People like to romanticize the wild life....but as this story illustrates, there can be many advantages to being a pet.
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Adam was born a warrior on a world that had been at war for thousands of years. In a time beyond memory, the planet had been invaded by aliens with invincible weapons, and they conquered all the tribes before they could even organize a resistance.
The aliens plundered the planet of its resources and colonized it, enslaving some of the tribes to build enormous enclosed structures. Most of the world’s population had disappeared inside these structures, never to be seen again. Those who dared to speculate on their fate said that it was one of two things; death or something much worse.
Terrible sounds emanated from these structures, like screaming amplified thousands of times. Acrid brown smoke billowed from them day and night. The rivers flowing away from them were putrid and poisonous. There was literally a circle of death around them, 100 miles across, where every living thing had either been killed by the poison or taken inside the structures.
Huge vehicles roamed the entire planet searching for resources and dumping mountainous piles of stinking, feculent poison, constantly enlarging the circles of death, until they began to touch. The planet was dying, as if consumed by some grotesque cancer.
Adam’s tribe considered themselves the lucky ones. Not because they had managed to remain free, but simply because they had survived. Niceties like the concept of freedom had long disappeared from Adam’s world, if it ever existed. Even though very few individuals of very few tribes still survived, there was still so little food and shelter available, that everyone was at war with everyone else for every bite of food. The cohesion of tribal society had disintegrated into chaos.
Adam had been one of the strongest and proudest hunters of his tribe. Now he was alone, starving and plagued with parasites. There were sores all over his body. He hunted desperately and in fear. For he was also the hunted. A role he was not born for. It would have enraged him, if he had the strength for rage. But he succumbed to fear. There was nothing else to do when you are hunted by aliens with invincible weapons riding in untiring machines.
Adam was surviving day by day, that was all. He had no rest, no peace, no hope. He no longer had the strength or the dignity to attract a woman. He hadn’t even seen a woman in months. And if he did, it was just as likely she would try to kill him and cannibalize him. Starving women aren’t interested in love. There had to be a future for love. And there wasn’t. That’s what Adam was thinking when the dart hit him in the shoulder. It stung like a 10-pound hornet and then Adam felt his consciousness fading and he thought “my suffering is over, the aliens have killed me.”
When Adam regained consciousness, he was inside a structure. He immediately looked for a way out and saw none. There were openings you could see though but they were too small to get through. Outside the structure there were aliens, looking at him. And inside the structure, there were . . . . . fantastic things. Food, spread out on a long low table on clean platters. Every delicacy he had ever heard of. Beautifully prepared, a sumptuous repast, fit for a king. He was too hungry to be suspicious. He ate ravenously and every bite was indescribably delicious. He gorged himself; afraid the aliens would come and take it away. The aliens looked at him with, well, smiles, on their strange faces. If one ignored the grotesque pumpkin-like craniums, they had faces; two eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, that made recognizable expressions.
Adam devoured everything on the table, and the aliens pushed more goodies though one of the openings. Adam ate this more slowly. He had not been satiated since he was born. Not ever. He looked around the apartment, for that’s what it was. A luxury apartment, filled with art, sculptures, musical instruments and exercise machines. There was a huge bed, piled high with the softest perfumed pillows and quilts. Adam had never slept on a bed either. There was a large bathroom. Adam had never seen a bathroom, but he understood at once what an incredible luxury this was.
As Adam bathed he noticed that all the parasites had been removed from him. And his many sores were no longer painful and were beginning to heal. Over the next several days he realized that his internal parasites were gone also as he was rapidly gaining strength and muscles and virility again.
He continued to look for a way out for a very specific reason, it was not for the freedom to starve and be hunted and make war and face death for every morsel of food. No. There was only one thing out there that he lacked now. A woman. Not long after he thought that, an opening appeared in the wall and through it stepped the most beautiful, sultry, sensuous woman Adam had ever seen, built for love, and clearly proud of it.
“What’s going on here”? Adam asked.
“They want to make pets out of us”, she said.
“Yea. Some of us they hunt for sport, some of us they eat. Some of us are slaves, some of us they leave to live between the dead zones. The lucky ones get to be pets.
“What’s a pet?” he said
“Well some of the aliens must feel guilty about what they are doing to the planet and they pick out some of us to treat really well to make up for it.”
“And what do we have to do in return?”
“Breed”, she purred with an irresistible smile.
“That’s it. So what do you say?”
“There's a future then?”
“I think so.”
“Then I say yes.”
Together they experienced the pleasure Adam had only dreamed of and it was at least twice as wonderful as his dreams, for it as the union of two spirits no longer frightened and alone. And her pleasure magically resonated with his own. There is a future, Adam thought. They were making it, together.
For the first time in his life Adam was exhausted from the exertions of lovemaking and digesting a satisfying meal. Not from running for his life, starving, and being bled by parasites. He decided that a pet was like a king, his every need attended. He yawned, swished his long tail and stretched his claws contentedly, and slept peacefully, for the first time in his life.
Many thanks to Bart Culver allowing the use of this article on ExoticCatz.com.com in cooperation with the Feline Conservation Federation. This article is copyrighted 2004 by Bart Culver, and originally appeared in the FCF Newsletter. All rights are reserved. FCF members receive a bi-monthly newsletter containing a wealth of articles like this one, and I highly recommend becoming an FCF member to learn more about exotic felines.