Page 3 of You're Not My King!

“Wow.” I snorted. “For all this talk of skill, you really have none in sarcasm.”

“Sarcasm is not a skill. Nor does it require intelligence.”

“I beg to differ.” Folding my arms over my chest, I allowed myself a second to process. It was strange to think that thirty days ago, I was minding my own business, struggling through my sorry excuse of a life, then bam. Accidently abducted by aliens. Thanks to one reckless, knee-jerk reaction—my first selfless act in years—I’d screwed up my chances of repairing broken bonds, of healing among the only people who had, once upon a time, loved me unconditionally.

It was typical, really. I’d been so close to getting back on track, to leaving all the bullshit behind, forgetting all the shit I’d been dealt, but nope.Apparently, I’d been kidding myself thinking it would ever be that simple. What had given me the idea that I deserved to be cut some slack? The universe clearly had other plans. Although, sending aliens to tell me I was a fool for trying was a bit extreme.

An eighteen-wheeler mowing me down on the highway would have sufficed.

“Okay, so lemme recap.” I twirled a finger in a rewind motion. “I failed all your weird tests for God knows what, and after half a day of debate, you guys have decided I wouldn’t be a good fit for planet Fuck You—which, unsurprisingly, is a pleasure planet, but that’s not important. And since going back to Earth is obviously not in the cards, I’m being transported to a place called You Suck—and honestly, that name feels like a personal attack—to live among fucking lizard people.” I heaved in a deep breath, my voice an octave higher when I finally added, “Did I get all that right?”

“Yes,” he said dryly. “Although, You Suck came into existence thousands of years before your creation. Its namesake is not you.”

I huffed a short laugh. I had to admit that while sex wasn’t something I shied away from, and Christ knew I was gagging to be touched, I was pretty ecstatic about not being picked for the pleasure planet. Sucking and riding squishy alien dick every day until I died wasn’t really all that appealing. Course, it still stung that a whole species had dubbed me an uggo. It was probably the bunny teeth and crooked nose I had going on; unless aliens had more niche beauty standards, like innie belly buttons and extra fingers. Who knew? I’d never cared for my looks, it was never important, but it had to be a new low that I was too fugly to be a sex slave.

Oblivious to my woes—or uncaring of them—the alien sighed down at his e-tablet again, reading from it like a script. “Your records show that you have already been injected with the serum which prevents suffocation upon introduction to their atmosphere, as well as the scan that grants your brain an extra layer of protective tissue to hinder eruption.”

Oh, fantastic.

“You Suck does not utilize technology, so a translating device was not installed. You will learn their language manually. Or not at all, I do not care.”

“Noted.”

He tucked the tablet under one of his arms, and clasped two hands in front of his crotch while the other two crossed over his chest. “And your new owner will be determined after your arrival.”

I floundered. “Whoa, whoa, back up… Owner?”

“Yes,” he said calmly, as if he hadn’t just dropped the bomb that I’d never be a free man again—now that was enough to get my escape juices flowing again. “The planet follows old traditions. Upon your delivery to You Suck, you will be passed to an escort who will march you through the clans, and bids will be placed for your permanent adoption.”

And there was that word again, adoption, like we were a bunch of abandoned pets at a shelter. “Are you telling me that I’m actually going to be sent to market like a fucking pig?”

“Of course not,” he droned without skipping a beat. “Pigs are useful creatures.”

I scoffed. This guy. He was not playing around, and he clearly took great pleasure in serving my sentence. Not that I blamed him, it was a juicy one—me being a unicorn, and all—and I knew myself how boring it got around here. Gotta get your kicks from somewhere. Besides, I’d had an inkling that my future wasn’t gonna be all rainbows and gold coins, and well, this was… something. There was also nothing I could do about it. I was in no state to fight, and was broke as shit, so I couldn’t bail myself out. I would have totally offered to suck dick to earn a perk or two, but this guy was my only option, and he could go fuck himself.

My fate was sealed.

“If there are no more questions,” he said, not giving me a chance to dispute. “You are to be escorted to the loading bay, and boarded onto the next spacecraft bound for your new habitat.”

“What? Right now?”

“Have you somewhere else to be?”

This guy could raise the temper of a monk. “Yes, actually. At home. Or, y’know, anywhere that isn’t here.”

“That’s unfortunate.” He stepped forward, producing a small device from his pocket before handing it to me. It was similar to his e-tablet, but in miniature, and as soon as it was in my palm, it lit up, a robotic voice echoing from the speaker, prompting me for my fingerprint.

I obeyed without pause—in for a penny—and not a second later, my name flashed across the screen, that same tinny voice repeating it aloud. The word U’SUHK then slid in underneath. Interesting spelling, I noted, and it sounded a little more comical from a computer than the alien dude. Without context, the Alexa dupe was telling me that I sucked.

Story of my fucking life, really.

“We hope you find peace and happiness in your new home,” the alien recited as if he was being held at gunpoint. It didn’t bother me.

“That depends… will there be lots of treats and walkies?”

His eyes narrowed, but he obviously decided that understanding my meaning wasn’t worth it, and turned briskly on his heel. As he scanned his fingerprint on the keypad beside the entryway, it occurred to me that I would never see this dude, or anyone on this space station, again. I probably should have been counting my blessings, but instead, I felt a little bummed. I knew no one in this place by name, and it triggered flashbacks of abandoned buildings, dirty, needle-strewn floors and, despite the crowded room, a sense of isolation that I really didn’t want to revisit.

An important step in healing was making conscious decisions that led me away from the paths I’d taken before.

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