Chapter 18 #2
The calendar alarm went off. I didn’t check the time, since it didn’t matter. I existed on someone else’s schedule—told where to go, when to move, what to be.
The tablet kept beeping, sharp and insistent. I wasn’t in a hurry to answer it, but I didn’t have the luxury of ignoring it either. It summoned me with the same authority a client did.
Maybe more.
I walked over and glanced at the screen. Updated again, too fast, too efficient.
Of course there was a client waiting. There always was.
I used to wish the calendar showed names. Just a hint of who I’d be facing, what they might want, how to brace myself. But it never did. No notes.
Just preferences and a time.
I changed into the standard uniform—neutral, forgettable, and compliant. Then I left for the service house. Not because I wanted to. Because that’s what the schedule demanded. And I was nothing if not obedient.
Each step dragged heavier than the last. Like my feet had forgotten how to lift. Like the floor itself was trying to hold me down.
My stomach churned, solid and aching, like someone had poured gravel into it and let it settle.
No movement. Just weight. And the kind that didn’t go away.
I wanted to turn and walk away. Walk right off this compound, even though the stupid bracelet was still wrapped around my wrist. It was as though they feared I’d tried to do just that.
By the time I made it to the service house, The Vale Index, words written in gold above the entryway, sweat was coating the back of my neck.
“Charles. Good to see you, boy. Room ten today.”
I dipped my head before rounding the desk. I knew the room numbers by heart, but it wasn’t a room I was in before.
Sometimes, clients like to change things up, but over the last year, they hadn’t used any of the rooms but the color coded ones.
I adjusted my posture—shoulders relaxed, spine straight, chin neutral. Then I opened the door and stepped inside.
The pause was involuntary. A full-body freeze as my eyes swept the room. Maybe this would be the day. Maybe they’d finally decide I wasn’t worth the upkeep.
The air was cold, but it wasn’t just the temperature. The room itself felt sterile, hollow. Four walls. No windows. Just a single metal X bolted to the center of the floor like a promise.
The rubber flooring squeaked beneath my shoes with every step. Loud. Unavoidable. Like the room wanted to announce my presence—wanted me to hear myself coming. I hated that sound. It made everything feel more real. And I wasn’t ready for real.
I moved in further, shutting the door behind me. The click was louder than I intended, but it was too late to fix that.
I stayed standing. Posture perfect. Hands at my sides. Eyes forward, but not locked on anything. Just enough presence to be seen. Not enough to be remembered.
The door opened behind me slowly. I didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. I knew better.
Footsteps crossed the rubber floor, each one muffled but precise. The kind of walk that didn’t question its right to be here.
He stopped a few feet behind me. Close enough to feel the shift in the air. Close enough to remind me what came next.
“Omega,” he said.
Not a greeting. Just a statement. Like reading a label.
I nodded once. Still didn’t turn. Still didn’t speak. Because that wasn’t what I was here for.
He circled slowly, shoes squeaking against the floor, until he stood in front of me.
Sharp suit. Clean scent. Eyes that didn’t blink enough.
I recognized him now. And I knew this wouldn’t be about pain. Not the kind you could see.
This would be about control. About silence. About making me forget I ever had a voice to begin with.
It’d be a test for me. And I wasn’t sure that for once, I would pass it.
I hated this client the most out of all the others.
“I missed you, boy.” He reached out, swiping a dry thumb down my arm. “Did you miss me?”
No, I thought. “Yes, Sir.”
“Glad to hear it. Now,” he paused, stepping back at the same time. “Strip.”
Somehow, my hands stayed steady as I removed each piece of clothing. I folded each item, placing them by the door, off to the side so they wouldn’t be in the way.
When I was standing there naked as the day I was born, the Alpha looked me up and down, as though he was making sure I was still in one piece as he last saw me.
“Figured you’d be a bit bruised up. Alpha Harris is known to be a bit rough.”
I kept my mouth shut. This Alpha didn’t need to know what I did with Alpha Harris, nor would I tell anyone else, either.
“Well, no matter. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you didn’t come back.”
Already do, but again, I clamped my lips tightly together.
“On the cross, Omega.”
I jerked at the tone. It went from patronizing to commanding, a dark tent under the surface.
I stumbled, rushing to the X, the cold seeping into my skin before I even touched it.
The Alpha wasn’t gentle as he lifted one arm, then the next, trapping a thick leather strap around each wrist. My ankles followed, spread out so I fit the X like it was made for me.
The cold metal dug into my skin, most likely bruising the little muscle I had. Even though I wanted to, I couldn’t move, couldn’t run. I couldn’t escape.
“Do you have any clue how hard it was to work my magic to bring you back here? You were never meant to be serviced out. I wanted you to be on my beck and call. Mine.”
“Sorry, Sir. I can’t control who wants to hire me.” My voice shook, but I still spoke the words. My response was well programmed, just like many others.
“True. I have more say over that than a low life Omega.” He paused, moving around the room. “That doesn’t make it any better. Now, no more words or sounds from you, filthy Omega boy.”
I hated not being able to see the Alpha as he moved around the room. I followed his steps with my ears, but I had a feeling he was pacing on purpose, messing with different things that hung from the walls, to keep me in surprise.
This room wasn’t one that had been requested with me before. But that didn’t mean I didn’t know what went on in here. Past punishments were enough to let me know what was going to happen, and I already dreaded it more than ever before.
There would be pain. There would be tears. There would be tests of my training like no other time before.
Dropping my head to my chin, I breathed in deep. I forced my body to relax so the hits that would connect with my body wouldn’t hurt so badly. I forced each breath deep, waiting.
I wasn’t sure if waiting was a worse type of torture than the Alpha just getting started already.
Why take his time? Why not just get it all done and over with already?
I wanted to black out. I wanted to be anywhere but here.
“It’s almost a shame the other Alpha didn’t mark you.
” I didn’t jerk this time as a hand landed on my neck.
The fingers of this Alpha squeezed tightly, reminding me that he had the power.
“I’d have loved to mark over them, bit by bit.
But oh well. I will still mark you, claim you, as mine.
Because from now on, you will be mine. Mine to use.
Mine to play with. Mine to be served to. ”
I gulped as my head was pulled back by a handful of hair. The force was so powerful, so rough, that my head snapped backward, spine arching with the motion.
My breath caught. Not from pain, though it was there, sharp and immediate, but from the sudden loss of control.
I stared at the ceiling, eyes wide, throat exposed. Vulnerable. Exactly how he wanted me.
I didn’t speak. Didn’t resist.
Not like I could do anything with being tied to an X.
I blinked back tears, waiting. Always waiting.
This Alpha was rough, but today was worse. His anger and jealousy rolled off of him in waves.
“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.” It was a promise. Dark and filled with nothing good.
He forced my head back to where it hung to my chest. I breathed as well as I could as he gave me another good shove before stepping back.
Then, with no warning, something whistled through the air. I felt the air move right before a strike hit my back, leaving a fiery pain behind.
It took everything in me to not grunt, to not cry out in surprise, even as my body tried to shy away from the tool. It didn’t do anything, as another strike hit again.
And again.
And again.
Each leaving a fiery trail in its wake. Each mark burning, as though he was using real flames against my back.
As tears clouded my vision, I breathed through each hit. I breathed as shallow as my lungs allowed, keeping every sound, every grunt, inside.
My mind screamed with each passing second.
At some point, the Alpha stopped long enough to jerk himself off, coating my backside with his cum. It was warm and sticky, and I took a breather, still strung up like a lamb for slaughter.
But that few minutes was the only reprieve I got. A simple maybe five minutes, if that.
The Alpha switched tools, his words going in one ear at the other as he talked about how displeased he was about my behavior, even though I was doing exactly what he wanted; exactly what I was trained to do.
The next object he used against me was similar, but the tassels were harder with spikes or needles. Each hit dug into my skin, scratching more than just the surface.
I lost the battle after the third hit, tears falling from my eyes and down my face. Snot followed.
By the fourth hit, I couldn’t stop a cry from coming from my lungs.
My entire back was on fire. My skin burning from the inside out.
“Shut up, Omega.” The order was shouted, out of breath by the Alpha.
I would, but as he hit me twice in a row, my gaze grew blurry and cries shook my shoulders.
I wanted to die at that very moment.
I couldn’t live like this.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. I behaved. I always behaved. I wasn’t punished like a lot of the other Omegas.
So why did this Alpha deem me so unworthy? Why me?
“Stupid boy. Can’t even take hits properly. Weak and pathetic. Just wait, dear one. You’ll get toughed up. We’ll do this every day.”
I shook my head.
I wouldn’t survive. I’d die at the hands of this monster.
But on the next breath, what did I expect? It was the way of life.
With another hit, this one somehow wrapping its way around my throat, my breath caught in my lungs. My entire body froze as the tassel cut into my skin. It was just enough for blood to start seeping out of the thin paper cut like cuts, trailing down to join the snot and tears.
Please. Just kill me already, I begged, having no choice but to surrender to the Alpha as he got the end of the whip to wrap around my throat once again.
My tears still fell, but my mind went blank. Finally, the stupid brain took me somewhere else. Somewhere good.
There were sunflowers, swaying in the wind, bees and birds flying round. The sun was out, shining down on my bare shoulders, hugging me like no one ever had before.
I never wanted to leave. The bees could be my friends. The sun would cloak me in warmth, and everything would be good in the world again.
A scream ripped from my throat, raw and involuntary.
The field of flowers vanished in an instant—swallowed by the blinding jolt of pain that tore through the back of my right shoulder. It was sharp, searing, like something had been driven straight into bone.
The world narrowed to that single point of agony, and everything else, color, scent, memory, was gone.
As everything screamed in torment, blood dripping at points all across my skin, my mind went black.
Finally, was my last thought as the world dimmed and everything seemed to disappear around me.