“So I guess the king’s not a fan,” she says, turning back and forth in front of the mirror, admiring herself. “I like what you did with my hair. Did you add some purple?”
“A little.”
I admire her in turn. Not because of her appearance, but because of her complete inability to care what others think of her. She seems to be immune from opinion.
“The king is protective of his baby mama, as you so eloquently and disrespectfully put it. You must speak with respect when you address him, or I will punish you with so much intensity and fury that you will not be able to climax. You will be too busy begging for mercy.”
“I’m sorry. But he came in here and he ruined our fun. We were having a nice time.”
We were having a nice time. That is the last thing I expected to have with my little human doll. When she is happy, she lights up in a way that almost makes her look like one of our own kind. Her scales cannot change color. She doesn’t even have scales. She doesn’t have a skull fin either. I don’t know where humans keep their supersensory glands. It’s very possible they don’t have any.
Anyway. There is something about this Lucky. The way she behaves, how free she is, and maybe how pretty she is. I was not prepared to find a human attractive, but I have been treated to flashes of ongoing nudity from time to time throughout the dressing process. Human physiology is both different from ours, and entirely the same as ours. She lacks the fin, and she lacks the scales, and she lacks some of the intellect, though I do not know if that is my own arrogance getting in the way of perceiving her intelligence. She responds to my touch, and my discipline. I barely know her and yet she has already begun to erode my initial position of dislike.
Five
Lucky
“You’re not coming in with me?”
“The king’s mate has asked to see you alone. She says she’s tired of having all her communications moderated by aliens. She wants to meet you on your own terms. To ensure you're happy to be here.”
“Am I happy to be here?”
“Only you can answer that.”
“Do you care if I’m happy?” There’s something going on here. The first moment I met him, he was all about rough control and kinky domination — which I’m not complaining about, but that was just a coincidental meeting of the minds. Now it seems like it matters. Like, maybe, I might matter.
“She cares, and therefore we must all care.”
“Huh, so you actually have to keep me happy? That’s news. I will keep that in mind.”
“Only to a certain extent. Be good in there. If you upset her, you will be punished harshly.”
“Yeah, but I might like that, mightn’t I.”
“You might,” he admits, trying to stay staunch and stern, but I see the way his eyes flash. I think he likes hurting me. I think he’s a sadist. And I think we might be something of a match.
He opens the doors and I step into an absolutely incredible room. This is like, what I think an ancient Egyptian spaceship might have looked like. There are very tall ceilings, and windows that look out into eternity. There’s enough furniture to provide sitting and lounging spaces for dozens of people but the room is devoid of courtiers and servants and whatever. There is just one very pregnant woman laying on a couch, looking bored.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m Lucky.”
“Lucky?” She looks at me and struggles to sit up. “That’s a cool name.”
“It is a cool name.”
Seconds into this interaction, we are in full agreement. That has to be a good sign.
“So, I have just been abducted…” When she doesn’t start talking, I decide I should probably lead the conversation.
“Oh, how fun.”
“Fun?”
“I wasn’t abducted. I was contracted. Through my boss. Then King Tyrant and I fell in love, and now…” she gestures toward her body, which, again, is huge. She’s not normal pregnant. She’s mega pregnant. Extra pregnant. She looks like she’s gestating a small village.
“Knocked up, eh. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she says, not sounding terribly enthused. I know how she feels. Not personally, but a lot of my friends have had babies over the years and they always fucking hate it by the end.
I decide to change the subject to something that might be relevant to both of us.
“So how do I get back to Earth?”
“You don’t. Once you see everything that is up here, you become a target on Earth. Everybody who knows you know will try to kill you in order for you to keep your silence. Aliens are the world’s best kept secret. You know how some companies and some people just seem insanely rich? People who buy million dollar dresses? People who have ten houses located in every expensive resort in the world?”