Kidnapped to be Alien Women's Pets

I was to be first. The blue-haired alien ordered me to stay perfectly still then buckled the collar around my neck. A chill went all through me as she did so, and all at the same time I blushed at the shame of being a naked animal on an alien world while I also thrilled at having this beautiful woman to rule over me. She stroked my hair and I leaned into it; she laughed and I barked back. Then she spoke to me, pointing to the disc and then to me.

"Sooky," she said to me.

They did the same to my friend, who shivered when the collar fastened around his neck, and said to him "Loppy".

That was the moment I realised I couldn't remember our old names. I knew this man, knew him from growing up with him, knew his feelings and his mind, but I'd forgotten his name. Searching through my other memories, it was surprising how much seemed to be obviously missing, how much was just a gap that probably held my old friends and family, attachments that would have made it so much harder to break me. In short, they'd deleted some part of my mind. I went cold at the thought, but then the blue haired woman patted me on the head and called me a good boy once more, and once more came the same rush of euphoria. I nuzzled her hand with my scalp and my face. There was something in her touch that I needed.

The slavegirl left the room, and came back wearing long black leather boots, but still naked otherwise. From her hand dangled two long chain leashes, which she passed to the alien women, whom I mentally called Mistress Blue and Mistress White, for their hair colours. Mistress Blue clipped the leash to my collar and Mistress White took Loppy, my friend and fellow captive. Somehow the word 'captive' didn't quite describe us. Whether due to being drugged, brainwashed, or just plain submissive as hell, we'd gone along pretty willingly so far.

It was obvious that they meant to take us outside, and for Loppy and I, that was too soon. We both pulled back on the leashes as our mistresses took us out of the sitting room into the light, wood-paneled hall where the front door was. I shook my head: no. Not yet. Loppy sat down on his haunches, and we caught each other's eye. That was the absolute limit of all the resistance we could muster, and I wonder if he saw the fear in mine that I saw in his. For myself, I was afraid of going outside but equally afraid of more pain; if I'm truly honest, I was also afraid of disappointing Mistress Blue, for whose approval I was already developing a great need.

The two alien women clicked their tongues then said "Bad dog!" to each of us, almost simultaneously. We cringed, there on the floor, then each of our mistresses pressed a button in the handle of the leash they were holding. Electricity shot through my collar and made my body jerk a strange dance on the hard floor, before I collapsed completely and had the breath knocked out of me. The shock went on and on, until I knew I could bare no more, and I pleaded with my wide eyes to Mistress Blue, and nodded. I would go. She nodded too, then she stroked my head and a feeling of rightness swept through my body.

Loppy had come to the same conclusion, and followed slowly to the front door. Mistress White put on her boots and picked up her shoulder bag. From it, she withdrew a metal tube that contained a glass or plastic vial, and seemed to end in a point. She presented it to Mistress Blue and they had a heated discussion about it, pointing at the two petmales, then outside, then back at us, on like that for several minutes while we waited and tried to work out what was happening. From the tone, it seemed like they reached a compromise, and Mistress White injected Loppy and I with some kind of drug, while the slavegirl went into another room and came back holding three long crops with vicious ends. The women took one each.

The front door opened and I took my first hesitant steps outside. I was conscious of my nudity, but with every heartbeat, the new dose of drugs rushed round my body and pushed away my cares. I was left instead with a feeling of love for Mistress Blue and Mistress White, for the slavegirl too, for Loppy, and to a lesser degree, to everyone we met. So what if I was naked, I was a pet. A quieter voice in my head told me I was a human, but the evidence of my eyes disagreed, and surrendering my will felt so good. It felt like the very best version of how I'd always imagined it could.

We found ourselves in a wide, quiet suburban street of detached houses made of a pale brown stone. Each had an ample front garden, and many had a vehicle of some sort parked in front. Loppy and I were tugged out onto the street and started to pick our way along the pavement beside the women holding our leashes. Whenever we fell behind or went ahead, a warning shock would be sent through the collars - heel. My knees, I discovered, had been surgically altered to possess a hard-wearing but springy pad that meant I could crawl on them without discomfort. Loppy and I tried walking using our feet to push our knees off the ground, but we found that tired us and that crawling was just easier.

We had gone about a hundred metres when our mistresses stopped outside one of the elegant houses in the neighbourhood, to say hello to a young-looking alien woman who was at that moment spanking a nude, grey-haired, sixty-ish looking human woman over her knee. The pair were next to the house, at the other end of the long green lawn that ran right up to the pavement. The human was naked, collared, and crying, while the clothed alien woman shouted angry words at her and the human woman nodded and gabbled back some words between sobs. Despite the age difference, there was no question of who owned who.

When the young alien woman was done punishing her slave, she brought the older woman with her and had her stand right at the edge of their property. The slavegirl was very fit for her age, slim and shapely, with small breasts, and only her grey hair and the speed she moved at really gave her away. Her mistress had her stand with her hands on her head facing the road, and left her there a few metres away from us to come over and talk to us.

She made a beeline for me and gasped in excitement when she saw me. "Present," said Mistress Blue, and I snapped into one of the positions from the training video: sitting up, knees wide open, paws up and out to each side of my body, and cock and balls thrust forward. The young-looking alien woman knelt down and ran her sharp fingernails over my chest, then through my topknot, then fondled my cock and balls. I blushed when I got hard in her hand, but she just gave my cock a playful squeeze and then flicked it to make it bounce. She laughed at it, then did the same to Loppy. We sat there on the street like that: two leashed pets with bouncing hardons. Our tails had started to wag.

That was when I realised just how strong the drugs we were being given were. A total stranger had just inspected my penis and testicles in the street, and I'd done nothing except hope I'd be called a good boy for enjoying it. When she'd done fondling us, she chatted with my mistresses a while, then as we parted she gave the brunette slavegirl in our group a playful swat on her bare bottom, which made the slavegirl giggle then bite her lip.

We were off again, on a slow meandering walk through the city, where we stopped frequently so that Loppy and I could be shown the workings of the place. On several of the lawns we passed, petmales were playing, sometimes with their owners and sometimes with each other. Some of the pets were naked like us, while others wore harnesses or even little outfits. One we saw was even in a full suit of brilliant white latex with black spots on; there was a cutout so that his cock and arse were not covered.

We passed one other woman who we stopped to talk to, an old-looking green alien with the darkest skin I'd seen on any of the aliens yet. With her was a red-haired, freckled human slavegirl who looked to be about fifty, and she held the leashes of a petmale of the same age, and a younger petmale of about twetny whose features were a little like the slavegirl, and a little like the older petmale. It hit me. A family. Wife, husband, son, all enslaved, all happily being led through the streets together by their owner. Both the husband and the son had erections, and neither was at all concerned about the fact.

Through our whole walk through the city, and through all the years since, I've never once seen any alien or human children. I don't know if this race reproduces differently, or if they just raise their children elsewhere so they can sport freely in their open cities full of naked slaves, but their whole society seems to be only adults. It's not like I've ever been able to ask them about it.

Our walk through the suburbs ended at a monorail station, where a lift whisked us up to the platform and we waited a few seconds before the fastest train I'd ever seen glided up to the platform. The passengers inside should have been thrown about by the force of the stop, but once we got onboard I found that I could barely even feel the acceleration and that the stops were gentle as a breeze. The technology was lightyears ahead of Earth, and that only served to remind me that I was controlled by power I didn't even understand. Escape seemed a remote possibility; return to Earth more remote still. I had no hands, could not talk and could not stand, and my body clearly had implants in it. I had to assume that every step I took was tracked.

I will always remember that monorail ride. It took mere minutes to get us right into the heart of a bustling city that blurred by silently outside the carriage window, but that was the moment I really broke. In the carriage with us were many other petmales (human and alien), human female slaves, and female slaves of other species too. None made any attempt to resist anything they were made to do, and most looked happy enough, if bored by the train journey. I saw more naked flesh in that carriage than I'd seen in the whole of the rest of my life. And all of it was some green alien woman's collared property.

My owners - there was no point denying it any longer - swapped leashes and I was led out of the train and down to the street by Mistress White. She called me a Good Boy for keeping to heel despite the packed crowds on the pavements in the shopping district we were in. I kept close to her, fearing losing her and losing my way, fearing being trodden on by the two-legged women who walked everywhere above me, or getting tangled up in the leash of another petmale.

There were many, many petmales like me there on those busy urban streets; every other woman led one or more on a leash, and I found that there were all kinds of shapes and sizes. Like me, were many petmales with lean, skinny frames whose ribs showed a little under their skin and who tended to have small or medium-sized cocks. Most had hair in a topknot, pigtails or ponytail, with all but a little of the head shaved bare.

Some petmales we saw on the street were smaller than me, but still clearly adults. These were more often to be seen wearing some kind of little outfit, like a sailor's top or a minidress, that enhanced their cuteness. The polar opposite of those were the big, stocky muscle dogs who hulked along the pavements, often in leather harnesses that were strapped around them to enhance their build. It was the biggest dogs like those who were the friendliest, which came as a relief given how quickly any of them would outclass me in a fight.

A short walk later, we entered a spacious store full of petmale paraphernalia and clothing. Here and there around the store were naked slavegirl shop assistants helping customers, and those slaves were overseen by two female alien managers. Darting around or leashed in place were half a dozen petmales of all shapes and sizes, each modelling some kind of clothing or device for petmales. My mistresses beckoned a slavegirl over, a chipper redheaded human of perhaps thirty, who wore long red thigh-high boots and a matching belt from which dangled a red crop, for discipling the store's pet-models.

My mistresses made their way around the shop, browsing, laughing and selecting clothes to go into a basket and occasionally holding things up against me or Loppy to see what they might look like on us. The shop slavegirl gave some words on each - whether her opinions or facts and figures I don't know - and the basket soon filled up with all kinds of items. When my owners felt they had enough, we were beckoned back to the front of the store, where there was a bank of changing rooms that actually formed part of the shop window.

"Sooky, beg," said Mistress Blue.

I faced her and started the motions, making sure that as I made the hand movements I also jiggled my penis around. She laughed, delighted, then shook her head and pointed to the window. "Beg, Sooky," she said again, and I cottoned on. I had to go right up to the window and do it there. A few passersby caught my eye, and one stopped for the show. I begged at them, a tear in my eye at the spectacle I was being forced to make of myself. From what I could see, it brought pure joy to the heart of the woman who watched me, then to the hearts of the trio of red-dressed aliens who stopped to join her, and my mistresses let the show drag on quite a while.

"Good boy," said Mistress White, "come back."

I turned away from the window to find that the shop slavegirl and 'my' slavegirl had fit Loppy into a fishnet bodystocking that they made him show off in the window. The legs part ended just above the knee, to avoid wear. It was probably the most fetish thing I'd seen another man wear that close, and it quickly became clear that there was a matching one for me to try on too.

The fabric of the bodystocking had a high-tech, invisible seam that meant the whole thing could be put on me in seconds. It sealed itself around me and then drew in tight, hugging my chest and ribs and really picking out the modifications that had been made to my body shape. My owners made me show it off to them at every angle, and their smiles and coos made it clear that they were very appreciative. In fact, my new senses could tell that they were more than appreciative.

Since waking that morning, my nose had been sorting out new scents and my tongue had been acquiring a huge range of tastes from the air. Now I could smell one that went with a faster heart rate (for my owners and me) and a sense of electricity: arousal. My owners, and the brunette slavegirl, were getting turned on watching Loppy and me model the fetish bodystockings, with special cutouts for the balls and arse. Their arousal in the air affected Loppy and me in turn, and soon our cocks were rock hard and we blushed at the sight of them.

For the slavegirl and my owners, this seemed like nothing out of the ordinary, but Loppy and I still acted like it was a big deal for us to displayed in collars and bodystockings with rock-hard cocks, and we both tried to face away from all the people watching us. In the confined space of the changing room, that meant trying to face the side walls. Our mistresses were having none of it, and turned us back towards them with a mixture of hand signals and collar shocks. We whined. More shocks. We shut up. Pats on the head and a rush of rightness at the words "Good boy."

The next item in the basket was a tight tank top made of a see-through purple plastic. It wrapped itself around my chest and hugged my skinny frame snugly, so that it picked out my light musculature and my ribs. The tank top was then joined by matching shorts, which had a cutout for my cock just like the one in the bodystocking. They had me walk around in it a little. It squeaked. My new owners smiled and nodded - this one was being bought too.

Two outfits were tried and rejected. The first of these was a criss-cross web of leather straps that wound themselves round and round my torso and limbs, slithering along through some embedded tech, never resting in one shape. The effect seemed to disturb my owners and they sent it back to the shopfloor. The second was a cute little outfit that on Earth would have looked like a sailor's - blue and white stripes. Apparently it just didn't suit me.

The next thing they bought for me was a set of black rubber arseless chaps that fixed around my thin waist and ran down to just above my knees, where another strap held them in place. They showed me what it looked like in a mirror, back in the main shop. It moved with me, clinging to my skin, and it drew the eye to my tight, bare bottom and then to my dangling cock. My owners discussed among themselves and came to some kind of decision, then sent the shopgirl away to come back with some other piece of black rubber clothing.

It was a corset. The thing went around my midriff and squeezed me tight, reshaping me into an hourglass with an impossibly thin middle. I could still breathe fairly easily, and in that moment I wondered just how many modifications they'd made to me. In the mirror I looked like an androgynous fetish model ready for a really kinky photoshoot. I have to admit that it wasn't the drugs that made me like the look, but it did surprise me how quickly I'd resigned myself to being displayed like that. It had always been a fantasy, but the drugs they'd given me were helping me accept that now, now it was very real, and inescapable. I wanted to avoid more pain, to be a good pet, so I went along with it.

Loppy had been given all the same clothes; it seemed that our outfits were supposed to match. Our owners obviously liked how we looked in corsets, and they added another in white leather, and one more in red velvet. With these came matching booty shorts with cutouts. They discussed it between them and I was relieved when they nodded. That looked like enough clothes. They paid and got us back into the black rubber chaps, then leashed us up and led us out of the store while the slavegirl carried the shopping bags.

My mind started to drift as we made our way through more busy streets, back to what I could piece together of my old life. It was a distant memory by then, fading more with every hour, and my newly enhanced senses made my new life so much more real and pressing. A swish of one of the long crops brought me painfully back to the present moment; I had fallen behind Mistress White, who was having none of any such silliness from her pet. She struck my bottom with more quick strikes and I hung my head in shame, an animal being whipped in the street. She clicked her tongue: heel. We set off again.

I could actually smell her annoyance. It was sharp, fresh, a rasp across the delicate receptors in my nose and mouth. As I made a show of keeping to heel and panting like the dog she'd made me, the smell shifted, first into something calm and neutral, a faint presence, then into a stronger and stronger scent of obvious arousal. My obedience turned her on, and that turned me on. When I realised that she approved of my show of submission, I was hit by another euphoric rush that tingled all over my skin. I felt like I was glowing with contentment, there on her leash. The voice of resistance in my mind? All but gone. Here was a city of millions of slave owners and millions of slave pets, and I was fast becoming a good cog in that machine.

The city heaved with people and 'pets', and we wove our way through its thronged streets until the crowds started to thin. On the wind came scents of grass and a medley of other pets, accompanied by a frisson of excitement and enjoyment. We rounded one last corner and there in sight was the source: a huge city park, all fenced around, and full of trees, shrubs, fields and paths. A pet park.

The park was about 500 metres on either side, a solid square of nature in the middle of the glass and steel city. It was busy but not crowded, and I was grateful for that, because the city streets had overwhelmed my enhanced senses and I needed some time to get my bearings back. When we passed through the old-fashioned wrought iron gate, our owners made a show of using a handheld device to scan our collars, then they let us off our leashes. They pointed us to some signs just inside the fence - a pet being shocked for passing beyond the gate. We were allowed free roam in the park, but not to leave it. Clear enough.