by Livia Bourne
Wails of agony came from her as she fought for her freedom, flopping at the end of her chains like a fish on the end of a fishing hook. The doctor stepped back far enough so he wouldn’t be kicked by her thrashing just before nodding to another guard standing off to the side of the stage.
Things went from bad to worse as the guard reached to remove the dreaded punishment whip all the Trakonians carried with them at all times—ready to torture at a moment’s notice.
The whip snapped against the tender skin of the crying female with amazing precision. He knew her screams would haunt him should he manage to escape the dire situation they were in. His anger only grew worse as Lord Trakon further humiliated the poor female by taunting her. “Female—beg to be fucked and you will be spared the whip. Refuse, and your body will be raw and bleeding by the time your warriors pierce you.”
Khalil admired her courage as she screamed, “Fuck you!” The jeering crowd loved the bold drama, and cheered the anguished cry of the female as the whip fell several times in fast succession.
“I will ask you again. Beg to be fucked and you will be spared.”
She wasn’t as quick this time, but she repeated her “Fuck you,” reply nonetheless.
Khalil glanced over at Zahara and saw the terror on her face as she watched what would certainly be happening to her next. He wanted to tell her that as brave as the woman being whipped was, she was being foolish. As horrific as being raped was, as a realist, there was nothing that was going to stop it from happening. His only hope at this point was that the remaining Alphas would be stronger than the unfortunate dead soldiers who had gone first.
The smell of synthetic slick reached his nose just as the female broke down—overwhelmed by the pain and drugs. She was producing even more of the fake omega juice than her predecessor, giving Khalil an indication of the depth of her artificial heat cycle.
He was grateful the whip-wielding enemy recognized the strung-up female was beyond verbalization. The torturer lowered his whip and took his own cock in hand instead, stroking it wildly as he took deep breaths of the heavenly near-omega aroma. Only a true Alpha could distinguish between the artificial and real omega smell.
When the guards approached Thrash and Akon’s cage next, he shouted to his number two. “You must fight the drug! Find a way to work together—not against each other!”
Thrash didn’t acknowledge, too busy struggling against his bonds. With any luck, the drugs would not have the same effect on the warrior with some Trakonian blood flowing in his veins. That, combined with his number two’s deep sense of honor, gave Khalil hope that his friend might end his time center stage alive, unlike the junior warriors before them.
By the time the guards released the Alphas, the beta female strung up and waiting was humping her hips into the air. Taller than her predecessor, the female’s toes barely touched the stage, but it was enough leverage for her to thrust her ass back and forth, frantically fucking an imaginary partner.
The second Akon was free, he beelined it to the stage, more than happy to accommodate her desperation. Khalil watched as his warrior buried his rock-like rod deep into the slick pussy in one thrust, spearing her so hard her toes left the ground as he lifted her up. The female’s head lolled back as she wrapped her legs around Akon’s waist, frantically humping against him as he squeezed her heat-soaked breasts.
The rutting was rudimentary, yet it produced so much heat-contaminated slick that Khalil began to lose control of his own physical reaction. He hadn’t even been drugged yet and he could feel himself slipping into the rut—devolving to the primal mating machine his enemy intended. If he struggled now, how would he be able to maintain control when it was Zahara Sterling writhing in pain before him? He’d wanted to mount her from the moment he’d seen her from a distance. How was he supposed to resist her under these conditions?
He admired Thrash’s control as the mammoth warrior paced the stage looking like a madman. The only indication the spectator’s had that the Heat in his bloodstream was having any impact on him was his own fist pumping his shaft wildly as he watched Akon and the beta mating.
Only when Akon seemed to lose control and begin strangling the female in heat did Thrash step in to take action. Instead of fighting his friend, however, Thrash took up a position behind Akon and proceeded to wrap his long fingers around Akon’s neck. The Alpha struggled wildly trying to shrug off Thrash while maintaining his pumping action.
Khalil recognized his second’s use of an evasive maneuver their squad had practiced many times in training. Thrash was rendering his comrade unconscious by cutting off his air supply, but would stop shy of causing lasting damage. As the warrior’s air ran out, he started to slump to the floor. A gush of slick spilled from the female’s stretched pussy as Akon’s rod inside her was removed.
It was a testament to Thrash’s honor that he was able to maintain control enough to slowly lower his friend’s unconscious body to the soiled floor of the stage. Even from a distance, Khalil was relieved to see the chest of the warrior expanding as he continued to breathe—gratefully he was no longer awake and tortured by the Heat.
“Do not fear me. I will not defile you, female,” Thrash announced. The jeers of the sadistic spectators were expected, but the snarl of anger from the strung-up woman in artificial heat was a surprise.
Gone was her bravado from before as she screamed at Thrash, “Fuck me!”
“I will not.”
“Just do it. I need your cock more than I need air,” she grunted.
“It is the drugs. Your need will pass.”
She growled an animalistic howl of agony as the weaponized drugs ravaged her body. Khalil wasn’t sure he would be maintaining control as well as his number two had he been center stage. That thought horrified him, knowing it wouldn’t be long before it would be the beta with the shimmering hair and eyes begging to be fucked. He wasn’t sure he would be able to resist.
Lord Trakon baited Thrash. “You may consider yourself the victor by resisting sinking your cock into the female, but your control is proving something much more important to me. You deny it, but the Trakonian blood coursing through your veins is powerful enough to help you reject the urge to mate. Join us. Pledge your loyalty to Trakonia and I will let you live.”
Knowing the warrior as he did, Khalil noticed Thrash had begun to tremble under the weight of his denied need. Lord Trakon and the entertained crowd waited, watching for several long minutes while Thrash struggled against the drugs in his system and the female in heat begged him to violate her.
Only when she began to thrash so hard in her chains that her wrists began to bleed did Thrash finally approach her. He hugged her tight, lifting the weight of her body off her bleeding wrists, but like the male before him, she wrapped her legs around his waist, humping her spasming cunt against his engorged tool smashed between their bodies.
Thrash grunted out a warning. “Cease your actions, female, or I will not be able to maintain my control.”
“Fuck your control! Fill me!”
Even without the drugs in his system, Khalil would have been hard pressed to maintain his honor, so he was not surprised when Thrash finally lifted her body just enough to impale her on his massive rod. Like the rest of his body, Thrash’s manhood was Trakonian-sized as well, drawing a blood-curdling scream from the female flailing wildly as she was speared again and again.
Lord Trakon’s laughter spurred the crowd to shout victoriously as they enjoyed the downfall of their enemy’s honor. From his angle, Khalil had a front row seat to the scowl of anguish on his friend’s face as he lifted the small female as if she were weightless, using her drug-filled body as a sex machine, pistoning her at a hard and fast pace.
The enemy had not said it, but Khalil suspected that in addition to putting its victims into an artificial heat, the Heat Fragment also had the diabolical ability to stave off true sexual satisfaction. As the spectacle center-stage went on and on with no shouts of satisfied climax, the
crowd started heckling Thrash for not being able to satisfy the victim.
Onyx leaned in to talk against Khalil’s ear to be heard over the shouts of the crowd. “As horrifying as this is, he is doing well to waste as much time as possible. Every minute that passes, we are a minute closer to the rescue team arriving.”
“I hope you’re right. I don’t see how this will end well for any of us without their arrival.”
It was Avincent who spoke next. “I have hopes that like with the Freeze Fragment, I might have a small immunity to the Heat drug.”
Khalil answered. “We can only hope that will be true. But no matter, we must all pledge to maintain enough control that we do not hurt each other or the female. It will be foolish to assume we’ll be able to resist the drug’s effect completely, but all will be lost if we turn to violence against each other.”
“If we work in concert, we might be able to stay alive long enough to be rescued,” Onyx agreed.
The sound of Thrash roaring a climax drew their attention back to center stage. Despite his completion, his pounding of the female continued. Her head had fallen forward onto Thrash’s shoulder as she mumbled unintelligible encouragement for him to continue.
Around the arena, Khalil heard their enemy taking bets on how long the assault could continue before the female was rubbed raw and bleeding. Others shouted to the whip-master, daring him to resume whipping both of the captives on stage as they mated.
And more than once a piercing scream was heard from the stands as the aggressive Trakonians became desperate enough to rape and torture that they picked out one of the smaller or weaker males among them—pinning them down and lining up to take turns raping the anal cavity of the unlucky enemy.
The sights and sounds of violent debauchery permeated every inch of the stadium. Trying to block it out, he returned his attention to Zahara. Her unique shimmering hair was a mess, hanging askew. Even from the opposite side of the caged stage, he could see the lines of drool spilling from the corners of her mouth. He felt like an asshole wishing it was his cock filling her throat instead of the metal rod. The tears in her eyes made her look so innocent and helpless, making him all the more desperate to protect her from any more harm.
After what seemed like an eternity, Thrash finally fell to his knees—lines of white seed spraying from his cock like a hose. What looked like liters of slick poured from the female’s cunt to the stage floor as she hung limp from the chains holding her captive. Each of them gasped for breaths as they tried to recover from the marathon sex act they’d performed for the audience.
Lord Trakon nodded to the guards still standing near by and they rushed forward to secure Thrash in chains once again before he could regain his strength. Once he was secured to rings in the stone floor, the whip-master went back to work, alternating between strikes against the sobbing female and the roaring Thrash.
“I am feeling generous tonight. If either of you are still alive after receiving twenty lashes with the whip, I will let you live.”
Their leader’s declaration was met with jeers from the crowd and angry curses from Thrash. If he’d had the use of his arms, Khalil would have thrown his hands over his ears to block out the horrifying sounds of torture. As it was, he was forced to endure through each agonizing stroke of leather on skin until the last lash had been delivered and by some miracle, both Thrash and the female survived.
It was Onyx who observed, “It is good that they are moving them to the cage together instead of separating them in some remote area of moon. This way they are nearby for the rescue.”
Avincent added, “I have salve that will help them fight infection and pain. It’s onboard the Viper.”
“Then we need to get back there, don’t we?” Khalil interjected.
Too quickly, the guards had cleaned up the stage enough for the third and final act of the show to begin. With dread, Khalil watched them approach Zahara’s cage, wheeling her closer to the platform before opening the cage door and roughly removing the rods shoved in at either end.
She coughed and sputtered as they dragged her up the stairs. As they approached the wooden restraining post she fought to be free. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in speed and agility. He felt an odd pride as she managed to break free and take off running towards the door of the enclosed stage.
Khalil called out a warning to her as he saw one of the guards with a stunner lifting his weapon, prepared to shoot her down. It was only by luck that she was stopped and dragged back to the stage before she’d been shot dead, yet if he were honest, perhaps death would have been preferable to what she was about to endure.
Like the females before her, Zahara was chained to the post, her arms wide and her feet nowhere near touching the floor. She winced with pain as the weight of her lithe body pulled on her shoulders.
Her fear was palpable as she tracked the doctor approaching, his long needle in hand. Khalil cheered when she succeeded in kicking the drug out of the doctor’s hand, sending the needle several feet away to the stage floor.
The whip-master didn’t even wait for Lord Trakon to instruct him. He lifted his whip and snapped it against Zahara’s back. He felt her scream in his bones, hating the impotency of his situation.
I know you’re brave, little spitfire, but you’re only making things worse.
Their eyes met as he finished his thought. He tried to send her comfort, willing her to focus on him instead of what the doctor was about to do. It was as if she’d heard him as she maintained their visual connection as the needle penetrated her, delivering the dreaded Heat.
Zahara’s face contorted with pain as tears pooled in her unique eyes before spilling down her cheeks. How he longed to reach out and comfort her—to wipe those tears away, but it wasn’t to be. He watched with dread as her eyes widened, panicking as the fire snaked through her veins, spreading pain in its wake. Her breaths turned to pants as she tried to suck in enough air.
The doctor was back with his glove covered in the remaining Heat cream. Unlike his previous applications to the restrained female’s pussies, this time he went around behind Zahara as he nodded at one of the nearby guards to come and assist him. With dread, Khalil watched the enemy folding Zahara at the waist, lifting her bottom high so the doctor could better apply the Heat deep in her anus.
Her piercing scream as the fire burned her from the inside out would haunt him forever. Next to him, Onyx and Avincent fought against their chains, knowing they could not free themselves, but as desperate as himself to help the innocent beta. All three warriors could not stop the doctor from applying the remaining cream to the folds of her pussy before nodding to the guard to let her hang down again.
Her moans of agony got the crowd cheering. Zahara’s head fell forward limply as if she might be close to losing consciousness. It would be a blessing if she could just faint and miss what was about to happen to her, but it was not to be. She threw her head back, releasing another cry of pain so loud her voice cracked. Unlike the two previous victims, Zahara began to convulse, her body shaking wildly as she flailed. Within minutes, she was covered with perspiration.
The doctor had refilled his needle and was approaching the men’s cage. This was it. He was determined to fight the drug’s effect to ensure he’d live long enough to kill each and every one of the Trakonians on this wretched moon.
Avincent received the first dose of Heat, cursing the Trakonian doctor for using his medical knowledge to do harm instead of good.
Onyx was next, not even flinching as the fire entered his veins. Within seconds, Khalil sensed his friend was losing the battle already as his eyes turned black and rolled back into his head as he roared in pain.
Khalil looked back at Zahara, praying he would not lose control and truly hurt her. It was just as the needle punctured his skin to deliver the drug that a gush of slick fell from between her legs, splashing the floor below her and he felt the first burst of flames in his blood as it hit him. The aroma wafting to him was unlike
any he’d smelled in his life. It was as if… no. It had to be the magic of the drugs. It could not be.
Khalil shook his head to get the thought out of his mind. It would only make things worse for all of them if he didn’t purge the thought before he lost himself to the fever. While he might try to control his brain, he found his body was another story. His cock turned to stone, recognizing the aroma for what it was.
He shook his head, fighting off the thought, but the smell now surrounded them, pulling him in and making it impossible to control his reaction.
As the guards prepared to open the gates and turn the three of them loose, Khalil fought to verbalize his command.
“She. Is. Mine.”
Onyx answered by lifting his leg, attempting to kick his commanding officer. It was not a good sign of his first officer’s control.
But it was Avincent who scared Khalil the most when he calmly said the words Khalil had hoped were not true.
“Impossible… We’re in so much trouble. She is a true omega.”
The End… for now.
Stay tuned for the next episode in the Caged Alpha series, Alpha’s Torture. Coming soon.
The Caged Alpha Series Will Continue!
I promise not to leave you hanging for too long for the next episode in the series. There are three more books planned and a possible spin off:
Book One: Alpha’s Capture (you just read this)
Book Two: Alpha’s Torture
Book Three: Alpha’s Rescue
Book Four: Alpha’s Revenge
In the meantime, while you wait, head over to check out the Black Light Series, the contemporary BDSM series created by Livia Grant and Jennifer Bene and published by Black Collar Press.
I suggest starting with Infamous Love, the prequel, that is a unique M/m/f menage love story.
