Chapter 18
Jacques was in hell.
He’d fucked countless women in his years, and they all felt different and exactly the same.
But none of them were Brenya.
Who he’d hurt, the video of her surgery still playing on the walls of his cell, the sound of her crying in pain echoing over and over, on a loop.
So loud even Lucia’s focused breaths as she rode him could not drown out Brenya’s suffering.
He was going to slaughter the foreign whore. “I’ll fucking kill you, you bitch!”
“I told you not to talk.” Lucia working hard for her knot, the muscle control of her cunt astounding, and she focused on getting him off. She rippled on command, squeezed brutally, until his one remaining testicle began to draw up tight against his shaft.
He’d fought the straps holding him down to the bed long enough to know there was no getting out of them. But still, he bucked, snarled every ounce of hate he had in his heart at the slut daring to take the cum that belonged to another.
Who degraded him like he was some Beta slave.
“When I get out of here, your death will be slow. I swear to you, Lucia. I’ll cut that baby out of you and make you…” Eat it?
Was that what he was going to say?
Fuck. He was losing his mind, remembering the taste of Brenya’s ruined flesh as he chewed the gristle and swallowed. Vomited and was made to eat that too.
He’d never felt like this, not in all the years growing up as the spare in a palace filled with depravity. Not when he’d been raped by his hag of a wife. Not when he’d lost fistfights and gained a cock up the ass.
Some of it had been fun.
This was not.
It was degrading. Humiliating.
And still, he was getting close.
Because Brenya was close.
But the foreign whore was bouncing on his lap as if her life depended on it. Lucia’s long hair gone. Cut short in uneven patches, bits of her scalp crusted with lines of dried blood as if the scissors had slipped more than once. Invoking the head of a queen about to be led to the guillotine.
Which had Jacques laughing cruelly. “You must have pissed him off.”
He knew better than most that Jules did love a sharp knife.
“You look fucking hideous. Did you cry when he cut it off?” Hissed from between clenched teeth as he tried his darndest to resist, to spite them all. And not to let Brenya feel his anguish.
That morning, she’d smelled so good, and so terrible, Beta blood all over her Gods-awful jumpsuit.
She’d been beautiful.
That was all he wanted to think of, but Lucia did something with her hips that almost forced his soul from his body.
“Shit, wait… it’s…. Godsdamnit, Lucia!” Jacques grunted, voice strained, as he fought against the inevitable.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh shit, you—fucking hell!” Jacques’s bellow was raw as Lucia licked her finger and reached back to slip it right up his ass, stroking his prostate better than any Beta whore ever had. “Stop!”
And it was done.
He could feel his heartbeat in the head of his dick. Felt it flare, pulsating with each beat of his racing heart. Helpless to stop himself from defying the straps holding him down, rutting his hips upward in desperate need.
Thinking of his mon chou.
Face a mask of tortured ecstasy, Jacques’s orgasm consumed him, though he tried and failed to will it away.
And his sad attempt to maintain some semblance of control over his wayward cock failed as well.
Made him feel small as he grew absolutely huge, his shaft thickening and more engorged by the second.
His knot inflated fatter and more rigid, the fleshy bulb triggering Lucia’s breathy climax, hard and loud, as she demanded his cum.
Omegas were…. They had a power they should not have.
Jacques screaming out Brenya’s name with a guttural, animalistic groan that turned into a feral roar.
Alpha semen spurted in hot waves into Omega pussy, the first huge gush from a forced knot.
And after a minute or two, Lucia’s climax dimmed, became untheatrical, the woman relieved as she pressed a hand to her low belly and thanked him, careful as she pulled her finger from his anus.
Locked together, she caught her breath, nodding that he had done well. “He wants me to teach you how to fuck, but you already know. She was just too small. So we’ll cover nerve bundles and Omega slick glands. You can cry; it’s okay. I don’t want to be here either.”
And he was crying, devastated, his knot never having felt so good. His missing testicle giving a phantom twitch as Lucia did another magic ripple with her insides.
And for the next hour, as Jacques was forced to feel Brenya climax in relentless succession, his knot trapped in Lucia with no hopes of going down, his one testicle swelling and releasing over and over until the pregnant Omega had more than enough cum as he listened to a lecture on Omega anatomy and sexual technique.
And then Lucia began to unstrap his right wrist, holding his gaze with a long, warning look. Releasing his arm and lifting the exhausted limb to show him how to cup her breast.
He knew how to fondle a tit, for fuck’s sake.
But this was different, Lucia walking him through specific pressure points that encouraged different responses. Stimulation, relaxation, lactation.
Knowledge that did not exist under Bernard Dome.
That caught his attention, Jacques imagining it was Brenya’s flash in his palm.
Lucia releasing his other arm.
And then the bitch of all bitches leaned down, nipping up his throat as if she was his Omega, making him want to break her neck in several places.
Until her lips came to his ear, the toxic witch whispering in her exotic accent between kittenish licks, “This morning, Havel dumped my sisters in Central in the middle of an Alpha stampede. I will do anything to help them. So, cum inside me, fuck me, and keep Havel in Brenya. When she’s been exhausted, he won’t leave her.
He won’t come back. Use me for hours. Pretend you give a shit about these lessons so his guards do not suspect.
And when they let me out of the room, when everyone is exhausted, your men are waiting to use that moment to reinstate their great Commodore.
But I will only help them if you swear to me you will protect my baby and save my sisters.
Tend to me through my pregnancy. If you agree, start fucking me on your knot like you mean it. ”
He might have hallucinated it. It might have been the control Lucia exercised over her pussy and the things it could do to his cock.
But desperation that this might be real, that he might have an actual opportunity to save his mate from the evilest of men, led him to flex his muscular torso and writhe beneath her—abs and chest coiled as he bucked his hips upwards with all the force he could muster, given his restraints…
which were many. “Come on, bitch, teach me how spoiled Omegas fuck.”
Somewhere nearby, Brenya was so close again. He could feel her. Offered her his pleasure, because he was going to be free.
And he was going to murder Jules Havel.
For hours, Jacques was the diligent student, memorizing every last trick Lucia taught him. Climaxing, flooding her, kissing her, tasting her. Obeying.
And when he was exhausted and her pussy overflowed with prime Alpha cum—long after Brenya had fallen asleep—it was time.
The fifth knot of the night shriveled.
And Lucia climbed off, his flaccid cock slipping free, a fountain of cum spraying his lap, the bedding, the floor.
She pulled on a robe, automatically adjusting hair that no longer hung down to her ass. And then she made a face of unflinching resolve, adjusting the vivid peacock-blue silk that brought out her natural flush. Three pats on her belly, and she shouted for the door to be opened.
It was.
Then the building shook.
Shook.
And blood sprayed the walls, the bitch Lucia shoving a bed pan between the containment shutter and floor to keep the gate from automatically closing while Jacques’s loyal supporters fought their way into the room.
In seconds, Jacques was cut free.
Two hours later. Central was his.
And he was Commodore once again.
Thank you for reading Devoured.