Born Captive

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Born Captive Page 2

by Penelope Woods


  Why the fuck not?

  As he tightened his fist around his cock, the doctor’s bottom lip turned into a sharp grin. His fingers smudged her labia. “You don’t say a word,” he grunted.

  Wren closed her eyes and noticed the rising, burning sensation from the tight cuffs clasped around her wrists. The metal dug into her wrists quite painfully. The sooner it was over, the better.

  Bracing herself, Wren imagined herself in her father’s garden. The bright sunlight brushed against her flowing hair. Peace.

  “She’s mine.”

  Wren opened her eyes to a hunched alpha, pistol in hand, unwavering. Without warning, his finger curled around the trigger.

  Two pulls, faster than lightning, and the doctor’s head exploded onto the wall in front of her.

  The alpha lowered his weapon. “My turn, bitch.”

  Chapter Two

  Cassian gazed at the row of nude women lying in cryogenic chambers. The cold served to keep their bodies in shape. The gas left their minds docile and cavities dilated for him. There was no need to tease and toy their holes open like a freshly harvested oyster. He could suck the slick from between their legs whenever he felt the urge.

  “The copies are a grand display of what we can achieve.”

  Fingers held tight around the glowing chamber of one clone, Cassian realized the error of his words. They would be a grand display. Someday, when he got the coding down.

  Leaning forward, the leader hissed, “The eyes… they have grown in wrong on this bitch.”

  They are her. Yet, so different. So very fucking wrong.

  When the cities succumbed to the brutal force of the Ouroboros, they’d lifted the ban on the slave trade, and the industry was born. Cassian had his hand in every sector. The latest venture, Omega Unlimited, a 24/7 nightclub in the heart of the bustling city of Dagon made most of his fortune these days. But, these days, his mind his mind was set on one cunt.

  Subject EC23. But I call her Wren.

  Her scent was ripe like an old, tainted peach. Unlike most of the slaves, her hymen was intact. She was a prize worth saving, and the future vessel of his legacy. When she reached the right age, he would crack her open and bask in her yolk.

  When she was young, he’d delicately copied her code. He wasn’t a scientist, but he followed each and every minute instruction. Harvesting her data, Cassian took what he needed and sent the concubine to a facility in the south for constant monitoring. She was to wait for him until ready to pluck. Then he would lunge at the chance to tear her hymen and store his seed safely for the coming winter.

  “I have deprived myself of her for too long,” Cassian whispered.

  A woman’s voice stole his bearing, sending shivers down his spine. “You will find her.”

  Cassian hunched forward and ground his teeth. “I… love her.”

  “You have her replicas.”

  Groaning, he fixed his face on the woman behind the glass of the lustrous freezer. “Don’t toy with me. They are not as glamourous as her.”

  “They take it the same.”

  Maybe. Cassian didn’t know. When they woke from their induced slumbers, the copies always gagged in paralyzing horror. Deep facial scars and burns from raids of yonder littered his face like the apocalypse. His body, tormented with the clawing of his victims, stood tall like a black mamba.

  Still, whenever he inserted his mass of flesh and overgrown cartilage into a copy’s hole, he had to pretend they weren’t cold. It was like ruining a freshly dead corpse. Still worthwhile, but the slick didn’t produce as heavily as the feral ones on the outside.

  He unsheathed his cock from a saggy pile of foreskin bundled against his pelvis. The bone, thick as redwood, scythed into the air. Sore and blooming, the head dripped lubricant in preparation.

  Cassian felt his appetite overtake him. “I’m ready for the copy now, Mother.”

  There would be no screaming. Not even the faintest moan. Cassian had perfected blocking out the slithering crawling tongues inside his head. He was sure to block out hers, too.

  Throat agape, his voice was hollow and disturbed. “Help me, Momma,” he whispered.

  Leaning back, Cassian closed his eyes and remembered the lakes of Varikar. The sandbank glittered with their takings’ blood. The omegas they found there were prized above the rest. All slaughtered. There was no reason except to bleed them dry. Cassian took each act to be a message to God.

  Forsake us. This world is on its last chapter.

  During that horrible raid, the air stung Cassian’s eyes, salty and rich with the new death. Bundled before him like jerking planks of drained sacks, the women had the complexion of stillborn baby birds. As he watched their hearts die out, he’d felt a sense of pride overwhelm him.

  He had inhaled the last scents of those slaves. Some of them might have been betas—unable to procreate. Disgusting beasts with no purpose. They deserved to die, too. Their bodies dictated the sentence.

  On that day, the sand beneath the slave traders’ feet had flooded with red. A river of hope, Cassian had thought.

  Cassian felt his mother’s hand close around his shoulder, waking him from his peaceful vision. He swallowed and opened his eyes to a small chalice. Taking hold of the golden stem, he quickly drank, choking on the bitter, dark liquid.

  Warmth flowed through his cheeks and chest. He let out a sharp cough and inhaled. “You spiked my drink.”

  The elderly hand wrestled the chalice away from his fingers. “Only with the necessary combination of chemicals to keep your knot hard and strong,” she said.

  He refused to look at her, though he would never question her right to intervene. He could feel the chemicals running through his cock, straining the shaft outward.

  “I can feel it now,” he moaned.

  The dying woman calmly smiled. She would taunt him, knowing his anger brought more seed out of him. “Your empire’s growth is impressive. Soon, no one will be able to challenge you,” she whispered.

  Cassian shuddered and shot an angry glance at the silent clones. “Are you trying to enrage me? The girl is gone,” he said. “I listened to your guidance!”

  He felt her turn his body to face the sleeping clone. A dark crown hung around his skull. “Don’t worry about Vash’s wrongdoings. He will be found and punished for taking the omega.” Her voice wavered with age. “Open the copy up, instead. You haven’t tried her yet. She looks absolutely scrumptious.”

  “Vash.” Cassian gagged. “If he gets his hands on a cure, he will become too powerful.”

  Her tone was poised to excite him. “I told you he would turn on you,” she said. “Don’t allow your weakness to leverage control.”

  His mother’s frail hands typed in the code on the freezer. With a hollow cry, the pod opened, clean and circling with vapor. He hated opening the freezers—it disturbed the process and drained the hogs’ overall life expectancy. Worst of all, the pods reminded him of his own mortality, and what he had already begun to lose.

  Cassian winced and jerked his hand around his shaft. Raking his fingers into the meaty flesh, he groaned in sexual agony. “He took her. My own brother. I should have known.”

  Leaning over the botched copy of Wren, he forced her awake with a few quick blows to the cheek. As her eyes expanded in horror, she started to scream. Holding her bruised face, he roared beside her like a twisted, laughing beast.

  Pinching his fingers around her ear, he shoved her to the ground. He didn’t always entertain the urge to kill the clones, unless he felt especially enraged.

  They would all have to die.

  “Guide me, Mother.”

  He tilted his neck forward with inhuman delight as he inserted his weighty tusk inside the whore’s dilated hole. He hammered a fist against her nose until she let out a whimper that satisfied his ears.

  They were all brain-dead. Their existence held no glory. Their broken coding only magnified his failure.

  His mother giggled and took a huff of oxygen fr
om her tank. “Take your power back.”

  He felt strength swell within his core. A short rush of anger forced his palm around the clone’s air pipe. Listening to her choked gasps, he felt his aching cock bob against her parted, cold lips. Cassian painted the walls of her cavernous womb with his off-color seed. The alpha’s musk began to flood the room with his stench.

  Jaw open, he swung his body forward and felt it vibrate with painful orgasm. His eyes went hazy, knot expanding his spilling cock. The polished and pockmarked cock vibrated, and he prepared to knot her with confidence. But before he could drive into her icy uterus, stiffness set in his muscles like a dull pebble between his legs. He collapsed onto the floor, choking on air.

  He was losing his ability. Unable to knot, he could never have her. Not really.

  Because of time’s cruel fate, he would have to destroy them all. He’d kill every last omega… except her.

  Once he produced the perfect copy, he could rebuild things the right way. She was the answer to everything, and Vash was the one thing in the way.

  “I will cut my brother’s throat,” he said.

  Chapter Three

  “Set her down and leave the room. I want my time with the dog.”

  Vash casually glanced at the door of the facility and swallowed. He could hear the light whimpers of the women in the other rooms, forcing him to briefly wonder about their maddening smells of flesh and mouthwatering spoils.

  Thank fuck I found her this time.

  The alpha’s face distorted. “I can taste her already, the abhorrent stench like aged cheese. I can only imagine the mess I will make of her nest,” he said aloud.

  The omega he’d stolen had to fit the others’ needs, but it was his right to have the first rip to send her screaming in the throes of paralyzing pain. After all, he was the one who’d paid off the guards, and torn apart most of the men.

  Gripping his scent kit, Vash looked away from the gaping wound on his abdomen and guided the sturdy copper straw out from the box. Wincing, he coughed a speck of blood.

  He never should have left the trader barracks. As horrible as that hellhole was, the outside was worse. Weak with illness, Vash gazed at his prize, understanding now how difficult this might end up being.

  Still, a thought piqued his interest.

  Killian lugged the woman into the back corner of the room and dropped her on her shoulder. His strong, husky body covered her like a monster. He kissed her thighs with his thick lips, growling as her sweetness reached his tongue.

  Wren closed her eyes.

  “Up on your feet,” he said, securing the necessary table space to get the injection and genetic sample kits ready.

  Wren scooted back, palms against the wall. When Vash realized her adrenaline was peaking, he sighed. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to die anyway,” he said.

  Feeling the clawing heaviness of his stored-up seed, Vash shifted and took a seething breath. She was wasting his precious time.

  After he ruined the whore, he’d collect a sample for his sensory kit. Knowing he could keep her scent longer filled him with a lasting pleasure. In case she broke under his weight, he’d have something to remember her by.

  “H-H-How did you get in the facility? A-Alphas aren’t supposed to—”

  Vash reached into his jacket, observing with delight as she winced. Thick coins of gold fell from his palm onto the floor below him. “Chips,” he said. “People will do anything for them.”

  “Chii—?”

  Vash sensed that a daughter’s ripe cunt came with more problems than it was worth. In the barren fields outside of the city, nothing was sacred. They kept her like a dog, fed her chemicals to keep her asleep, and made sure to whisper sweet nightmares into her ear canals.

  “Oh, that’s right. They don’t teach you anything, do they?” Vash thought aloud.

  Vash’s second in the pack was Lucas. A tall and built alpha, he extended his palm around Wren’s small chin. His fingers were tough, and tattoos of holy verses trailed down his protruding forearms. “The war is almost over, honey.”

  Vash shielded his eyes from the girl, wheezing as he inhaled deeply. “They’ll make the drop on Dagon any day now.”

  “The final stand, huh?” Lucas winked.

  Vash jerked his head forward and painfully swallowed. His mouth was dryer than usual, and no source of water could quench his thirst. He was running out of time. “This funny to you?”

  He circled the men before pounding his knuckles against the wall. “Do you remember the battle of Varikar? The carnage we brought… it was an unprecedented level of depravity. We deformed those men and women.”

  Wren quickly interjected, “Is that what happened to you?”

  Somehow, Vash found the strength to ignore her. Had his faculties not have been under considerable duress, he would have laid her out flat. He knew how he looked: Weak. On the last threads of life. But when he could find the serum, he could regain the last bit of strength he’d need to tear her ass apart.

  “I remember,” Lucas said, solemnly. “But that’s just how it is.”

  “Yes,” Vash said in passing thought.

  The rounded edges of the slave girl’s hips sent Vash into a dizzying frenzy. He didn’t blame the slut’s guards for asking for more chips. She was worth more than they requested. An omega like her could sustain ten men, let alone three.

  Killian leaned against the wall and stared at her in the same gawking fashion. He was shorter than the other two but entirely capable of enacting submission. There was no stopping Wren’s beating heart as the trio loomed over her exposed body.

  “Take her,” Killian said. “When you do, I’ll lick her clean, and then we can rid ourselves of our desire.”

  Her whimper carried with the wind, low and devoid of anything Vash gave a fuck about.

  Angry, Vash turned. “Not yet. She’s as fresh as a blooming flower.”

  “A virgin?” Lucas asked, swiveling his gold rings around his fingers while grinning.

  “Is she fertile?” Killian asked.

  “Smell for yourself,” Vash said. He couldn’t get his mind off of how disgustingly appetizing she was. “I knew I’d find you,” Vash said, glancing at his prize.

  Wren’s mouth was noticeably dry. “Who are you beasts?”

  Vash drooled. “Slippery taste,” he reflected.

  “She’s not yours,” Killian said. “She is ours.”

  Clenching his jaw, Vash drove his hands forward. “It was my chips that got us in here. I saved her life.”

  Both Killian and Lucas angrily stepped forward, unsheathing their large, meaty cocks into their hands. Though they all had a right to her as pack, Vash was in charge of this operation.

  But Vash was dying. Both Killian and Lucas had remarked on his complexion before they entered the gates of the dome. The silent agreement showed in their eyes. If Vash passed, they’d have her over his body.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you to have her,” Killian said. “It’s just…”

  “He wants to know the rules of the taking,” Lucas said.

  Vash bit down, flinching once the rich iron taste flooded his mouth. “We have to be careful. They’ll be scanning areas for more bodies,” Vash said. “I want you to stand guard outside the facility.”

  Killian ran his weathered palm over his shaved head. He sighed. “You won’t take her without us?”

  “Who are you kidding? Of course he will,” Lucas said.

  Vash shook his head. “No. Our fluids must mix for this to work,” he said. “The slut is for all of us…”

  Lucas boomed with satisfaction, bending to curl his fingers around Wren’s chin. He pressed until his fingers left marks. A horrid cry escaped her raspberry lips. When he let go, she crumpled to the floor like a withered butterfly.

  “An actor,” Lucas remarked.

  “All dogs take some training,” Vash lowered his voice. The knowledge he had gathered was far superior to theirs. Months of gath
ering evidence had led him here, and finally, he had reached the filthy pig.

  “Together,” he hissed. “I won’t forget what I promised you both. Now, leave me with the door closed. I need to inspect her.”

  Vash calmly waited as the alphas stepped past him. Pausing before he exited the front, Killian clasped his hand against his shoulder blade, twisting slightly. “We made a deal.”

  Vash nodded. “Yes, we did.”

  As the door shut, he gingerly stepped over the drooling wench, heel landing against a cracked picture frame. He sniffed the air wildly, mouth open and dripping thick globs of saliva onto her exposed tits.

  “You,” Vash muttered. “Fucking whore, omega. I bought you. Now, say something. Look at me!”

  The woman finally opened her eyes.

  “Filthy animal,” he whispered.

  After no movement, Vash huffed and shuddered back.

  Is she fucking brain dead? Vash expected a reaction, and when he received none, the sting of embarrassment enraged him.

  Slowly rising to her feet, the woman’s eyes frantically searched for an escape. Vash dug his hand into the roots of her hair and tweaked it into a twisted knot. He brought her close to him and lowered her to the floor, carefully inspecting her ass.

  “Mmhm,” Vash grunted, nostrils erratically flairing.

  Vash hungrily seized on the sight of her pouty lips, now defined by the shadows of the room. The flowing curtains of her youth weren’t one bit subtle, the soaking layers of flesh, already open for him. He could smell the urine that left a trail of wetness down her thighs.

  “You’re scared?” he asked. “No, no. Sweet piggy-poo. You’ll enjoy this.”

  As he watched her scurry away, he cornered her. Soon, her tears strained the ducts of her eyes. Mostly, he was reminded of the small rodents he killed in the battles the week before. The flash memory of their dark blood disgusted him. The horrors of small animals were something catastrophic.

  The carriers of death and disease must be put to rest.

 

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