The Alien Matriarch's Pet

The betrayal seeped into my bones. I thought I came here to negotiate—to get started on whatever deal my company had struck with this cold species on this icy hellscape of a moon—but no. Instead, I became her pet. Now I’m standing in the middle of her throne room, cornered and furious, while she coolly inspects me from a distance.

I’m here because two weeks ago, my exploration ship picked up a moon on the outskirts of the Sigma Orionis system. The moon looked uninhabited—no cities, no signals—but rich chemical signatures suggesting mineral deposits beneath the surface. But when I brought my ship closer to run tests, an alien surveillance craft intercepted me. That’s when the negotiations started. My boss back home, the company’s lawyers, and the aliens on their end all chatted away while I hovered my ship close enough to the moon that I could get started on excavations if that’s how the deal shook out—it usually did. I believed we were close to a clean deal: a profit-sharing agreement if we extracted resources from the moon.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t privy to every conversation. I’m an explorer and a scientist, not a corporate stooge. I didn’t care much for the dry business meetings and never had. I figured someone else was handling the details. And it turns out they were, but the details weren’t quite what I expected. They sold me. The realization curdles in my stomach. I wasn’t a party to the deal—I was part of the price.

Strange noises pull me back into the room. That same low, rhythmic language between the guards flanking me and the alien on her throne. I’d been hearing this odd drone for around fifteen minutes as they talked back and forth, paying me no attention.

I look at her properly now. She’s taller than the guards, the only other members of her species I’ve seen so far. Seven feet, maybe eight. It’s hard to tell with her sitting, but even like this, she looks like she owns the room. Maybe she’s a queen or an empress or a warlord—I’m not sure. But she clearly outranks the other members of the room. Taller, muscular curves, with an opal glow to the skin covering her exoskeleton, contrasting with their dull grey.

Something cold brushes my shoulder and I flinch. A second later, I feel it coil around my waist. And then another, wrapping itself around the material on my legs, arms, and torso. I look to the guards doing this to me, but before I can react, the tendrils pull and my clothes tear away in strips.

“What the fuck?” I snap. No one responds.

I’m standing here naked and exposed. I quickly cover my breasts and pussy with my hands, looking from the guards to her in disbelief. Just who do they think they are? I’d met plenty of foreign species as part of my work but none so unconcerned about how I felt. There was always a nervous cordiality when making first contact with an alien species—a desire for both of you to prove you don’t have ill intentions, despite what your technologies say about your capabilities. "No no, these are tools and trinkets, not weapons and chains," we’d say without saying it—both sides trying to pretend this wasn’t about power.

But here there’s no pretending. She doesn’t care how I feel. She doesn’t care about diplomacy or appearances. I know this because while her obsidian eyes have wandered over my body, she hasn’t once looked at my face. She has all the power, the way a person has power over a stray they’ve already decided to keep.

The guards have retreated their tendrils now, standing with their heads bowed and leaving me standing alone. Somehow this feels worse. There’s nowhere to hide in this colossal room and I feel her eyes scanning me over and over. She says something to one of the guards and I steal a quick glance behind me. The door doesn’t look too complicated—some kind of pressure seal with a manual latch, or something like it. But even if I made it there, it’s probably coded to their biology or locked down the second I move.

Adrenaline hits and my hands shake. If I could get there quickly, I might be able to get outside. Then if I can hold my breath for long enough, I should be able to get back to my ship. Then it’ll just be a case of outrunning an entire alien fleet naked and unarmed. Easy.

Fuck it, I have to try. Like a frog in boiling water—I could stand here and let myself cook, or I could throw myself at the edge of the pot and hope I make it out.

I bolt. My bare feet slapping against the cold floor is deafening but I ignore all the noise, making an aim for the door. I’m almost there—just a few steps and the release panel will be within reach. If I can just get there—a sound cuts rings out behind me. That language again, but this time it sounds amused, almost like a laugh. Don’t lose focus. I don’t look back. I lunge for the panel—

And something slams around my waist. I’m yanked backward so fast the air leaves my lungs. My feet skid against the floor, scraping uselessly for traction. One strong arm locks beneath my breasts, and the other curls tight around my hips and pulls me close. Her body is solid and still behind me. I twist, thrashing on instinct, but it’s like trying to fight a steel beam. She barely moves.

She says something over my head to the guards in a calm voice. I watch them file out, eyes down until the last one slips through the door. It hisses shut behind them. She shifts her grip, tightening it at my waist until I freeze. We’re alone.

“You run well,” she whispers against my ear. “But not fast enough.” She lets go and walks back to her throne.

I storm after her. “Look. I don’t care what kind of deal you’ve made with my people, I am not an object to be sold or traded.”

She doesn’t turn around. Just keeps walking, her long strides stretching the space betwee us as I fight to keep up.

“Surely there’s something else you want. If you just let me leave—”

She sits, crossing one leg over the other as she watches me run toward her. I stop when I’m a few steps in front of her, breathless and sweating.

“There will be no leaving, and the sooner you come to terms with that, the quicker you’ll settle into your new life here.” Her black eyes bore into me.

I feel tears of frustration pricking my eyes. “Please. I’m not…I’m not the kind of human you want. I’m defiant. I’m an angry fucking bitch.”

She smiles and her forked tongue snakes out for just a second as her lips quirk. “You’re perfect. You’re behaving exactly as you should at this point in your training. All it shows is that I made the right decision.”

I feel dizzy with rage. “Yeah? So you just go around taking things you want without any care for what they want?”

“You refer to yourself as a thing? That’s cute.” I feel my blood pressure spike. Before I can hold it back, I let out a scream. I keep going, my voice straining and my throat hurting as I just let it flow out. It bounces off the walls around us and comes crashing back into my ears.

She reaches out and grabs my wrist firmly and my scream falls away. Her fingers are long and strong with claws protruding from the tips in the same deep black as her eyes. Her hand begins to glow. I go to let out another scream but nothing comes. It feels like the sound is ready to go but there’s no vehicle to carry it, like my voice can’t compute the noises it’s supposed to. It’s alarming and fucking unfair…

Before I can process how she silenced me, I feel a deep calm wash over my body. My heart rate, which probably hadn’t dipped below 150 bpm for the last hour, now feels slow and steady in my chest.

“What did you do to me?”

“You seemed agitated. I need you in a calmer headspace so you can listen and understand.” Great, so more about what she wants. She lets go of my wrist and strokes her claws up and down my arm absentmindedly as she continues. “I have studied your species. You are curious and brave, but also selfish and individualistic.”