Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Isolde
“ S tand here and wait,” Ophelia demands.
There’s a very powerful alpha who has just dragged in his “too mature” omega through the door, and needs her attention immediately. I noticed he has beady, narrow dark eyes, and tawny hair that’s cut short and messy. I can see his wealth and privilege in his perfectly cut suit, shiny shoes, and intense gaze.
The omega who walks next to me with her gaze averted has long brown hair hiding her face, her body thin like mine. My heart aches for her. I doubt life will get much better for her now that she’s here.
The best option would be for her owner to take her back or to be sold immediately. The unknown is safer than what the omega would find here.
Leaning against the wall in the black, over the top lingerie Ophelia chose for me, I watch as they disappear into a back room. The corset on this top has a collar, a reminder of who I am. A slave. The entire outfit down to the thigh highs and lace garters is hyper sexualized because that’s all I am for Jefferson City Auction.
I watch as omegas are hustled off to be prepped and primped, reminding me of the wavy curls my hair now lays in. Dark eye makeup is meant to make me appear sultry, but I’m not sure that Ophelia’s makeup artist hit her mark.
Everything about me screams ‘sex pot,’ while I feel weary instead. I can’t stand a moment more of this place, but force myself to bide my time and wait. Patience will get me the fuck out of here.
A very angry alpha bursts from the room, his pheromones sour as he strides out. My alpha pheromone blockers must be fading since I haven’t taken a dose in several days. I’m unsure if this is something Ophelia planned for, or if she simply forgot with the stress of this auction. It’s definitely a more high profile event than usual.
The omega who disappeared earlier into a room to say ‘goodbye’ I assume, reappears with Ophelia herding her to get ready to be sold. It’ll be a very quick process, something even I was denied after years of waiting to be sold. It shows that this girl means nothing to Ophelia outside of a paycheck, while she finds great pleasure in hurting me. This is personal for her.
The omega makes eye contact with me for a moment as she passes, her hazel eyes resigned to whatever fate is coming for her. Life has already broken her, it appears, and her last owner wasn’t very kind.
Maybe she’ll get lucky and find a good pack. I’m actually hoping for the opposite though so my blood lust can be appeased.
I get a chance to see her again as Ophelia marches her out in a white see-through bra and thong, surprising me. This omega is gorgeous, though she has to be freezing as well. The girl is also wearing a heavy collar around her throat. Fuck. She’s marched out of my view to join the line of omegas waiting for their turn to walk across the auction stage.
I’m beginning to get a little worried that no one has come to drag me out there with the rest of the omegas, a cold sweat breaking out at my neck.
Did she change her mind? I can’t handle even one more night of “training.” My hopes are raised to be sold tonight. Please, don’t let something have happened to that plan.
Ophelia ignores me, the bitch, bustling around the back area ensuring everyone is where they need to be, all while I pretend not to care. She’s quite literally making me sweat. It feels as if the minutes are melting away, just like my possibility at freedom. The auction attendees are raucous and loud, the very ground underneath me vibrating from their yells as they bid excitedly.
Finally, Ophelia walks over to me, frowning. “Why are you still standing here?”
I simply gaze at her, because anything I could possibly say would get me backhanded. Blowing out a breath of frustration, she motions for me to follow her.
“It’s just as well for you to get the dregs of society,” she mutters. “Whoever is left out there will be looking for a deal.”
What she’s saying is that the crowd is getting rougher as the auction wears on. There are only three omegas left in front of me, and I hurry to keep up as the line moves. I don’t care who it is that buys me.
Please just get me out from these four walls.
Finally, it’s my turn, and my feet feel leaden as I force them to keep moving. I’m not wearing shoes, my feet only lightly protected by the thigh high stockings that I’m wearing. There are men and women alphas in the room, all of them lighting on me.
I’m the last omega. Fuck, there’s so much pressure there.
Turning to face them, I listen to the beta who is the auctioneer as he begins to speak.
“This omega is no stranger to rough sex,” he says, making me swallow hard. “She’ll be a good little cum whore for you, and better yet, she’s not too proud to beg for it.”
My blood is boiling even as I keep my facial features impassive. I’m standing at the ultimate mercy of these alphas, and I don’t want to show my true colors. I was a killer before I was kidnapped off the streets of Michigan, nothing has changed now.
The beta who found me was a bear of a man, walked up to me, and punched me in the face. That sucker punch knocked me out, allowing him to tie me up, and drive me over state lines to Minnesota. If I hadn’t been overtired from working back to back shifts, none of this would have happened.
Hindsight’s a bitch.
The crowd begins to catcall and yell up at me, the waves of alpha pheromones incredibly potent as they wash over me. It’s too much, and I feel faint as I stand resolutely on the stage. It doesn’t matter how shitty I feel, I will not show weakness or pass out.
It’s a delicate game, but one I need to win.
“Let’s start the bidding at eight hundred dollars!” the beta says gleefully.
Fuck. That’s a really low bid, the asshole. People yell out their intended bids, driving up the price as they go. Unfortunately, there are some really greasy misfortunates out there, all yelling to buy me. It’s gross how alphas of this low stature can afford to come into an auction house to buy an omega.
There are cheaper ways to get off.
“Can I hear three thousand dollars?” I hear.
It’s embarrassing to hear how little my life is worth. I bet Ophelia is cackling in the wings. I’m sure she’s behind this torture as I’m reminded that I’m worthless, simply a hole that begs to be filled when she pumps me full of her medication.
I hope this place catches on fire on day and she fucking dies.
“Four thousand as my final offer!” an alpha with a bad toupee and a gut yells out. Oh my, he’s a catch.
My stomach flips with derision and nausea as I see that he’s with three other men. They’re all overweight. I’m not at my best fighting weight, and I haven’t had anything to eat today. I’ll need to make sure I can incapacitate them quickly so I can play a little.
I want to hear screams before I disappear into the night. Maybe bathe in their blood a bit. I’m not asking for much.
My tongue slides over my bottom lip in thought, causing someone else to bid. Fuck, that’s not what I wanted to do.
“Turn around, little cum slut. Show the room what they’re purchasing,” the auctioneer demands.
He can’t bark me into doing anything, and even if he could, it’s much less effective after fighting off alpha barks for the last three years. Practice makes perfect.
Slowly turning around for the room, I give them the privilege of gazing at my body. My ass is semi covered with the bottoms I’m wearing, and my pussy is bone dry. I am not excited by this in the least bit, my body is repulsed by all the mingling alpha scents.
“Anyone else?” the beta asks, looking around.
“Five thousand dollars,” an alpha yells out.
I heard the bids for other omegas, and they were in the millions. This is a joke. If I actually cared how much I sold for at a sex trafficking auction, I’d feel sufficiently embarrassed.
Please just let him win. The alpha is a tall, strong man, surrounded by two other alphas. They have cruel eyes, their body language telling me they’re not good alphas.
“I bet she’s a great dick sucker with those lips,” an alpha in his pack yells.
There aren’t going to be any hearts and flowers with this pack, and it’s just as well. The auctioneer slams down the gavel, signaling that they’ve won. People groan, but I’m sure the beta is ready to go home.
Auctions sometimes can go on until very late, and I’m not worth staying up for. That’s exactly what he’s telling me with his actions.
“Come here, little omega,” the beta says. Walking toward him because it’s expected, I tell myself that this is what I want.
I need to be bought so I can leave this place. It’s hard sometimes to make peace with leaving a place where you know their routines and expectations. Outside of these walls, anything goes.
My gaze takes everything in as the auctioneer pushes me at two betas who walk me down the stairs to the pack who is currently signing paperwork.
“Enjoy your purchase,” the beta escorting me says, nodding as he pushes me toward the pack.
“Thank you,” one of the alphas says. “I’m hoping she’ll come around our cocks a few times before we fuck her to death.”
Ah, they’re into snuffing the life out of their omegas, seeing how tight and wet I’ll get before the light leaves my eyes. That’s cute, but not something I plan to allow them to experience.
I wonder how popular this game is with other alphas who come here to find an omega. Granted, he’s buying me for a steal, but his plan is still to use my body until they are ready to kill me.
The alphas finish their transaction, and one of them picks me up as if I were a sack of shit to throw me over his shoulder. It takes everything inside of me not to gasp, though my eyes widen to the size of saucers. Fucking Neanderthals.
They leave the auction house quickly, though they don’t stop at a vehicle to drive away in. Instead, they continue on foot toward a seedy hotel. I only know this because they’re openly discussing it, and no one bats an eye.
Is this common practice for post auction shenanigans? Ophelia believes in offering a wide array of inventory to make her prices more accessible for alphas who can’t pay for top tier omega pussy. I have to ignore how ridiculous it is that I feel kind of slighted.
Ophelia wanted to get rid of me by any means necessary, so I’m Walmart Brand Barbie. Wonderful.
The idea makes me even more angry as the alphas stomp into the hotel room. They already have a key, which means they checked in for the express purpose of fucking an omega. It’s freezing out today, and I think my nipples may be able to cut glass by this point. The alpha carrying me tosses me onto a lumpy mattress, smirking as he begins to undress.
If he wants to keep his cock where it unimpressively is attached, I think he needs to stay far away from my mouth.
The game has changed. There’s no one to keep me in line. Come at me, alpha bro. I’ll bite it clean off.
“If you don't take off your clothes, I’ll have to cut it off, little whore,” the alpha next to Naked Limp Dick sneers, pulling out a knife.
“I’m so scared,” I rasp, my meek act coming to an end. “Come discipline me, Daddy.”
“Oh, you think you’re funny,” he breathes, pulling out a wicked knife.
Did you know there are so many nerve endings in your hand that if you pinch one just right, it’ll go numb? It’s a glorious thing, because you won’t be able to hold anything, your hand is dead and useless. That’s exactly what is going to happen for Daddy Alpha when he comes for me with that knife.
“Hysterical,” I deadpan, scrambling so I’m on my knees. I need to be able to move quickly, depending on how Daddy Alpha wants to play this.
Now that it’s just the four of us, I can tell these alphas smell rancid. They’re not good people. I can smell stale sweat, blue cheese, and rotten food. These are not the scents of alphas I want to roll around with and fuck of my own free will.
“I think you need to learn some manners,” Daddy Alpha snarls, moving quickly as he climbs onto the bed.
Waiting for him to kneel over me, his knife coming toward my throat, I grab his hand, digging my fingers into the most vulnerable nerve endings to force him to let go.
“Witch!” he screams, making me laugh in an unhinged way. None of this is funny, but my vengeance will scratch a three year old itch.
“Don’t you want to play anymore, Daddy?” I ask, pouting as I take the knife from him. Reaching up, I yank on his dark, sweaty hair, pulling it toward me so I can shove the knife deep under his chin.
It’s such a vulnerable spot, it’s silly that he gave me the perfect opportunity to kill him. Knives are one of my favorite ways to take out the garbage. Not wanting to get stuck underneath him when he dies, I shove my foot in his pelvis, forcing him to roll over. I ride the alpha as he capsizes, shoving his knife in even deeper.
One down…
Limp Dick Alpha roars, reaching over and pulling me off his pack member and the bed by my hair. My scalp is used to this, all it does is remind me to take my newly acquired weapon with me. Blood pours from Daddy Alpha’s body, and the last pack member moans in grief and anger.
“You’re all going to die,” I sing in a creepy voice. “I got your dick!”
A quick twist relieves Limp Dick of his less than adequate cock, his scream making me grin as he keeps me on my knees.
“You bitch!” he roars.
“Do you expect me to kiss it and make it feel better?” I ask, shoving the knife deep in his lower thigh.
His femoral artery happily sprays as I pull it out, pushing him away to deal with his impending death.
“It’s always the quiet ones who surprise you,” I murmur.
Now, instead of nausea, there’s a calculated look in his gaze. Ah… I see.
“Have you ever fucked your omega to death before, or are you just really into snuff porn?” I ask mockingly.
“I like to knot their asses while Fred knots their throats,” Snuff Alpha snarls.
“Well, I think you’re going to have to get used to not getting what you want with me, Snuff Alpha,” I say.
Hmm, I wonder which one is Fred, not that it matters anymore.
I don’t know when to shut up. It’s a bit of a character flaw. I like to rile people up, because they’ll undoubtedly make a mistake.
Snuff Alpha screams at me, running at me, while I scramble onto the bed. A wave of exhaustion threatens, and I force my feet to stay planted on the mattress. Daddy Alpha is choking on his own blood, making a mess at my feet. Can’t he die a little cleaner?
For God’s sake. Limp Dick Alpha is also having a hell of a time with the mess of his detached cock and cut femoral artery. All this means for me is that I only have one last alpha to worry about.
Snuff Alpha tries to grab me, but I jump onto his back instead. My knees lock along his sides, my hand yanking his head back to stab him in the neck. It’s a signature move tonight, simply because they’re bigger than me and I’m dangerously close to passing out from lack of food.
Stay awake, Isolde.
I haven’t even thought about my name in three years, feeling more like chattel than a flesh and blood person with thoughts and emotions.
Isolde. Saying it again releases the monster inside of me. Stabbing Snuff Alpha over and over, I scream as I kill him.
“How fucking dare you!” I screech. “You do not have my consent to touch me. Your grubby hands have killed their last omega. No fucking more!”
The satisfying squelching sound as the knife enters and exits his body makes me feel tingly, but it’s over much too soon. His body begins to list, falling forward, and I jump off his back, knife still in my hand. Breathing hard, my breasts heave from exertion from my temper tantrum. Walking over to Limp Dick Alpha, I check his pulse to make sure he’s dead.
Daddy Alpha is also no longer breathing, his heart no longer beating. Smiling brightly, I also make sure Snuff Alpha is also no longer with us.
“Thanks for making that so easy,” I murmur, smiling brightly as I walk to the bathroom to wash off the knife. Despite attempting to be careful of the blood spray, I also have to wash my face of the spatter now colorfully covering my skin.
Oh well. Once I’m sure I’m no longer a walking horror show, I move back into the bedroom to search their bags. Finding a long t-shirt, I decide to strip off my lingerie other than the corset and panties, and also steal a pair of his socks.
“How did you assholes get here?” I ask myself, looking around at the very dead alphas.
Thankfully, I check Limp Dick Alpha’s pants first, finding keys to a vehicle. Continuing on my hunt for cash, I lift all three of their wallets for their money. Gazing at my handiwork, I thank the universe that they were such bumbling idiots.
I’m exhausted, but I can’t stay here. I need to get on the road, find a drive through for food and caffeine, and then maybe a rest stop to pass out at for a few hours. This is the first step to a new life, free of fear and Ophelia. I can’t fucking wait.
As dressed as I can possibly be with my options, I walk over to the door and carefully peek out. There’s no one in the parking lot, and a push of the key fob tells me exactly where their truck is. Thankfully, it’s parked in front of the room.
Stepping out, I allow the door to close behind me quickly, and make a beeline for the truck. While it’s a tall vehicle, I’m able to climb up into the driver seat. I like that I can see everything, since I’ll be a little nervous to drive since I haven’t done it in so long.
The sound of the engine turning over nearly makes me slick with relief, and I pull on my seat belt.
“Here’s to the rest of my life,” I whisper, pushing down the break as I put the truck into reverse.
Breathing slowly, I force myself to take things as calmly as possible as I drive the truck onto the road, leaving everything else about tonight in the rear view mirror.
What do I want to do with the rest of my life anyway?
For three years, I’ve been told what to do, when to do it, and I haven’t been able to make a single decision alone. Unless it was being a brat. That wasn’t ever smart though, and brought a host of problems with it.
I want to figure out who Isolde is now, see what’s different in the world now I’m a part of it again, and see how I fit. A whisper fills my mind, surprising me so much that I almost drive the truck into a ditch.
Maybe we’ll find a pack of our own? One we don’t want to kill.
Huh. I wasn’t expecting that, but it’s a secret desire I’ve never allowed myself to think about until this moment. Freedom and the pursuit of love.
I’m ready.