The dawn light, always intrusive, was the first thing to wake you up as its rays washed over you through the window along with chittering birds outside. Cursing your light sleep habits, you turn over in your cot and try to curl under your sparse blankets; to hell with early rising.
...Too bad the welcome darkness and silence that brought were shattered by the second thing to wake you up--thunderous, booming rumble: a deep guttural hissing noise, like a freight train in a landslide. The ground and walls shook as the noise came in waves.
Blast it, Zafirah was snoring again.
Sighing, you throw off your covers and groggily walk through your minimally-furnished quarters, exiting onto your snoring alligator mistress’s bedside table.
Zafirah was a Titan, really--350 feet tall at the least, scales the color of rich coffee with a few yellow spots down her spine and tail with a tan underbelly. She had just a bit of pudge in her belly, cleavage and rear you could see even under her blankets, but her figure was otherwise quite toned. It was a figure she was quite proud of, though she’d gotten it from her mother.
You winced at the memory of the matriarch gator who’d given you to her daughter as a birthday gift. Even as gentle as Zafirah was, you were still her pet. Years ago, Earth had been invaded and conquered by a race of aliens who resembled giant anthropomorphic animals. You’d only been a kid when it happened; all the memories were fuzzy and distant. You could barely remember NOT living in a world where towering giants stomped about everywhere.
The aliens, simply calling themselves the “Anthro Imperium” had been surprisingly light conquerors. Earth had been ultimately made a sort of client state: humans given rights and protections as Imperial citizens, and mostly left alone as long as they paid taxes to their suzerian overlords.
Taxes and…other tribute.
The Anthros were quite predatory, even those resembling “benign” animals. They still enjoying toying with smaller beings, showing their dominance. Devouring “tinies” alive wasn’t unheard of, either. Thus was born the “Prey Tribute”--every year, Earth would hand over a crop of “undesirables” like criminals and terrorists to the Anthros to become…whatever their captives wanted them to be. Food, pets, toys; it never ended well, but in exchange for the Imperium’s benevolence it had been a good deal. Most of the victims were criminal scum anyway.
….Well, except for you. You’d only been in for some petty theft and vandalism, but the quota had had to be filled that year. You were slotted into the Tribute crop and sent off to your fate. You ended up in the hands of Zafirah’s mother: a black alligator woman who’d fought in the initial invasion, and had swallowed a platoon of tanks whole just because she could.
You could still remember what she’d said to you that day.
Little human, my daughter will simply adore you. Well, for your sake, I hope she does.”
You sigh again. At least you didn't end up eaten. She HAD sat on you a few times, though.
Zafirah’s snoring stops as she begins to rouse from her sleep...
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