Page 1 of A Day as My Alien’s Pet

Chapter 1. Lucca

I stirred against my favorite blanket, the one that smelled like O'li's botanical workshop. The metal walls of my crate were always the first thing I saw in the morning. My body knew it was time to wake, some internal clock that had learned O'li's routine over the years since he'd brought me home. Four years ago, actually, and I still couldn't believe how fast time had passed.

The crate wasn't uncomfortable. O'li had made sure of that. Soft padding covered the floor, and I had my collection of comfort items arranged just how I liked them: my pillows and blanket. The stuffed creature O'li had given me on my first night here was tucked under my arm, worn soft from countless nights of clutching it close. It was a green blob with two buttons for eyes, the most adorable blob. Above me, the small lights in the ceiling glowed a gentle blue, the color O'li had programmed to help me sleep. They'd shift to warm amber soon, another signal that morning had arrived.

I heard his footsteps, the ones that carried his almost seven-foot frame. My heart did that little skip it always did when I knew he was coming for me. The drowsiness began to lift. The footsteps stopped just outside my crate. I could see his shadow through the gaps in the door, and I pressed my face against the cool metal, trying to catch a glimpse of him. Then came the soft click of the latch. The door swung open.

"Good morning, pup."

O'li's voice was so warm. My eyes found his emerald ones. They were already focused on me in that way that made me feel like the most important thing in his world. His skin was blue, and although he was an alien, so different from my human frame, I still thought he was the most delightful thing in the universe.

"Morning, Daddy," I mumbled, my voice rough from sleep.

I crawled forward on hands and knees, emerging from the crate. My muscles protested slightly. I always curled up tight when I slept, making myself as small as possible in the confined space, even though I didn't need to; it just felt cozier. I pressed myself against O'li's leg, nuzzling into the fabric of his sleep pants.

He was so warm, so solid. My arms wrapped around his calf as far as they could, and I rubbed my cheek against him. His hand came down to rest on my head, those fingers threading through my messy hair.

"Still sleepy, little one?" His tone told me he was pleased, maybe amused. I nodded against his leg, not quite ready to form more words yet. He let me stay there for a moment, his hand moving in slow strokes from the crown of my head down to my neck. "Come on," he said eventually, his hand shifting to cup the back of my neck, not forceful, just guiding. "Let's get you cleaned up."

I reluctantly released his leg and stood, immediately aware of how small I was beside him. My head barely reached his chin, and I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. He led me to the washing station he'd installed at my height, his hand still warm on my neck. The basin was already filled with warm water; he must have prepared it before waking me. He thought about me, planned for me, even in these tiny ways. I was the luckiest pup in the world!

"Arms up," he instructed, and I complied, letting him pull my sleep shirt over my head. He guided my hands to the edge of the basin, then reached around me to cup water in his large, six-fingered hands. The first splash against my face made me sputter slightly, earning one of those sounds that passed for his laughter.

"Too cold?" he asked, though we both knew it wasn't.

"It's perfect," I said, my voice becoming clearer as the water washed away the last cobwebs of sleep. His hands were gentle as they worked over my face, careful around my eyes. When he was satisfied, he reached for the hairbrush. This was my favorite part. He sectioned my hair, working through each tangle with infinite patience. The bristles scraped pleasantly against my scalp, and I found myself leaning back into his touch. I had long, dark hair that fell to my shoulders. His was short and black too, his horns rising above it.

"Someone's waking up," he observed, and I could hear the smile in his voice even if I couldn't see it.

"Your fault," I mumbled, then added quickly, "I mean, thank you, Daddy."

"Better," he said, though his tone remained warm. One hand came to rest on my shoulder while the other continued brushing. "What shall we do today, little star?"

The pet name made me practically glow. "Can we work in your lab? I promise I'll be careful."

"We'll see how the morning goes," he said, which wasn't a no. His hand squeezed the back of my neck gently. "There, all done. My handsome pup."

I turned to face him, having to look up and up to meet his eyes. My hands reached for him without thinking, and he allowed me to grip the fabric of his shirt, anchoring myself to him. We didn’t put my clothes back on. We had something important to do first.

"Thank you for taking care of me," I said, the words coming out more serious than I'd intended.

His expression softened, and one large hand came to cup my cheek. His thumb, longer than any human thumb, stroked across my cheekbone. "Always, little one. Always."

Chapter 2. O'li

My thumb lingered on his cheekbone a moment longer than necessary. His skin was still warm and slightly damp from washing, and he leaned into my palm.

"Time for your milking, pup," I said.

His entire body changed. His fingers tightened in my shirt, and he made a little sound. An eager sound. He was always eager for this part.

I smoothed my hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, found the collar there, and guided him toward the alcove beside the main room.

The milking chair had been installed the week I brought him home, built to human proportions rather than mine. Curved synthetic wood supported a padded seat and backrest. Leather restraints waited at the wrists, above the knees, and around the ankles.

I lifted him onto the seat and settled him against the backrest.

"Wrists."