a bowl, but I need this. It's like a string connecting us; her with need and me providing for her.

This is how I feed her, berry by berry until the carton is empty. Sticky juice coats my fingers, and the sugary sweet scent of the berries fills the room.

By the simple act of feeding her, I have taken care of my pet. My mind is fuzzy. Is this what a pet can do for a scourge? Settle my thoughts? Make me feel warm inside? All these new feelings, just from caring for a little pet.

This must be doing something for her too because she leans against my chest and her eyes fall shut. She stays in my arms, trusting and pliant when I carry her back to the pool to clean up all the fruit juice.