by Addison Cain
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t face these men.
Forehead back to kneecaps, Morgaine breathed slow and deep, closed out the world around her, and tried her damnedest not to hear the males discussing her physical traits, her scent, the shade of her golden hair or the things they thought might cheer her—things that were all highly sexual in nature.
Where tears should have warned them off, it seemed it only made them desire her more.
A debate began on whether her first mating should be from behind so she would know the strength of her Alpha. Or, if she should be laid down in her nest and fucked from the front, where she might see and taste the male who would own her.
All agreed she should not be allowed to straddle an engorged Alpha cock—that was an honor she would have to earn.
More than one argued vehemently that her first time should be under the care of at least three males. That way they could keep her sticky with seed, stuff her full of cock, and break her in until exhaustion forced her to sleep. Three days of constant fucking would set her right… maybe more if she resisted.
The idea was atrocious.
Slumping down to the cold floor, Morgaine curled into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut until she saw spots.
She could not find it in her heart to care that the panel of her skirt would not cover her, that the men were shifting around her enclosure to glimpse whatever might be seen of her sex.
The males made a game of it—a series of growls projecting from one Alpha to the next to see who might get her pussy to twitch and leak a drop of slick first.
Not all calls were successful, but some did inspire the desired outcome. And there was nothing Morgaine could do to stop the inevitable, horrible, trickling response.
“Look at that pretty slit, all glossed and hungry. Do you want a cock, Omega? I can’t wait to watch your first knotting.”
Silently sobbing into her hands, mortified that something so personal would be broadcasted for the entire ship to view, Morgaine tried her damnedest to shut them out. She’d hated what made her Omega—her body’s shameful betrayal, loathed how little control she had when the bone shaking rumbles were made.
Mostly, she hated the males who cheered, shouting encouragement for her to open her thighs and give them an even closer look.
Leaning up on an elbow, she let them see her tear-marked cheeks and tried to communicate that she was more than a hole they all could fuck. “I have great skill in dying cloth. I can make rare greens and purples from ingredients local to our forest in shades so vibrant they were highly sought after by my neighbors.” She didn’t know who she was pleading with, the males too caught up in their game to listen, but Morgaine muttered on all the same. “I know the traditional dances to flute music and sew well. At harvest, I am useful in the fields. I had friends…”
Silence slowly broke up the noise, a sense of quiet amidst the sound of shuffling feet eerie. Whatever had ended the raucous tableau, she didn’t know. She didn’t care. She just hoped they were listening.
They were not. Sergeant Uriel had returned into their midst, growling with heavy disapproval at the raucousness of the crowd and the pathetic figure she displayed. “Stand up, Omega. Stand now and keep your eyes downcast.” His low bark harsher than she’d yet heard. “I will not have you be seen this way.”
Pressing her palm to the floor, she shifted to her knees, looking over her shoulder to see an older male had come to view her shame. His rank had to be high if the glittering marks on his armor were any indication. He did not at all look pleased.
Climbing to her feet, she did exactly as she was told, kept her eyes downcast, and shoulders straight.
“Commandant, this is Morgaine of the Ivex Colony on the fourth continent of Nauu. She was harvested from one of our more resourceful settlements.” Sergeant Uriel stood at stiff attention, listing her attributes as if selling a horse. “Her eyes are blue, hair golden, long in the fashion of their females. She speaks only the common language and has been educated by farmers. A simple girl, with simple skills, but great beauty.”
Mortified to be spoken of as if lacking, Morgaine’s cheeks went red, but she kept her lips sealed.
“Why was it lying on the floor?”
Sergeant Uriel did not soften his assessment in the slightest. “This one is feral, Commandant. She is indolent and argumentative. As such, her handling has been strict and her education requirements adjusted to diminish her flaws. She needs more training than most.”
The commandant shook his head, lips thinned. “I have heard enough of this case, and frankly, I’m tired of the petitions. Her presence on my ship has been a distraction to the ranks, and to come here and find her exposed, enticing my soldiers to quicken her pleasure, it cannot be tolerated. Look at her thighs… they are dripping with slick. This sort of lewd behavior is only tolerable in the pleasure quarters for those who’ve earned the right to be entertained by an Omega, not in the main gallery by any passing male.”
“She is a virgin, sir. Her body is preparing for penetration. We also suspect she is on the verge of her first estrous.”
It was intolerable, and Morgaine could not bite her tongue. “I did not ask them to growl at me, nor did I like it. Don’t think I’m doing this on purpose!”
“Silence!” The commandant’s roar shook her, causing Morgaine to back away.
Sergeant Uriel was equally incensed. “Do not speak again, Morgaine.”
Measuring the shrinking Omega, bushy brows drawn low over unforgiving eyes, the commandant decided her fate. “If you don’t want it to sit, then sitting shall be made painful. Three strikes with a cane across her buttocks. Two across the shoulders. Tomorrow we shall see how straight she stands and how seriously she takes this honor. If I find her lying down again, the punishment will be doubled. Omegas must know their place.”
***
Punishment was served immediately. Amidst the grumbled disappointment of the males who had yet to push their way to the front of the crowd, Morgaine was pulled from her glass cage. Pulled rather roughly.
Marched back through the halls, dragged when she couldn’t keep up, past gawking strangers. When they found her door, she watched Sergeant Uriel press his hand to the wall and it opened at once.
Thrust inside, she found Corporal Esin, smiling, the room decorated with flickering lights and smelling of a savory meal. He took one look at Uriel’s stormy countenance and lost all traces of joy.
“She is to be caned.”
Already reaching to strip off his tunic, Esin declared, “I’ll bear her punishment. As many strikes as you see fit, sir.”
“You will not.” The door closed at his back, the smooth wall seamless, before Uriel released her aching arm. “Five strikes were ordered by the commandant as a necessary reminder of what she is and who she owes her fealty to. For her disrespect to your leadership, I am adding another strike.”
“Sir.” Crestfallen, Esin gave her a look that set her skin bumping in fear. “Six strikes… she’s so small.”
“You may brace her and offer comfort as it’s done.”
And it was done at once. A dumbfounded Morgaine was dragged into her sleeping pit and shoved down to sprawl on her belly. Between them they moved her where they would, the girl too shell-shocked to grasp what was coming.
Esin held her forearms. Pulling them away from her body and planting them into the floor with his weight. Hair gathered and moved away from her back, clothing tugged aside before she could complain… she didn’t even know where Sergeant Uriel had procured the cane.
A shrill whistle and searing fire tore a line across the naked cheeks of her ass. It happened so quickly, with no break between strikes, that by the third she was sobbing and fighting to get away.
All the while, Esin whispered that if she remained still, the bite of the cane would cause less damage. He pled with her.
The fourth caught her across the shoulders, the hardest strike yet, landing on a girl so beyond the ability to cope tha
t she shrilled out a cry for help from the very man holding her down. By the fifth she was begging for mercy, saying anything she thought they might want to hear to get the pain to stop.
The sixth fell and she was certain she was going to die.
Breaking the cane over his knee, Sergeant Uriel threw it across the room, shattering a pitcher on the table. “May that sting remind you that though we do not enjoy doling out punishment on our females, we will!”
He stormed out, leaving the stink of Alpha anger and something even more terrifying— compunction—in the air. The burden of remorse had not held back his rage; even under its sting Sergeant Uriel had still beaten her into perfect submission
…and he’d abandoned her to Esin’s care.
Slumped over the pillows, the flesh of her back and buttocks seared as if from open flame, Morgaine put up no fight when the corporal circled to her back. No resistance was offered when he pet unmarked skin.
It was time to get it over with and accept that she’d been cast into hell.
This male had the right to enter her now. And then tomorrow another. And then another. And another.
The threat that had been hanging over her head would be carried out while she was in too much pain to do a damn thing.
Instead, he blew cool breath over the marks, speaking softly. “There is no blood. He was surprisingly delicate. The sergeant could have struck you hard enough to split skin and leave scars.”
Hating the world, Morgaine sobbed. “My only value here is in my beauty…”
Esin did not answer her, blowing again as if a soft puff of air might soothe her. “As this was a punishment, I am forbidden to heal you. All I can offer is ice for the pain.”
And he did, cautious in how he cooled the fire of each mark. While he tended to her, he spoke of his disappointment, of how he had thought to impress her upon her return. “I spent a great deal on the best foods available on this ship. There is even a bottle of Hessmirn wine I’ve been saving just for you. For my beloved mate.”
Morgaine didn’t argue with the creature sliding ice over scalding fires. She only nodded in hopes of appeasing him.
“When you’ve calmed down, I’ll make you a plate. Don’t move a muscle, just rest, sweet renegade.”
And thus the night progressed. Esin was with her until she slept, iced her wounds when she whimpered. Offered water, wine, food, anything he thought she might require.
Not once did he initiate mating. It would have been impossible to do without hurting her more.
For that, Morgaine was almost grateful.
Chapter 11
The commandant’s punishment produced the desired effects. Morgaine could not sit, nor could she comfortably lean against the glass cage she was once again locked inside. On display for the second time in as many days, she stood still as stone in the center of the enclosure exactly as they wanted her to.
When she was asked a question, she answered it. When foreign males picked up the clothing outside her cage to sniff, she pretended she didn’t see their reaction or the way many would reach down and adjust their growing erections.
“What is your name?”
“Morgaine.”
“Show me your breasts, Morgaine.”
Staring over their heads, the panels of her garment were pulled apart, taut nipples catching the fabric until fleshy orbs bounced free.
Unlike the day before, she didn’t wallow. In fact, she did not allow herself to feel anything. Almost robotic, she went through the motions, kept her eyes off them, and even forced smiles when told to—though her face always returned to neutral once she’d performed to their liking.
“Have you been trained in pleasuring an Alpha?”
“No. I am feral and have never been mounted. I have only seen matings via the screen in my room. The details were obscured.”
Alpha males were cycling through the data log at the base of her enclosure, one of them commenting aloud. “Corporal Esin holds the greatest stake. Do you see that, Regis? He won’t be of rank to take a mate for at least two years. Should his suit win, she will be made available for use in the pleasure quarters until he can legally claim her.”
Sergeant Uriel had never once mentioned such a thing to her.
Apathy dropped away, as did Morgaine’s stomach. “What?”
The males did not answer her, their conversation continuing between them. “The corporal will grow rich with her rental, and we can apply to share her company together. Look here, she has been cleared to service up to five males at a time… ten while in estrous. By the time she is under his pair-bond, he’ll have rank, status, money, and a well-trained Omega eager to please him. It’s brilliant, really.”
The soldier’s friend chuckled. “No wonder his case is so strongly petitioned. He must have financial backers impatient to take a cut of the profit.”
Any softness Morgaine might have felt after Esin’s tender care the previous night evaporated. She took a step toward the glass, and tapped her knuckles against the panel to get the males’ attention. “Great Alpha soldiers, can you please clarify?”
They ignored her, scrolling down the file and whistling at what they found.
Desperate for an explanation, she looked around, trying to make eye contact with any male. It was not her eyes they were staring at: breast, thigh, the width of her hips and taper of her waist. Her eyes were inconsequential.
She, Morgaine, was invisible. Only her body mattered.
Looking down at her hands, at her manicured nails, the temptation to set them to her flesh and tear grew overwhelming. If she could just make herself ugly, they might leave her alone.
…or they would heal her and chain her hands.
Frantically working the simple tie of her dress, she pulled the cloth away so all gathered might see her bared. “I want a mate, any mate. I do not wish to work in the pleasure quarters. Who can pay more than Esin? What do I have to do to please you?”
Finally, she had their attention. The male reading her file shook his head. “He was clever in structuring his bid. The sum here is great, more than I can afford. But, when it is my turn to visit you, I will pay the fee and treat you well.”
Her fanatic pitch grew, Morgaine’s palms banging loudly against the glass. “Is there anyone else who can pay more?”
Not one of them offered for her, even if several looked as if they wanted her more than anything in the world.
No wonder so many had been collecting outside her containment. No wonder they were interested in reading the file and scenting her clothing. Each of them would have a chance to know her intimately… for a fee.
For two whole years…
She had one chance to change her fate, throwing back her shoulders to announce, “I am feral, but I would be a good mate. I am industrious and hardworking.”
Someone behind her cracked a joke. “The marks across your ass would say differently.”
Breathless, flustered, Morgaine continued. “Never once was I punished in my settlement. I am loyal and loving. Do not Alphas want to be loved by an Omega? I… I know how to collect and store rare herbs. I can weave baskets, sew clothing. Three of my neighbors’ houses I helped build. I bred goats that made fine milk and cheese.”
They were starting to laugh at her ridiculous list of attributes, not one skill listed useful in their society.
Altering tactics, she said, “I can be the perfect servant. Is that what you want?”
“And you will be… in the pleasure quarters.”
Speechless, completely lost, Morgaine backed away. Glassy eyes went to the floor, to where her dress lay in a heap. Bending down to take it set the wounds on her back to burning at the stretch of skin. But she could not bear to remain naked and begging. Not before these horrible things.
She’d rather bear the pain of the cane over and over than submit to so many for so little. “Any who come to me in the pleasure quarters I will bite.”
That was the wrong thing to say, for immediately several pu
shed closer.
“I will scratch you, make you bleed.”
The bright-eyed male nearest the front licked his lips.
Locking eyes with him, she hissed, “I will hate you and cry the whole time. You and all Alphas disgust me.”
“Silence, feral, before you earn yourself more punishment than you can handle.”
One thing Morgaine was good at on this ship was digging her own grave. It seemed the perfect time to pick up the shovel. “I would rather be burned at the stake in front of everyone I loved, than feel the touch of a single one of you.”
Thoughts a riot of ugly things and evil outcomes, she became stone, ignoring their growled responses to her rudeness, refusing to answer questions. They grew bored of her, and over the hours, began to scatter.
Morgaine had done her reputation harm, but she did not care.
There was nothing in the world to care about.
Oblivious to her heart-pounding anxiety, Alphas ceased strolling, moving aside in automatic formation. They left her cage abandoned for the first time since she’d been locked inside that morning, and gave her a view of the massive gallery.
A vast room that, aside from the shuffle of footsteps, was a suddenly, eerily silent place.
Bracing, sure the commandant was coming to cast an unfavorable judgment upon her, Morgaine swallowed and took a deep breath.
Maybe they’d cut out her tongue, just as these men had done to her aunt years ago.
Maybe they would see her raped at last.
From the glitter of armor on the opposite end of the room, he had arrived, as had several high-ranked Alphas at his back. Stiffening her shoulders, she prepared to look her tormenter in the eye as he decided her next punishment.
But his attention was not on her. Instead he stood at the front of his men… waiting.
Squinting to see, Morgaine could hardly make out what they were doing across the vast space. Columns supporting the room’s high ceiling made spying difficult, as did the bright backlight of glowing metal at their backs, but something of great consequence made the air buzz with inevitability.
