The Alien's Pet by Loki Renard Read Free Online

  The Alien'due south Pet

By

Loki Renard

Copyright © 2022 by Stormy Nighttime Publications and Loki Renard

Copyright © 2022 by Stormy Nighttime Publications and Loki Renard

All rights reserved. No function of this volume may exist reproduced or transmitted in whatsoever form or past any ways, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval arrangement, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Stormy Night Publications and Pattern, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Renard, Loki

The Alien's Pet

Cover Pattern by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by 123RF/Andrey Guryanov and Bigstock/style-photographs

This volume is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies merely, intended for adults.

Chapter I

Furious yapping woke Serena Spiers from restless slumber. She opened her eyes to run across the shadowy form of her black Chihuahua scratching at the sleeping room door furiously, niggling paws scrabbling with all the canine fury that was his to muster.

"Pogo! Quit information technology!"

He ignored her. She switched the bedside calorie-free on and saw that every scrap of fur on his back was erect. Any was bothering him, he wasn't going to let it go.

With an irritated sigh, the 20-four-twelvemonth-erstwhile veterinarian threw back the covers and crossed over to her bedroom door. Pogo's yaps increased in excited, ear-splitting intensity every bit she opened it—and then he was gone. She could hear the borer of his tiny nails on the wood floor as he rushed from her bedchamber, down the stairs, to the door that led to the clinic.

Wiping sleep from her eyes, Serena scuffed out of the bedroom and followed the yapping dog.

"At that place meliorate be a existent adept reason for this, Pogo," she yawned every bit she reached the lesser stair.

Pogo stood dorsum, round eyes stock-still on the door handle as he permit out intermittently piercing shrieks of canine anger. In that location was light coming from all around the surgery door. Odd. She was certain she'd turned everything off before going upstairs to the apartment in a higher place the business.

Serena crept upwards to the door and nudged it open ever so slightly, listening between the gaps in Pogo's barks. There was a shuffling audio, which was fairly ominous given there were no animals spending the dark. Something was definitely in there.

Pogo didn't waste product time with timid inquiries. He let out a furious howl and rushed total-tilt into the surgery. She heard his paws skidding on the linoleum as he came to what must have been a very abrupt halt out of sight, and so a high-pitched yelp.

Less than a second after he had entered the room, he came rocketing out and headed up the stairs at high speed. She knew where he'd be going: to the dorsum of the closet where he dragged his bed every time she done it. It was his safe spot, a place where he retired whenever the world became too overwhelming. Whatsoever was in the surgery was evidently far too much for his five-pound frame to handle.

Expecting a raccoon, Serena picked upwardly a broom and made her mode in. Her dispensary was in a remote part of the county. Being a country vet meant that her clients were spread out all over the rural area. At that place wasn't another firm for fifty miles, and the nearest town was half a day away. Farmlands and woods made up the environment of her idyllic piddling world, so whenever something went awry, a critter of some kind was usually at fault.

She pushed her manner into the room, broom held out in front of her to ward off whatever hirsuite interloper had fabricated its way into the clinic. She really needed to remember to start locking the doors properly, but information technology was hard to remember when the just people in the area were friends.

Serena took one step into the room, stopped and stared. In that location was no raccoon. There was a very large, very naked man in her dispensary, sitting at her operating tabular array with a wide array of her suturing supplies spread out around him.

Her initial fasten of alarm at seeing a naked stranger was somewhat mitigated when she saw that he was wounded. He had a gash in his forearm nearly vi inches long, which he was awkwardly attempting to run up with his other mitt.

He ignored her equally she entered the room, giving her ample time to stand up in that location and stare.

"Tin I, uh, help yous?" Serena finally establish her tongue.

He lifted his caput and looked at her. In an instant, the illusion of normality, as stretched and frayed every bit information technology had been, tore completely. His eyes were golden. Not brightly colored similar contact lenses, just a solid gold, which she somehow knew was as organic as information technology was foreign.

His features were foreign too. He had a broad, strong jaw, very loftier cheekbones, and a straight, long nose. His face up was framed by thick dark pilus that vicious about to his shoulders. His brows were wide and sloping, his eyes set a lilliputian deeper than virtually. She could take cut herself on his cheekbones, the hard handsome slabs somehow powerful. Either he was cold, or the fluorescent lights were on the fritz once again, because in that location was only the faintest hue of blueish almost his pare. Information technology was the oddest thing. He appeared almost completely normal, but somewhere around the edges of her consciousness there was something that made the little hairs on the back of her cervix stand up and bristle just like Pogo's hackles.

"Come here," he said in deep, resonant tones. "Suture me."

Serena blinked and shook her head. There was no mistaking it. She had been given an order. Weirder and weirder. Almost injured men with the sort of lacerations this one was sporting would have been damn virtually crying. He wasn't even wincing equally he pushed the needle through his flesh. He was completely calm, completely in control, and completely unapologetic for having invaded her business and home.

"I'thousand going to call for an ambulance," she said, notwithstanding holding her broom in forepart of her. "Stay there."

"Come up. Hither."

The words sank into her mind in a way mere words normally could not. She felt his will somehow within her, his want superseding her fear. It was the strangest matter, to notice herself not turning and running upstairs for her phone, but actually approaching him.

As she got closer she realized that he was even taller than she'd first idea, and broader too. His legs were stretched out under the tabular array, thick muscular limbs seeming to get on forever. His broad, equally muscular torso was covered in bruises and grazes and he was suffering with several lacerations on his dorsum and shoulders.

She stopped about a human foot abroad from him and bent over to peer at the wound on his arm. "Were you in a car accident? Why are you lot naked?"

He put the needle and thread downward, letting the manus of his uninjured arm slide from the table and sweep through the air. Information technology connected with her pajama-clad rear in a difficult slap that lifted her not merely off her toes, simply propelled her a step forward.

"I said, suture me, daughter," he said chidingly. "Not question me."

Serena clasped her stinging ass, her rima oris falling open up in shock. "You tin can't hit me and tell me to assistance you!"

"Yous're ill-behaved," he said, frowning equally if she had disappointed him in some way. "You lot have not been trained well. Or at all." Those gilded optics swept up and down her pajama-clad torso, taking stock of every inch of her.

"Who the hell are y'all?" She stood back and scowled at him furiously, quite shocked at his behavior. It was ane thing to accept her clinic broken into, her supplies stolen. Something else entirely to have her rear smacked and her carry chastised.

"My name is Zed," he said. "I don't have time to train you, so please, if you would, suture these wounds. I don't desire them healing badly. At that place's not much time before they brainstorm to set."

The mention of his wounds took her attention off her own stinging rear. In that location was no doubt that whoever this guy was, he was a prize jerk, b

ut he was wounded and her instinct was to care for him.

"Keep your easily to yourself," she said. "Or I won't help you lot and I volition telephone call the police force. Whatever you lot've been up to, information technology'due south manifestly no expert."

He flashed her a broad grin and she recoiled. For one shocking second, she saw his teeth flashing bright white, his canines sharp, more similar a wolf than a homo. She looked over again and realized she was existence featherbrained. They weren't that precipitous; they were maybe a little pronounced but they weren't that odd. She was letting her sleepy brain run away with her.

As she moved closer to him once again, she became enlightened of his scent. He smelled incredible, though she couldn't quite identify what he must take been wearing considering no homo smelled that good. He should have been stinking of dirt and sweat given his clearly dilapidated condition, only instead there was a richness to his scent that made her want to inhale deeply.

"Quickly, girl," he said, insistence and command in his tone.

He spoke with the oddest emphasis. "Where are y'all from?" She picked up the needle and threaded fresh suture thread through it. "Australia?"

"Australia? No."

He watched equally she unclipped the relatively clumsy stitches he'd already put in, then began to make her own. Once she started working, her skilful mind took over. She moved swiftly, stitching his wounds, which she couldn't aid just observe were already incredibly make clean. His flesh was thick and dense, taking the stitches well.

"So," she said conversationally. "Where are your clothes?"

"My armor was damaged in the crash. I had to remove it to avoid being burned."

"Oh, aye…" She almost carried on the conversation as if he hadn't said anything of interest at all. But something in her encephalon clicked as she replayed the judgement in her head.

"Your… armor…" She glanced up at him, met those golden eyes, and felt that prickling tingling sensation as every hair on her torso stood erect. She looked back down at the wound she was stitching and noticed properly for the first time what she should have noticed correct away: he wasn't bleeding. He should have been covered in blood, but in that location was none, only a vaguely reddish simply much too sparse liquid that she'd first mistaken for claret, simply plainly wasn't.

Her mind snapped to a determination that she should have realized instantly upon coming together Zed. Some part of her no doubtfulness had, just the… matter sitting next to her clearly had some ability to influence her mind.

"You're… not human, are you?" Every part of her shook with a tremor of deep, central fright. "What the hell are you?"

"Relax." He gave the command smoothly, his voice seeming to enter her thoughts and play with the locks of her consciousness. "You have goose egg to fear. I will non damage you."

"What are you?" She repeated the question, throwing down the needle and suturing thread. "What the… hell are you?"

He caught her hands in his and held her tight, his eyes locking with hers. "I'yard simply a human being."

"You are not!"

"I'thousand non from here," he admitted. "At that place are a few things that make me a petty genetically different from you, only I am a human."

Serena started to hyperventilate. She was existence held by some man… no, some creature who was almost certainly not a human. An conflicting. That's what he was. That's what he had to be.

While she panicked, he gently pulled her close until they were nose to nose, centre to center.

"Heed to me," he said in deep, somnolent tones that were conspicuously designed to brand her feel relaxed and sleepy. "What yous've seen here today, you're going to forget it."

Serena could almost feel the neurons in her mind shifting polarity and identify to accommodate his need. It took every shred of mental command she had to keep her wits about her. Acrimony helped, an outrage at having her mind messed with. How cartel he suspension into her home, order her about, and then mess with her caput?

"No!" She shouted the discussion at him. "No! I know yous're here, and I know what you are, and I'm non going to forget. You lot are not going to hypnotize me out of my ain memories, yous… you wiggle!"

He took her defiance in step. "What is your name, girl?"

"Serena," she said. "My name is Serena."

"Serena," he said, his voice taking on that deep, resonant tone again. "Information technology's for the best that you forget. I shouldn't exist here, and you won't exist safe if everyone finds out I was here. Allow your mind flow with mine."

"No," she scowled.

"No? Oh, Serena, you are particularly potent-willed," he noted in tones of displeasure. "You're going to be difficult to bargain with, aren't you?"

She stared at him with broad eyes, alarm bells of fright ringing harshly in her head. He was property her with impossible forcefulness, putting about no pressure level on her flesh, but not allowing her to motility an inch.

"I'm helping you," she said. "It's not too much to enquire that you leave my brains unscrambled in return, is it?"

His lips twisted in a boring smile as he released her gently. "Perhaps not. Y'all may proceed."

How generous of him, to let her to go on helping him with her mind intact. Serena picked upward the needle again and frowned at his wounds. "How did these happen, exactly?"

"It'southward better for both of us that I do non reply that question."

Serena shot Zed an annoyed await, and so wished she hadn't as her eyes one time more met his golden orbs and she felt an all-over trunk tingle at existence in the presence of something more human. It reminded of her of a time she had been called to a individual zoo to tend to a lion. Although information technology had been sedated, she had felt a great deal of awe when working on the beast that was so very much more powerful than she could ever hope to have been, and and so strange, even alien in its ain way. Information technology was a similar awareness being next to Zed—simply very much heightened, because he was awake and though he was wounded, she had no doubt that he could inflict serious damage upon her both mentally and physically if he so desired.

While she thought, her fingers were moving, doing their work. She practical the final sew together and stood back to check that she had non missed any of the deep lacerations. The focus that she had been applying to the task of stitching him together prodigal, allowing her to capeesh his naked course for the fraction of a second in which information technology felt advisable to exercise and then. What shreds of professionalism remained told her that it would not do to leer at his muscular torso. Information technology would certainly not exist acceptable to lean over and await at the portion of his manly form subconscious beneath the border of the table, although she couldn't help but glance…

He was incredibly attractive, and the little peek she could not help but take seemed to point that he was fully anatomically correct too.

"Is there some other part of me you would like to examine?"

His deep, thoroughly amused timbre made her chroma furiously.

"No," she lied. "I was just seeing if y'all take any other wounds to attend to."

"I retrieve you lot have sutured everything that needs to be sutured. Thank you for your help. You take been exceedingly kind."

He spoke English with a sure formality that didn't quite fit with any particular era or place, merely that put Serena in mind of a Victorian gentleman. There was a refined quality to Zed, quite in dissimilarity to his massive body and naked muscularity. She constitute her eyes drawn to his confront, where the mane of dark hair framed his gilded gaze. The epitome of the lion came floating dorsum. If she was to stay safe, she had to exercise what she had done with that bang-up beast.

"You need an antibiotic shot," she said. "In that location'south no telling what organisms might have entered your system."

When Zed did not disagree with her, she went to a cabinet, took out a syringe and a vial of sedative. Maintaining her professional demeanor, she moved around to the side of him and swabbed a patch on the inside of his arm. Simply every bit she would look in a human, there was a vein prominent within his elbow, puzzling her slightly. Some of his physiology seemed so very human. She was deeply curious nigh him,

only her fear overrode her curiosity.

"This may sting a little," she warned.

Zed allow out a rumble that might have been a laugh. "I have borne more pain than your piffling needle tin deliver, Serena."

Nodding, Serena inserted the needle and depressed the plunger, sinking enough tranquilizer into him to downwards an elephant. Equally the drug slid into his organization, she felt mildly guilty. There was no existent way of telling if information technology would knock him out or impale him. She desperately hoped it would not kill him. His respiratory system seemed strong and he was almost certainly stronger in constitution than the average person.

Suddenly, Zed let out a growl, swatted her mitt away, and tossed the syringe across the room.

"What was in that?" His optics locked on hers and she felt his fury. She didn't really blame him for being angry. The drug rushing through his bloodstream, or whatever passed for a bloodstream, was powerful in humans, and information technology seemed, aliens too.

"Information technology's a sedative," she told him honestly. "Information technology's not a poisonous substance and it won't have whatever long-lasting result."

"You've fabricated a terrible mistake," Zed said as his eyelids began to lower involuntarily. "If anyone discovers me, lives volition be lost. If in that location's an antidote, you must requite it to me."

"Time is the but antidote," she informed him. "Don't worry, y'all'll be perfectly safe here."

Zed slumped confronting her operating tabular array, his massive muscular frame going quite limp. In the silence that followed, Serena was all of a sudden struck by his vulnerability. He was a very long way from home, completely unconscious, and covered in deep scars.

She took his pulse, finding it slow and steady. So she lifted his eyelid and did a pupil reaction test with a penlight. His dark pupils retracted to angry little dots, just equally they were supposed to. He was unconscious, but he could still make her quake.

Moving quickly, she ran for a length of soft hemp rope. He needed to be restrained for his own adept, she told herself. He needed to be kept safe, and in the animal world, safe meant behind confined or otherwise bound.

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