Chapter 51
51
A grand sweeping stairway materialized around the corner from a debris-clogged alleyway, and they took it—with her being joggled along on Rutger’s shoulders, a jockey on a monstrous beast. She didn’t mind. His horns were works of art and so tactile with their minute bumps, and she loved how the blue motes slithered and curled off into space under her hands.
Luckily the ceilings were way high.
On the second story up, Rutger swapped with Vargr so she rode his neck instead. His wings poked up to either side at times, and she was tempted to run her fingers down them. She wasn’t sure how this had come about, had seen no hand signals, but her beasters had swapped and Rutger handed her over like a piece of goods, delivered and signed for.
Now Vargr had his hands wrapped over her lower legs. Well, one riding beaster was as good as another.
On the third story, the males decided to each explore a different half of a long roadway that led past apartments and shops. She, of course, ended up with Vargr. It felt unfair to be sitting on his shoulders for so long even if he wasn’t looking even vaguely fatigued. If he ended up ill, she’d never forgive herself.
A certain need to disturb the status quo made her tap him on the head and ask to be lowered so she could walk.
“No,” he said. “This looks interesting.” He stepped through the shattered front window of a store and she ducked to miss the top frame. The roadway had an exit leading into the righthand side of the store, with a big car-sized opening, and he could’ve used that rather than crunching over loose glass.
Spread out from wall to wall, so that customers could browse, was a showroom of boutique cars in the best gloss paint. Sleek low creatures these. Luxurious interiors. Price tags to match. Blues, reds, grays, black, chrome and glass. Some of the cars displayed at the front were dusty, but the rest were nearly pristine.
“For the rich and famous.” Vargr smoothed a hand over the hood of one near the rear of the showroom, a low red dragon of a car with yellow-and-blue flames up the side, headlights that looked like big poppy eyes, and twin rising tailfins. “Let’s check the back room.”
“Let’s give a shout to Rutger first?” she suggested.
“Why? You afraid?”
“Of?” she asked idly, as he prodded the unlatched left wing of a pair of gray doors with the toe of his boot and pushed it open. It swung fully open and clicked into a holding catch on the wall.
“Me.”
Said so dryly, she wasn’t sure what he meant. Then again, maybe she did. She narrowed her eyes.
“Of you? Never.”
“Hmmm.”
This was a workshop area. Against the wall shared with the showroom was a long bench covered with spanners, wrenches, pieces of engines and other repair-related gear. Five vehicles were in various states of disarray—doors off, dashboards pulled out and left next to them, engines with the hood up.
He wandered past a dismantled car raised on a hoist, with the hood up and the tires off. The engine lay on the floor with chains hooked to a hoist ready to crank it higher to where the empty engine bay waited. Another engine on an overhead chain, hook, and pulley system had long ago fallen onto a car, crushing part of it. Someone’s lunch box lay on the bench and nearby a metal fitting sat locked in a vice.
Vargr reached up and grabbed her by the waist then brought her over his head. With a sudden twist, he flipped her in a circle and caught her again, then deposited her butt-down on the bench.
Her one gasped swear word as he tossed her was soon forgotten, along with her shock, though she hankered to call him a bastard. He’d distracted her by reaching and snagging the collar she still wore. In a deadly serious tone he said, “I think, you should be.”
Using a finger or two he twisted the collar tighter until she must lift her neck. His other hand was on her thigh, squeezing her muscles through the gray leggings. Leggings, jeans, and T-shirts with odd slogans—the required fashion for the apocalypse.
“ Should be what?” She knew, even though the words he was following up on were ages ago, she remembered them. Smiling, she waited to hear him say it.
“You should fear me.” A red tide sifted higher in his irises. “You should fear what your nanites are doing. I can feel them pouring through me, eating up the man I was.”
It was a bald statement, but she doubted Vargr’s true self was vanishing, though fearing him was tempting her.
The muscles and veins of his recently demolished arm—the one he used to hold her collar—it pulsed a shifting red. It glinted with brilliances here and there, like the motes that fell from Rutger, yet these were trapped within his blood.
She’d seen his arm before, but not in such detail. How much was he changing?
“But you’re not a man. You’re a beaster,” she suggested quietly and in awe.
“Is this how you feel? How you felt when you shot me?” He bared his teeth, and she saw the tips of them, even and white.
“How is that?” she asked, lifting her hand to trace a thick vein down his arm. A subtle thrill met her fingertips.
“I want to fuck you until you scream. I want to fuck you and hurt you.”
Ohhh myyy. Her eyes had surely widened.
“I want to tie you down, hurt you, fuck you, then hurt you some more.”
She jerked her gaze to his, sucked in an excited breath. His words aroused her, and her nipples were poking at her bra. Always a good sign. “Hurt me?” she asked, breathlessly. “How?”
Give me details.
His smile twisted then straightened. The red particles in his eyes rose like a venomous sea.
“You want this. I should’ve fuckin’ known.”
Well, now he’d said it, she wasn’t actually sure. “Rutger isn’t here,” she whispered. It would be safer if he was.
And less exciting.
“You didn’t answer me. Is this what your nanites do?” He let go of the collar and stepped backward. His wings opened out, wide and vast, until his foot stirred a chain pooled on the floor below a hoist hook. Vargr stooped and began to methodically gather the chain. What did he plan to do?
“Tell me.” Holding the swinging and coiled chain, he closed in on her again.
“I don’t know if it’s the same. We are not the same. Violence turns me on.”
“Sometimes?”
“Always?” There would be limits, wouldn’t there?
Very slowly, as if giving her time to duck, he grabbed the top of her hair and twisted until she had to slide off the bench, drop to her feet and turn to face the bench.
“This?” He pushed her face to the oily timber. She squeaked at that, at the smell of oil, the wrench of those fingers, and at the delicious feel of him behind her, his body crowding hers.
He nudged at her with a hard cock, pressing its length between her legs.
“Violence like this?”
The world narrowed down. “Mmm. Yes.” Hell yes.
Do me , her pussy was saying in no uncertain body language, her ass swaying against that hardness.
“Good.” That word was a guttural noise.
Her nanites had clearly done interesting things.
The chain rattled as he clipped it or hooked it to the side of her collar, stilling her breath as she absorbed this act, and it rattled some more as he dragged her sideways to the vice, wound that device apart, then clamped the chain inside it.
Pinned in one place by ungiving metal, she swallowed—collar at her throat, chain to the vice. Though, really, all she had to do to be free was unwind the vice.
She checked it out, from the corner of her eye, smiled, then brought her hand to the vice.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Vargr caught that hand, and the other, and took them to the small of her back.
Tingles ran down through her from spine, from where he pressed on her ass, to between her legs.
Fuck. So nice,
She squirmed again, whimpering when he bit her shoulder, once, twice. He chuckled. The pain of those bites echoed, awakening her to the possibilities of him fucking her while she was stuck here, wriggling. Waking her to the chance that he could easily bite a piece out of her.
She could heal almost anything, but Vargr was showing signs of being unhinged.
Unhinged is what I love.
“I think I fucking like this.” He wrapped the remains of the chain about her wrists and knotted it.
Tying knots in chain was… she decided on reflection, scary. How strong was he?
She was strong but could never have beaten her two beasters in a wrestle. Now, she was completely outdone. She twisted her wrists and the knots held.
“To get loose, you’ll have to beg, pretty one.” The tease in that voice. The fact he suggested it said she could still rely on him to be moderately trustworthy. Plus, being made to beg sounded yummy.
Cyn sighed…
Her leggings were slowly drawn down to the crease of ass and thigh, and Vargr whistled at the sight. Her panties joined the leggings. His whole hand curved over her ass then between her legs, slickly sliding in her wetness.
“So much here already. I should’ve known. I could make your ass bloody, and you’d make googly eyes at me.”
She wasn’t going to deny it, and only laid the side of her face on the bench to better feel how he handled her, wriggling, squirming, wanting more. Her clit was eventually given attention, but it was glancing, inadequate. She whined, and he only laughed and shoved several fingers into her pussy then fucked her with them.
“Nice, wet cunt. Ready for cock, hey? Not yet.” He played lazily with her clit, circling it, making it slippery, and she imagined his tongue there and pushed her ass up and back.
“Uh-uh.” He smacked the flat of his hand onto her ass cheek, three times, then slid his other hand between her and the table, cupping her mons before he smacked her ass again, harder, flaring pain and heat into her skin.
Fuck. She exhaled shakily, twined her fingers about one another where they lay bound at her back. The chain was heavy on her there and seemed to pulsate, wickedly.
A second later he hauled himself up to sit atop the bench beside her, on the opposite side to the vice. She turned her head and studied him, waiting.
In his hand was gathered a whip-thin rod of steel and a twisted collection of insulated wires of many colors. His smile was seductive and promised the deliverance of evil. “Do you deserve punishment, my little Cyn? I believe you do. Let me count the ways…”
This was… disturbing. She licked her lips, fascinated.
“Your nanites,” she ventured. “Are definitely not behaving as they do inside me. The old Vargr would not have done this.” She rolled her eyes as best she could, to indicate how he’d chained her, trapped her.
Silence descended for more than a few seconds.
“I did warn you.” He laid the steel rod on her butt and rolled it over the globe of one cheek until he reached the split between. She felt it slide between the lips of her pussy. He rocked it side to side, letting it settle deep, until it seemed imbedded there.
Then he leaned over as if to examine her butt, and she gasped as he cupped her hip, crushing her flesh.
“Want this or the wires?” He lightly tapped her pussy with the length of the rod.
This wasn’t pain, it was sexually invasive, but she hoped he only meant to strike her ass with it.
“Not between the legs, but… the wires.”
His face appeared before her, inches away, and he brushed her lips with his, bestowing a gentle kiss. The red in his eyes rose and subsided, a glittering tide.
“Not your pussy? I choose the wires too.”
He sat up, laid aside the rod, and drew the wires through his fist.
“Though my balls ache to use the rod. You shot me, remember?”
Where they ran over his hand, the multicolored wires attracted her in a lurid, malevolent way, like a snake would fixate a victim.
“You forgave me. I may even have a recording of it.” Her lips twitched at the lie. She was never one to volunteer. She needed to make him do this, and yet not exactly make him.
“I did but you don’t. Naughty. You also yelled at Maura and forced her to inject me.” He jabbed at his arm and chest.
Oh she had done that. She smirked. “You’d be dead, if I’d not made her.”
“I’m still punishing you.” He angled himself toward her and said in a hushed voice, as if this was a secret, “Violence and pain have gained a whole new fucking meaning.”
“I know,” she whispered back.
She did know. Knew it so well. And cruelty too was redefined. Maybe Vargr was the only one who could ever understand this. She wanted cruelty done to her, she wanted to do it to others like the Ghoul Lords, and the one craving seemed to cancel out the other.
“Do it, asshole. I fucking dare you.”
He laughed and jumped off then moved behind her, and she saw the shadow of his raised arm on the wall. Instinct made her try to jerk away, but she couldn’t.
Instincts sucked.
The first strike made her wince.
“One,” he announced dryly. “Pull your hands higher. We’ll try ten. I hope I remember how to count.”
She drew her hands up. He remembered well, she found. By ten, she was panting and flinching at each blow, though not screaming. He could hit far harder. Vargr still had some restraint left in him.
Her butt was screaming, though, and she was breathing through clenched teeth.
“Want me inside you, babe?” he purred.
She swallowed past the pain, then croaked out, “Fuck, yes.”
“Not yet.” The amusement in his words was stark. She heard the bundle of wires hit the floor and slide, where he flung them.
Bastard.
Without so much as an apology he moved away, leaving her with that craving to be filled and the marks on her butt flaring in throbbing bouts of hurt.
“Well, well,” Rutger said from somewhere to her left, and she opened her eyes to find him standing beside a large door further down from the entry they’d used. It was clearly made for the cars to drive through. Little Mo waited at his heels. “Go.” He waved at the bot, and it scuttled away, in the direction of the showroom. “Little Mo told me to find you. You two are not allowed alone together from now on.”
“What?” Vargr barked.
“You heard me. I was ready to shoot you. Are you done now? Square? That’s blood on her.”
She wriggled about at that, tried to crane her neck to see. Ooo. Blood…
Then heard Vargr chuckle. “See?”
“Even more reason to be the judge in this relationship. The two of you together are dangerous. You’d destroy each other. It’s the nanites, isn’t it? Obviously. Don’t fucking answer. Maybe it’ll wear off.”
“Maybe,” he said. “I am still me, Rutger,” he added softly. “They just make me feel alive and lust after fucking violence and… fucking her.”
“The last one is fine. Willow is doing that research so once we know what she is and you maybe are, we need to think again. Talk again.”
“And now?”
This time Rutger laughed. “We fuck her. Do we let her go, a bit?”
She heard his boots as he approached. Vargr had removed his, and now she watched both of them undress, from the corners of her eyes.
“Do we let you go, hey?” Rutger asked, his cock and him coming closer, and he leaned down to eye her from inches away. “He has got you in a nice position.”
“Mmm.” She stuck out her tongue and managed to lick the tip of his nose. She wanted them to decide.
Then Vargr put his cock to her slit and pushed. It slid up and down, widening her entrance as it passed by, pressing in by an inch, two. Then he slipped out again. She whined and arched from the table, despite knowing Rutger was keenly observing. Her breasts left the surface, and he sneaked a hand beneath and caressed her there, circling one nipple.
“I’d say she likes that.” Rutger smiled and squeezed finger and thumb over her nipple, crushing her flesh until she snapped shut her eyes and groaned. He released her and climbed to his feet, then he reached across her back to release the chain from the vice, only to clamp it in a different place.
Cock entered her again. “Ohhh.” She huffed, breathed in, out.
Vargr fucked her slowly, a few strokes and not deep. Was he teasing her?
“Fuck her hard a few times then I want her on her knees. I want her mouth.”
Vargr obliged, drove into her, and Rutger smiled as she stared at him, rocked and slapped to and fro, by Vargr, and her breasts pushed to the bench.
The beaster grabbed her hair in his fist and angled back her head for the last… two… thrusts.
By then she was more than a little overcome. “Fuck. Fuck.” She burbled erratically, catching her breath in fits and starts.
She felt Vargr suck out his cock, heard him step away, and she slumped.
“Yeah, she liked it, man. Fuck. Bring her down.” Vargr sniffed then helped Rutger manhandle her to the floor, leaving her on her knees, with her hands still tied at her back and the chain on her collar hanging heavy and leading up the vice.
Her pussy spasmed in at the sight of the two of them standing over her naked, with those very large and enticing erections.
“Let’s both fuck her mouth first.” Vargr grinned. “I know she wants cock in cunt.”
“Shhh,” she whispered, squirming on her heels and feeling her own slickness wet her ankles. Her pussy felt so swollen, so needy. Her breasts heavy.
“You’re definitely more evil.” But Rutger stepped up and took her head in both hands, holding her firmly so she could not escape. He aimed and pushed his cock head into her mouth, waiting as she opened wider, wider. Then he thrust in, fucking her there with little mercy, watching her face avidly, the same as she watched his.
The rise of lust rendered her near thoughtless. She merely wanted , and was the vessel from which he took pleasure.
Once he was done with her, Vargr fucked her mouth also, filling her there, relentlessly pumping, while Rutger stood back stroking himself. When Vargr withdrew, they eyed her, both cocks wet with her saliva, and they pulled at themselves. Which was when she noted the difference to Vargr—the nodules on his cock had become nanite red.
That promised… interesting times.
They’d left her empty, everywhere. Her nipples were sticking up, her cunt below and her mouth ached for something of them—cock or fingers or mouth.
She licked her lips and watched for a while, then eventually she whined. “Heyyy. Me?”
“Begging?” Rutger raised a brow. “Say it. What do you want? This?” He ran his fist down his cock and up, squeezed the head. She swore she could feel him entering her when he did that.
She shut her eyes, opened them. “Yes. Please. Fuck me like there’s no fucking tomorrow.” She switched her gaze to Vargr, her almost evil twin. “Fuck me hard.”
“Was that enough pleases?” he asked Rutger.
“No. More.”
Cyn bent forward, a little, pleading with her body, her wrists twisting and straining to be free of the chains, because she was getting inclined to smack them both. “Fuck me. Please! Or else.”
“Uh-uh.” Vargr waggled his finger.
She pouted and wriggled her butt. “Damn you both.” This was excruciating, embarrassing, and so fucking hot. She inhaled, let it out. “Please? I want to feel you both in me. Please?”
“I’m tempted to do her gently with soft kisses and with rose petals strewn on the floor,” Rutger mused.
“And a champagne dinner on a terrace with violins playing?”
They looked at each other and shook their heads. They circled her, Rutger undoing the chain at the vice and at her hands, then drawing her forward, making her crawl to him while he held the chain like a leash.
“Rose petals? Stupid idea.” That was Vargr. “This one likes wrestling with us, being forced to be our fuckdoll, not champagne.”
She flicked her gaze to him, pouted. Well, she’d go for both… being fucked on a table on a terrace, and forced. Instead, they were messing about.
“Both of you are in my bad books now.”
“Oh? Watch your mouth. We get to do the insults when we have you like this.” The mean twinkle in Rutger’s eyes beguiled her.
He grabbed her and pulled her head to him, and she dropped to hands and knees, too aware of Vargr behind her. “Open up and take me in your mouth and he’ll fuck your other hole.”
She gulped, eyed his cock where he held it, inches from her mouth. “Yes. Please.”
“Good. Stick your ass up. Let him see your cunt.” He shook her head. “Are you our dirty girl?”
“Mmm-hhmm.” She nodded, her whole body brought to peak awareness of her sexuality. She hummed with carnal energy and would’ve done anything for sex with them. “You need to ask?”
“I like hearing you say it.”
Bright-eyed, she nodded. She got that. Being told to say it turned her on.
“Open.” His hand scrunched in her hair.
She parted her lips and stuck her ass higher, curving her back, feeling Vargr penetrate her cunt with his thumb.
They both entered her, slowly, filling her until the world was a blissful abyss. She was joined to them and they to her. In that moment she would’ve volunteered for this forever.
Rutger halted partway into her mouth. Her lips were stretched as far as they could go. He tapped her nose, and she slowly looked up at him, strung out on the bliss of two cocks in her at once.
“Never forget you’re ours. Even if the asshole back there has gone mad.” His eyes were fierce. She nodded. His cock made it impossible to do more than mumble. “And stop making him want to hurt you.”
What? She opened her eyes wider and burbled an unintelligible reply. Okay… maybe she had. Maybe?—
The fucking commenced in earnest. Whether Vargr’s cock had changed or not, she did not know, but she came once while he was thrusting into her back there, and Rutger had to pause and hurriedly pull out due to her biting him. Head down, panting, heartbeat galloping, she was recovering when they pulled her more upright but still on her knees.
Rutger possessed the chain, directed her with it, and she eyed the heavy thing, feeling the tug of momentum. The chain to her collar and Rutger holding it… she sucked in her bottom lip and eyed the magnificent beaster who loomed over her.
Until Vargr stuck himself into her full-length in one drive and ran his hand over her clit. He began toying with her, pressing, squeezing. Too soon. Far too soon. The touch on her clit was agonizing, and she squeaked.
Her attempts to evade his hand came to nothing. “Sit fucking still.” He jammed himself into her again.
Rutger moved up and kept tension on her neck, his hand full of chain as he mouthed her breast. He walked up it in bites that made her squeal and writhe.
The chain at her neck was now in Vargr’s hands, she found, and though she clutched at it she could do nothing. Laughing at her predicament, he trapped her wrists again then pistoned his cock, in and out, with her on her knees and her back against him. Hard, long body-jarring drives.
The position meant he was deep within her and stayed deep, each drive only rammed him up into her to the very limits.
“You’re wetting my balls,” he said to her, then he took a bite from her neck, and readjusted his hold on her wrists.
“Your fault,” she blurted. Cyn tested the strength of his grip. Nothing gave. His hands were rocks.
She tried to see where Rutger licked and sucked at her, but the chain stopped her. All she could see was the top of his horns. He grasped one breast in a stranglehold and nipped her belly, then slid his tongue upward from her navel. When he found her nipple and sucked, she squealed, arched.
It was so sensitive, and Vargr played her clit, massaging relentlessly, and she tensed and pressed up, going higher on her heels, higher, her thighs tensing, flexing as pleasure accumulated. “Oh. Oh.” She’d shut her eyes. Another thrust of cock from Vargr burst into her cunt, stretched her, and blew her into a second mind-rending orgasm.
She came down from the high, feeling and hearing her wetness on his cock as he fucked her, so much of it was there that her ankles slipped on her butt.
“Mouth or cunt?” Vargr asked, sounding distraught. “Fuck!” He’d released her hands, so she caved forward, palms to the floor, swaying and trying to remember how to use her muscles.
“Ass. Let me guess where you’re going.”
“Only so many holes to choose.”
She roused, put up her head. There? Vargr had looked… bigger as well as red with nanites, but Rutger was huge.
They gave her no choice and turned her, drew her to her feet. Bare soles pattered on cold floor. After he sat on the bench again, she was lifted onto Vargr’s lap. He made her spread her legs over him and pushed her down, letting his cock slowly sink in. The throb was immense. Sensitivity plus, considering she’d just come, twice.
“Fuck!” she spluttered, opened her hands on his thighs, sure she’d felt his cock expand inside as if to fit tighter into her pussy.
“Ohhh, lord. Seeing her take your cock is damn hot,” Rutger rasped. “Fuck-ing hot.”
She felt him run a wetted finger or two to her asshole while Vargr kept screwing her slow, his big hand wrapped over her neck. Rutger pushed, wormed those fingers in, using her own moisture to lubricate them. The double sensation warped her mind. It always did.
Rutger switched them out and pushed cock at her instead. After a minute or two of determined shoving, he breached the muscle circle. Her mouth fell open and she clutched at Vargr, fingernails digging into his muscles. Her pussy clamped tighter onto him, she whined at the pain, and her clit… her clit throbbed madly.
“Damn!” Vargr said. “You in? I feel you, for sure.”
“In.” He pushed again and invaded her ass, cock slowly travelling deeper. “Not far. Fuck it. Girl is too tight. Next time… dildos,” he gasped.
She smiled and wanted to cheer them on, but also wanted to just feel .
However far he managed to penetrate, the two of them in her was nirvana personified.
They fucked her remorselessly, and the double occupation of her holes swelled sensation through her that nothing else had ever surpassed. Hands clutched at her. Hot breath poured over her skin. Males pressed her to them, held her, shoved their cocks deep, made her take them both and she cried out at pain, pleasure and the need… to be theirs.
After Vargr’s last immense thrust by Vargr and spilling of his seed, Rutger followed, roaring as his cock erupted, expanded into spikes, and spurted come, jetting into her. It spilled from her as they moved, and thrust in one more time. Both fully in her.
She stayed in their great and sweaty embrace, listening to their and her gasping, the slickness of sweat and come on her, dripping, the sweat trailing beads down her back.
And Rutger swiped at her skin, wiping away that sweat, and he withdrew. Slowly he pulled out, so as not to hurt her, she assumed.
She laid her forehead on Vargr’s chest, listening to the flutter of his wings, as he rearranged them.
“When you’re ready,” Rutger said, and he must have wiped at his face from the sound, “I did find a good room. There’s water too. Better than this car yard. You can clean her butt of that blood too.” He drifted his fingertips over her ass.
Oh yes. Blood. The sting from the wires was a small background whisper compared to everything else she was feeling.
“After that we can rest,” Rutger added as he picked up clothes.
“Tomorrow we need to go help Willow read those papers. I want to find out what you are, Cyn.”
She looked up and nodded, her chin rubbing on his skin. He was still inside her, and she wasn’t ready to speak. Vargr was sounding more normal. Then she let her tongue lick a trail up his chest, and she smiled at him. She didn’t mind him, crazy or not. He tasted good.