My Pet Rattler part 1

  My Pet Rattler

    "Stop!" shouts a man in zoo uniform running down the walkway by the high walled and force field domed enclosure as he waves his arms frantically at the woman operating the drone carrying below it a clear container holding its odd cargo. A large creature, about seven feet long and looking like a human tongue only completly covered in taste buds with the flat end held up off the floor of the container by six knubs for limbs and another knub where a head would be save that it doesn't have any mouth, nostrils, or eyes, just looking like another limb knub that moves around as though it were a head.

   This scene plays out on a television monitor on the wall in a dark room as a fifty something year old man with a trimmed white beard and mustache watches, the light of the monitor making his grey combed hair shimmer a bit. The television shows the woman calling back the drone, even as the Naga inside the enclosure tries to leap at it and lets out a horrific roar as it is denied as the report puts it according to the woman on the screen "her favorite treat". The man cups his chin in his hands, this has been just another in a line of reports that day of such incidents, played up bigger than they really are as far as he is concerned. The "Living Tongues" now called Tarda'mollsca officially, being recalled.

   The man stands and paces, the news stories are playing it up dramatically....we've been feeding them to dragons, harvesting them as food...the man glares at the television and flips it off with his remote.

  "Sapient," he mutters, "damned things don't use tools, don't have social groups beyond immediate family, don't even have any culture, written anything..."

   "fuck," he growls as he flips the television back on, bringing up another program he had marked, the woman on the screen talking about using this new sapience detection technology that utilizes the psycho-layer dimension to detect complex abstract thought...it was how the Miag aliens found humanity after all, and applying it to other animals.

   He turns the televsion off again returning the room to darkness and sits down his head in his hands and mutters, "My company is ruined."

   ******

   -3 weeks later-

   "Its right here for your final approval Mr. Smith," says the small somewhat weasely man in a lab coat as he leads the 50 some year old man into a room down the hall of the rather large facility. Located in the center of the room is a table, an eighteen foot long table with an equally long Lamia  with four arms on it, beside it is a screen showing the backside of the Lamia.

   "As you can see," says the man in the lab coat, "We adhered to your request as closely as possible Mr. Smith, a grey diamond back rattle snake in design, complete with rattle, a sandstone skin tone, with brown with black boarder diamond back patterns on the dorsal side of the arms, complete with those elbow spikes you were so adament about peeking out of the center of the diamond, side scales, smaller diamond designs down the spine of the humanoid torso meeting the larger diamonds of the snake lower body. Short dark grey hair, and..."

   He brings up a picture within picture on the screen, "double iris and pupil snake eyes, as a bonus she'll have double binocular vision."

    The man in the lab coat puts on some thick leather gloves and waves Mr. Smith over and peels back the Lamia's lips, "and here Mr. Smith, the prehensile forked tongue standard of course, and just check out those fangs, one hiss from this beauty and coyotes will think twice about harassing your flock."

   "Good," says Mr. Smith, eying the Lamia up and down, focusing on the large scale covered breasts the lab coated man neglected to mention, he reaches towards the face.

   "Careful," says the man, "there is a reason I am wearing these gloves; they may be programmed to not harm humans, but that doesn't stop people from being hurt by our own human error after all, those teeth are still pretty sharp. But don't worry she'll make sure to...well, keep them tucked away if you decide to get intimate with her."

   Mr. Smith steps back, and pauses, this creature, this artificial creature is what he requested. He even "convinced" the technician to meet with him in private over some not in the catalogue features like four arms and elbow spikes he always liked from virtual reality Lamia designs but never saw in the Monster Mates products in real life; but now..."

   "Bigger than you thought huh?' says the man as if reading Mr. Smith's mind, "trust me we get that all the time, lying down like this she looks much bigger than she is, but get her up and moving about and half the time you might just forget about that long tail coiled up under them. The larger build is standard for their own health sake, if you wanted something smaller in build I'd have to show you some Nure-Onna or Glyconic designs, we'd still have to bill you for producing this one though unfortunatly."

   "No need for that," says Mr. Smith detecting something a tad too threatning under the man's words thanks to decades of business meetings and cutthroat tactics, "I'm satisfied, ship it to my Arizona ranch house."

   "Absolutely," says the man, "once the credits clear she'll be shiped out at once. We'll be sending a set up crew as well, check your home for possible Lamia proofing, that sort of thing, not unlike owning a large pet, "

   They talk as they leave the room, "there are a few extras our people will need to set up to accomodate your purchase as well."

   ******

   -6 months later-

     A sleek blue with silver trim hover car zips down a long road in the middle of the Arizona desert. Inside a man in his early thirties is looking out the passenger window, and beside him a well dressed woman watching the road ahead as what should be a self driving rental car has to keep being told to keep going as their destination is in the middle of no where.

   "Of all the places dad could choose to retire its on this shit hole planet," remarks the man.

   "You've been bitching about that since the space port," says the woman, "where'd you think he was going to retire?"

  "I don't know," says the man, "Mom retired on Parna, I kinda figured dad would retire on Armoda or Espara."

   "Seriously," says the woman, "dad on Armoda or Espara? You do know both those planets are tech droppers right? A bunch of...let's start over and abandon everything...other than the stuff we need to survive of course...farmers. Dad was a board chairman of a farming and shipping company, I doubt he knew a single damned thing about actual farming."

   "Do you?" asks the man.

  "No, and neither do you, that's not the point." says the woman.

  There is a moment of silence.

  "So," says the man, "What do you think this big expense was the bank called us about?"

  "Knowing dad," says the woman, "let's see, taking out a huge loan, not paying it back, getting us called out about it, I'd say dad...forgetting he no longer has a huge steady paycheck; or in denial his company basically kicked him out during their merger to not perish after they lost their biggest exports...and retiring to this mudball...maybe he bought himself a new Andros body...a Nekomimi one."

   The man about chokes from laughter as the woman smiles, "No, seriously...but I wouldn't put him past him to buy one of those Nekojins, he did say he wanted one when he retired....told me that anyway. Didn't mom dump him over something like that?"

  "I doubt that was the only reason," says the woman, "but mom did say he used to pester her about getting Nekomimi implants when they were younger. So yeah...honestly, I could see him getting a Nekojin, but still these days I don't think those are so nearly expensive as to take out a loan his retirement couldn't handle....unless he went all out crazy and bought all the accessories people get for those like giant habitats and play equipment."

   The man raises his eyebrow, "Sure know alot about it, sure you weren't wanting one too?"

   The woman *smirks*, "Please, with all this stuff going on about Andros prosthetic bodies and techno-organic rights; you know I live on Mars right? I'd have those Mecha-Nation and Andros nation loons harassing me; I swear those two organizations want to go to war with each other...speaking of, maybe that's why dad is way out here, maybe that's the loan, getting a bunch of crap set up way out here; Andros Nation has been getting pretty active on Earth lately, maybe he wanted to retire with his...retirement prize....way out away from the Ziggurat cities or Andros environmental protection zones."

   The man knows she just dodged that but just *shrugs*, "I'd think desert counts as protected environemtal whatevers too...but I guess we'll see...I mean when I called he sounded weirdly relieved and just said, *come over and see what I bought*...."

   "Me too," says the woman, as they see a fairly large ranch house with a huge fenced in area up ahead, a barn, a silo, and a large pond with a fountain. An indicator on the car tells them they just passed through an enviro-bubble shield and the temperature is now safe for humans so they could roll the windows down if the wanted.

   "Starting to see where the money went," says the man.

   "Alot of land," says the woman, "looks like a ranch, but I don't see any animals anywhere."

   "Maybe they are all in the barn?" offers the man.

   "Maybe," says the woman skeptical, "be a big waste of space if he didn't buy something, a small side business; that would explain the loan; but on Earth...farms like this just don't sell anymore. Not with the Ziggurat cities using food tubes and synth meat; you'd have to go to one of the simpler colony worlds if you wanted a farm like this to work."

   As the car approaches the drive they stare blankly as a series of light posts with flashing blue lights emerge along the side of the drive leading up to the main house.

   "Security scanners?" asks the man.

   "Now I am seeing where the money went," says the woman, "and...uh...Rob...look over there."

  She is pointing out by the barn, they see it, "standing" or rather sitting up with its tail coiled under it for the most part out by the barn, the four armed sand stone skinned Lamia with its grey diamond back rattle snake body, four clawed arms, short shaggy red hair, about all they can see from this distance watching them.

   "So much for a Nekojin," says Rob, "Dad bought a Lamia...and a farm for it."

   As the car approaches the garage to the main house they see their father, the old man with the shaggy grey beard and hair standing at the large window looking through the curtains holding what looks to be a large remote in his hands, looking between them and the Lamia which has only sidewinders a little bit away from the barn, not moving the orientation of its humanoid frame from waching the newcomers.

   "May not be a Nekojin," says the woman pointing at the Lamia's silver collar, "but dad put a collar on it...looks weird on a Lamia."

   ******

  *Inside the house*

   "A shock collar and invisible fencing?" says the woman confused, "sounds a bit overboard dad."

   "Yes," says the old man *Smith*, "Its my money I can do what I want with it. This is why I said just come out and look. I bought a Lamia, a custom job at that, bought this ranch, only about thirty acres, all I could get wedged between those Andros protection zones; no wander everyone on Earth lives in those Ziggurat cities; damned Andros Nation bought up the rest of the planet as a nature preserve. Got top of the line security, a bio-sphere field so I can step outside without being roasted in this 160 degree heat; the works."

  Most of the rest of their talk is general catching up, family stuff, but something feels off to the woman, *Rachel*, as she walks over to the window with the curtains drawn and peeks through; noticing her father stops talking briefly to look over at her before continuing some talk about politics or whatever with Rob. The Lamia is now standing out by the pond looking at the car, it is right up by the fence line flicking its tongue. It scoots its body closer to the fence, winces, and sidewinders its self backwards away from the fence line of the driveway. It looks over to the house, while Rachel can't see the split irises of its eyes from this far away she knows an angry glare when she sees one.

   "I need to check my messages," says Rachel excusing herself to the guest room, whose window is also out to the large fenced in front yard, off away from the walkway to the front door. From the outside one may have thought this other window could have been for a living room or a sitting room to watch the yard from rather than a guest room.

   In the guest room Rachel brings up on her phone tablet the special order site for the Comfort Companions and Techno-Organic GMO production company GiMod who provide these products for the Sol System. She scrolls past the legal stuff, to the order site, pausing at the general limitations for custom designing, "Multiple Arms not available"...she reads stuff about skeletal problems and muscular problems adding multiple limbs; including a link to an article addressing customer complaints as several military models do have multiple limbs, citing that these were simply not possible for civilian builds due to structural differences between civilian and military grade products. She peeks out the curtains observing the Lamia outside, it has taken to being coiled up/standing facing the front door, but out there in the fenced in area of the yard like some scarecrow, it definetly has four usable arms.

   "Custome build," whispers Rachel, "damn it dad what did you do..."

   She scrolls through the options, "you definetly got it custom dad, bet it cost you a shit ton of under the table money. That explains the solid currency withdrawal, shit. Hold on..."

   She narrows her eyes, "I don't see anything here about shock collars and invisible fences; damn nation dad you got swindled."

   She sees a bunch of stuff on the Lamia page about toys, playground stuff, enrichment items, special foods *synth animals* and a warning about predatory behavior and Lamia need to hunt, "Holy crap, this is expensive, no way if they sold you on some useless collar and fencing that they didn't also get you to buy some top of the line toys for your new pet."

   She shuts down the site and looks out the curtain, the Lamia suddenly moves, lunging at a spot on the ground, where with its lower right claw it has grabbed and crushed to death a ground squirrel; which it promptly consumes whole and quickly.

   "Are you even feeding it," she whispers to herself.

    It has been a long day, and as dusk approaches and they have dinner, synth chicken, which their father brags is one of the things their company could still make despite the changes to the laws, and he was thinking of raising on the farm...talk again of how there are other planets where this would have made more sense to farm; and that its too late he's already invested too much money in this ranch to move to another planet and not end up in some apartment. Talk of selling the ranch, pointing out a lack of livestock which their father acts rather dismissivly of saying he is going to start it up, have the Lamia be a security guard over the livestock...despite the only predators in the desert being small lizards and a few birds these days. Afterwords Rob retires to one guest room in the back of the house, and Rachel to the one in the front. Despite being one story, the house is surprisingly large, and spacious. As Rachel settles in for the night she wanders why her father can't keep the Lamia inside the house, move a few pieces of furniture around, and he has yet two more guest rooms (waste of space for one man to have a house like this) it could stay in.

  "I wander if he intended to get a few Nekojin maids," she mutters to herself as she checks her messages for real, "with how these rooms are made up, and got swindled into buying one big custom built under the table Lamia...looking at those prices you could get three Nekojin for the cost of one Lamia, fewer house change accomodations, smaller toys, eat less per unit; bet it was sales pressure. Dad never did have to deal with those types in the office after all; too use to yes men I bet."

   ******

   A rustling sound outside awakens Rachel in the middle of the night, 2:34am to be precise as she checks her phone and goes to the curtains. She jumps a little thinking it a person before realizing that the Lamia is *standing* about four feet from her window, its entire body back up just before a brick divider to the garden space under the windows. Close enough Rachel and easily make out the double irises and pupils in each eye. Rachel opens the window letting in the slightly cooler night air, all thanks to the enviro-shield for the actual night air here is about 80 degrees F.

   "Keeping watch over the house?" asks Rachel, to which the Lamia just cocks its head.

   "Oh brother," says Rachel, "Can you talk?"

   The Lamia makes a long clicking sound.

   "Of course," *sighs* Rachel, "the site said that was a popular option, I mean heavens forbid an A.I. be able to talk, to perform their functions. What is it with not giving double M's and other inhuman designs the ability to speak? Honestly its creepy if you ask me."

   She raises her hand, "Not you being creepy, but it creepy for people to want that. Even little vacuum drones have voice chips and speakers."

   She pauses and looks down at the path and realizes something, "That invisible fence goes all around the house too doesn't it." she points down at the little domes in the ground just on the outside of the bricks.

  Rachel points at her neck and the Lamia's neck and down at the domes.

  "Ki, iki, ki," clicks the Lamia nodding its head and pointing its upper right hand at the collar on its neck.

  Rachel shakes her head, "My father I swear...are you hungry?"

  The :Lamia tilts its head.

  "One moment," says Rachel, "I'll bring you something."

   She throws on a shirt and pants and heads to the kitchen grabbing a leg of synth-chicken from the fridge.

   Back at the window she holds it out, "here....sorry, right, catch."

  She tosses it and the Lamia catches it, sniffs it, and then peels the meat off with its teeth. It stares at the bone a moment, nibbles at it tentativly and tosses it aside on the ground.

   "There you go," says Rachel with a *yawn*, "have a good night."

   She closes the window, but not the curtains. Takes her shirt and pants off and gets back into bed. The Lamia lets out a purring sound and slithers off towards the barn. Rachel notices the curtains and gets up, the Lamia pausing by the barn to look back at Rachel's naked body, Rachel unaware as she closes her curtains that the Lamia is fingering a slit in its scales just below the waist where the tip of a penis is poking out slightly.

  ******

  The next morning as Rachel makes her way to the kitchen she hears Rob and their father in his office on the computer. Rachel rolls her eyes as Rob is trying to sell the old man on buying a small beginner farm property on the planey Freya, to put this middle of no where money trap up as collateral. And that Rob would even be able to loan him the money to get started. Of course Rob would be his land lord, Rob's business being land leasing on the outer colonies like Freya, Parna, and even selling lots on Espara and Armoda. Rachel however makes up a bowl of shredded bits of synth-chicken and heads out the side door walking across the yard.

   "Did he sell those comfort companions I gave him?" she wanders aloud looking around, "Not that he could have gotten much off a pair of dog models."

  She peeks her head into the barn, "Anyone home?" and pushes the door aside heading in. Nothing is there, the marks in the sandy floor of the barn however give away that the Lamia clearly spends a great deal of time in here. However otherwise the barn looks abandoned, much older than the six months she thought this was.

   "Guess dad had this property longer than I thought...but he made it sound like he paid for this...no..wait..."

   She turns and looks around, "How much did those GiMod assholes charge him for all that pointless security shit? I swear, if he wanted something custome made he knew I worked for Comfort Companions of Mars; I could have hooked him up with Io's GMO-Tech; if he wanted to spend this much he could have gotten a Naga or a giant sized Lamia; this one looks to be regular sized; but then...again;"

   She pauses as she sees a torn magazine nailed to a post, the picture of a naked woman.

   "A paper magazine?" she mutters, "then again this is Earth, trash piles are everywhere out in these blistering deserts, must have blown in..."

  She hears a *rattling* and looks about the ground knowing that sound, but its coming from above. In the rafters the Lamia is slithering about, coiling around the beams, rattling its tail, its four clawed hands gripping the beams as it looks down at her flicking its tongue.

   "Oh there you are," says Rachel, "Guess my dad ran out of money and have you this barn to play with huh?"

  She holds the bowl up, "come on down, got some treats for ya,"

   The Lamia tilts its head and stops rattling its tail, seemingly confused as it coils around the beams spiraling down to the barn floor, tentativly approaching and takin the bowl. Rachel looks the Lamia over, "Hmm, all four limbs look functional, judging by these joints I'd mistake you for an Echidna if the rest of you didn't say other wise. Not sure how GiMod pulled this off, but its still off the catalogue stuff. Why the hell are you wearing a correction's facility shock collar though?"

   She paces around to the front, "This eye structure is unusual, nothing illegal, but usually see it in Insectoid builds not reptilian ones; was popular like ten years ago I hear, but some owners got their Double M's corrective surgery after it either creeped them out or it seemed to cause depth perception problems for the units."

   The Lamia has finished the chicken and is licking the bowl clean. Its long prehensile tongue swirling around inside the rim of the bowl. Rachel blushes watching this before taking a deep breath, "Okay, so your tongue works that's good; and..."

   It drops the bowl and looks Rachel up and down getting her attention. It looks at Rachel and over at the beam behind her with the magazine on it. Rachel turns, the nail is holding up the paper picture of some brunette model with big tits in a tiny bikini. Rachel feels the Lamia slither up close behind her, and its hands raising up to her hips.

   "Woah," says Rachel spinning out from between its slowly rising arms and spotting its long red erection.

   "Woah, again," says Rachel eyeing it, "Um.."

   She tilts her head and looks around, "Forgot about this difference between your lines and the ones I work on...normally...don't ask policy when someone wants extra warm and soft but..."

   The Lamia is breathing heavy and heaving its body slightly, like its standing by for fucking.

   "Damn," says Rachel almost taking a step forward and eyeing those scale bikini design breasts, that waist with the scales up the sides of the curves.

   "Dad's love doll," she suddenly says before her foot can land forwad, "right...yeah...sorry but, um...can't."

   She bites her lip eyeing the curvy snake woman before her sporting a large cock, "But...yeah, it would be too weird."

   She backs up out of the barn, flustered. As she walks towards the front door of the house however she sees her father running from the house waving his large remote in the air screaming for her to run over to him.

   "What's the matter?" asks Rachel walking over.

  The old man has to stop and pant, short of breath, Rob is close behind him but only *shrugs* when Rachel looks at him. Their father raises the remote in the air and screams back at the barn, "You stay the fuck back hear me!"

  The Lamia is peeking from the barn, its cock tucked away now, but it is glaring at the remote.

  "Quickly," says their father trying to push Rachel, to which the Lamia *hisses*, the old man placing himself between her and it screaming, "I said stay back! I will shock you, you hear me! Stay righ the fuck right there!"

   He keeps gesturing with his hands for them to move into the house as he backs up behind them.

  After reaching the other side of the invisible fence domes and going through the front door, the old man asks, "Did it hurt you?"

   "What?" asks Rachel, "Of course not. I was checking out your investment....seriously dad If you're trying to hide it you arn't doing a good job, that is not a legal civilian model. You had to know..."

  "I know all that!" he suddenly screams. A loud hiss from outside drawing their attention, and a feminine *scream* as the Lamia tries to cross the invisible fence.

   "I warned you didn't I you ugly monster!" shouts the man.

  "Okay that's enough," says Rachel, "that's cruelty, artificial or not..."

  "It. IS. A. Monster." growls the old man pulling the remote away from Rachel's reaching hands.

   "Oh don't even tell me," says Rachel, "not this bit again,"

   The old man gives her a confused look as does Rob, "let me guess, you got swindled into buying a large predatory model, not realizing that they have predatory instincts. You know I work for Comfort Companions of Mars right? I see this all the time, someone wants a jaguar, a lion, a tiger, a crocodile; they don't spring for the vegetarian model because they want it to be authentic...not realizing that just because it can't attack a person doesn't mean it won't go after livestock or other pets. They're predators for crying out loud dad, these may have some human qualities but they are big reptilian bio-androids with predatory behavior models."

   Rob *chuckles*, "Seriously dad, did you get spooked by it? Its just a meat robot. It can't hurt you,"

  The old man lifts up his shirt revealing three large scars.

   "Intentionally," adds Rob, "Not to pry but getting a little too frisky and scratched because you wanted all these sharp points and rough scales...what I have a client on Freya with a Tauren and a spiky lizard girl, guy told me has to wear a leather get up thanks to putting all those sharp hoof claws, lizard nails, horns, and spikes...honestly surprised just how openly they talk...abiut.."

  "I never fucked that thing," growls the old man.

  Rob and Rachel look at each other as Rachel looks out the front door, the Lamia is *standing* there glaring at the door, it looks over at her and gives a very happy smile and tongue flick and tries to get closer to the door, holding its head back and the collar, pointing at it, and then gesturing with its upper right hand to its lower left hand like pushing buttons. Rachel looks back, her father is holding the remote in his left hand, has been the whole time, never had the thing far from him the whole time since yesterday.

   Rachel *sighs*, "Okay dad, I think you better tell us everything; this is what you wanted us to see when we came out here I take it. So start from the beginning."