The men’s bodies turned to stone. She could feel their heads bobbing against her lips. She imagined seeing the ripples of their cocks throb underneath her skin like large parasites.
“Don’t knot. We’ll save her for later.”
Wren’s heart sank to her twisted ankles. She’d convinced herself they would breed first and take care of her later. She was special. She’d thought wrong.
Vash lurched forward and pinched against her cheeks. “Precious,” he whispered.
“Yes?” Wren asked, obedient in nature.
As soon as she could sense the rush of pleasure tremor into his core, he spilled forth a stream of seed. She felt the hot air of sex hit the back of her palette. “Oh, Precious,” he moaned. “Oh, it feels… heavenly.”
Lucas let out a shrill, boiling cry, and Killian whooped like an ape. They blew pearls of cum into her belly, sliding out like two tentacles and draining the rest onto her face and tongue. None of her tragic body would go untouched in the binding nature of their cum.
Their knots swelled and extracted from the skin, but the alphas didn’t allow for the bond to fasten. Instead, they pulled out and finally let her body go.
“Please… knot me,” Wren pleaded.
The men grinned and snickered. “Best left for another time,” Vash said.
The alphas turned on the lights and opened the door. Their panting, wild-eyed faces stared at her with drained disgust. As she looked up with tears in her eyes, she swallowed more of their filth down, panting.
When they filled her, they left her empty. But the men threw her a towel. “Clean up, Precious. Tomorrow is right around the corner,” Lucas taunted.
Chapter Seven
“Precious…”
Each day, the tireless coaxing of their pleased voices woke her from her madness. Her new captors kept her fed, even if it was from their scraps, and she was well hydrated to produce more slick.
Somehow, she had managed to keep up hope that she’d soon see the light of day again. But the days passed with the same brutal treatment as before. When they left her like a goggling, staring puppet, they’d turn the light on her. Eventually, they gave her a plastic mirror. She was to face herself, as horrible as her image looked.
“Precious.”
“No more,” she begged. The slave crawled on the floor, twisting like a serpent. “I can’t take it. I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Vash led the pack with a ruining grin. Seed dribbled off the crown of his head as he teased his power against her walls. Pumping one last time, he drained himself of his contempt.
Wren shot her eyes toward the broken entrance between her legs. Was this what being a woman felt like?
“Up here,” he said. Her eyes rose to meet his. “Now you can see me for who I am.”
Wretched. Vile. Forgotten.
Yes, Wren saw him. And when the days no longer felt like time passing, she gazed at all three of them in silent wonder. Now, they were all she had. Similarly, she was their treasure.
“We must talk about the next step,” Vash said, one night after delivering her slop.
Acting as their silent servant, Wren kept hushed. Vash eyed her with calm serenity. “Precious, are you tired? Do you want to come lie with us?”
She nodded faster than she thought possible. “Yes. I’m so tired,” she said.
At first, she took it for a cruel joke. But when the alpha did not flinch at the recognition of his offer, she held her breath.
“Precious, why do you look at me with fear? Do you not trust that I can provide for you?”
They’d broken her well enough. Turned her into a mound of wet clay. They’d molded her into an obedient sculpture, and now they were offering her gifts?
Her heart rushed with endorphins. She wanted him to know that she thought everything through. She would put her safety in their hands.