Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Simon

I had never been so terrified in my life. I couldn't stop shaking as Victor drove away from the Dark Fantasies Club office and on to wherever he wanted to take me so that he could use me. He'd buckled me in, even though I lay on my side in the back seat of his SUV, and my trembling meant that the belt dug into my side and arm.

The thing was, I wasn't so frightened that I nearly broke into whimpers as Norwalk slipped by and Victor made several turns because of my helplessness and what I knew Victor was going to do to me once we reached our destination, I was terrified because I wanted it so badly.

I wanted to be hurt and humiliated. The way Victor had exposed me and inspected me, with someone else watching, and the way he'd almost devoured my dripping hole and nearly made me come, again with someone else watching, had made me feel like an object, a servile, sexual object, completely subject to my master's whims.

And I loved it.

Something was definitely wrong with me. So much that nothing I could do stopped me from crying into my blindfold as Victor turned into what I felt was a parking garage, by the way things suddenly went cooler and dark around me. I shouldn't want these things. I shouldn't want to feel this low. Hayden would be disgusted with me. Even Ari, who I trusted enough to ask him to be my second, would shake his head at me and say I was setting omega rights back two centuries with the things I wanted.

I was letting all omega-kind down by desperately hoping Victor would treat me like nothing more than a hole to dump his cum in.

The car stopped and the engine cut. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs. I sucked in a tight breath as Victor got out, then walked around to the door on my side, opening it and reaching for me.

"Come on, boy," he said, his voice gruff and sexy as hell. "I want to get you upstairs as quickly as possible."

He undid the seatbelt carefully, then manhandled me out of the car and onto my feet. The echoes around me, particularly when he slammed my door shut, confirmed we were in a parking garage. Maybe a large one. I didn't know if there were other people in the garage with us. For all I knew, an audience had come out to watch Victor grab my arm and march me to God only knew where, my hands still bound behind me, and blindfolded, although he'd taken the ankle ropes off so I could walk. I could feel my cock bulging through the undone zipper of my trousers as well. Anyone who saw me would know in an instant I was aroused by my treatment.

I fought to keep all sounds inside as Victor took me through a door, down a short corridor, and onto an elevator. We whooshed up for so long that I thought surely, we had to be heading to some sort of penthouse. That would make sense, given what I knew of Victory Holdings and Victor's part ownership of the company.

"Here we are, boy," Victor said when the elevator opened and he pulled me straight into a room. The fact that we didn't have to walk down a hallway and go through another door confirmed the penthouse thing.

Victor stopped and pulled off my blindfold, and more of my assumptions were confirmed as I blinked against the sudden light. We were in a large, open-plan apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the tops of most of the buildings in Norwalk. There was a kitchen area off to one side and a doorway that led to a large bedroom.

The apartment was decorated in a steely but beautiful, masculine style. It was all shades of grey with occasional blue accents. And aside from the furniture you'd expect to find in a penthouse apartment, there was a cage, a curving lounge that I knew was for sex, and what looked like a wide ladder against the wall with various rings at the top and bottom.

I tried to catch my breath but couldn't. What had I gotten myself into? And why did it have me so hard my balls ached and my hole dripped like I was in heat? Victor could torture me if he wanted to, and I wouldn't be able to escape. Why did that appeal to me so much?

"You like what you see?" Victor asked, moving to stand in front of me.

When I was slow to answer, or even look at him, he grabbed my jaw in one, huge hand and forced my face up to him. The forceful gesture sent a shiver of longing through me.

"I said, do you like what you see, boy?" Victor repeated, his voice harsh, but his eyes somehow warm.

"Y-yes," I whispered.

"That's ‘yes, Master'," he said, tightening his grip on my jaw.

"Yes, Master," I gasped.

He studied my face for a second in a way I wasn't sure I liked, like he was trying to see through me, see into my soul. He was trying to figure me out.

I didn't want him to figure me out. I wanted him to use me.

He seemed to feel that thought and let go of my jaw, stepping around to untie my wrists.

"Let's get you out of these useless clothes," he said, tossing the rope aside, then grabbing the bottom of my shirt and sweeping it up over my head, still behind me. "Slaves don't deserve clothes, and I don't want to bother removing them every time I want to bury my cock in something."

My breaths came in short, shallow pants as he tossed my shirt aside, then came around to undo the button on my trousers. Yes. That was exactly the way I wanted to be treated.

I was so ashamed.

Victor crouched for a moment to remove my shoes, then roughly tugged my trousers and underwear down, tapping my calves as a signal to step out of them. I shook horribly once I stood naked in front of him. It wasn't just being unclothed, I felt so desperately exposed.

The way Victor raked his gaze over me, inspecting my body, only added to that feeling.

"Such a pretty boy," he said, smiling like a predator as he stood, sweeping his hands over as much of my skin as he could. "That's why I wanted you. Because you're beautiful. You're a work of art."

My insides thrilled at the praise, all the way down to my primitive omega core. My master was pleased with me. My balls ached and my cock stood proud at that praise.

Victor noticed. How could he not? He grabbed my balls with one hand and squeezed until I moaned.

"These belong to me," he said, increasing the pressure of his hold until the pain of it radiated through me. "And this."

He moved his hand to stroke my weeping cock gently, sending a contrasting jolt of pleasure through me that had my head spinning.

"You will not come unless I tell you to," he ordered me. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," I gasped breathlessly.

He continued to stroke his hand up my belly. My primitive omega nearly screamed for him to force his seed into my womb so I could dutifully bear his children. It was a good thing I'd just finished my heat, because if I'd gone into heat now, I would have howled and begged to be impregnated, and my life definitely wasn't ready for a baby…yet.

He shifted a bit, stroking my chest with both hands, then pinching my nipples until I writhed with pain.

"I like to see my boy suffer for me," he said, fire in his eyes as he looked down on me. "Enduring the pain I give you is a show of your obedience and love for me."

He twisted my nipples a bit until I blurted out, "Yes, Master!"

Victor sucked in a breath. It was just the beginning of our fantasy, but I could feel how pleased Victor was and how excited our scene was making him.

He let go of my nipples, causing me to gasp for breath, then brushed his hand up my neck to caress my face. Then he thrust two fingers deep into my mouth.

I gagged with the suddenness of the gesture. In heat, I wouldn't have had any gag reflux, or at least it would be a mild one. That wasn't the case now, but I made no move to jerk away or expel his fingers.

Victor hummed like I'd passed some sort of test, and as if he liked it.

"On your knees, boy," he said, taking his fingers away at last. "Show me if you know your place and your kneeling pose."

I dropped at once to my knees, moving swiftly into the pose I'd studied for so long and even practiced in the privacy of my own bedroom. I'd practiced all the slave poses I could find online, getting off on the image of myself in the mirror, but it was different doing something like that for another person, for an alpha. For Victor.

Victor's brow lifted, impressed. He walked around me, kicking off his shoes and removing his suit jacket—God, he looked amazing in his suit—as he did. Those gestures, combined with his scrutiny, had me hard and leaking from my cock and hole.

"Very pretty," he said, tossing his jacket aside, then taking a moment to force my shoulders back more and to stroke my head. "Someone's been practicing."

I blushed with shame and lowered my head just as Victor came around to stand in front of me.

He grabbed my jaw again and forced my head up. "I didn't tell you to look down, boy," he said, narrowing his eyes a little as he studied me.

"N-no, Master."

Victor continued his scrutiny, using his foot to push my knees wider. I felt so on display, my tight balls and hard cock vulnerable to him. I was struggling not to come already, but when Victor removed his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and trousers, and undressed right in front of me, I nearly whined with my efforts not to shoot all over his carpet.

Victor had an amazing body. I didn't know whether it was his natural alpha physique or if he worked out, but he was all hard muscle and firm lines. His chest had just enough hair, which formed into a line that ran down to his groin. His thighs were thick and powerful, and his arms were much more muscular than they appeared in his suit.

But it was his cock and balls that had me salivating as he stepped out of his trousers and stood with them right in front of my face. He was large, even for an alpha. His balls looked like they were over-full and eager to empty. Into me. His cock had a slight upward curve to it, and his flared head was already beaded with pre-cum.

"Worship it," Victor said in sharp, deep tones.

Those words rolled through me like reverberations from a gong being struck. The cruel edge to them had slick dripping out of me as I immediately leaned forward, mouth open, to slide his tip past my lips.

I groaned and closed my eyes with pleasure as Victor's salty taste and his rich, almost overpowering alpha scent encompassed me. I couldn't even describe his scent, it was so unique. It was like leather, oak, and spice all rolled together. I breathed it in as I swallowed his cock until I choked myself, wanting to bathe in it.

I liked sucking alpha cock. That was another embarrassing fetish I would never, ever admit to Hayden, or any of my other friends. I liked the physical sensation of my mouth being filled, my jaw stretched, and my throat spasming as an alpha pushed into me. So much that I'd had more than a few anonymous encounters in public bathrooms and office supply rooms just so I could have an alpha use my mouth.

Those encounters had just been a few minutes, and the alphas had been just as nervous as I'd been. This fantasy was something entirely different.

"Beautiful boy," Victor gasped, grabbing handfuls of my hair. "So open. So obedient."

My insides filled with joy and warmth at his praise. Yes. I was a good little slave. I would do whatever my master wanted to please him.

The heat of shame filled me as Victor pumped deeper into my throat, causing my stomach to rebel. I ignored that feeling, letting everything go and giving my body over to my master for whatever he wanted. I'd never been able to fully do that before, not even while being serviced by emergency support alphas from Bangers & Mash during my heats.

"God, you're a natural," Victor said, his voice strangled, as he continued to thrust.

I was certain he would come down my throat, but he surprised me by pulling out. I glanced up at him with glassy, tear-filled eyes as I sucked in air, a little hurt that he wouldn't take his pleasure in my throat.

Victor had other things in mind, though. I could tell I'd ignited something in him by the way he looked down at me with lust and craving in his eyes.

He didn't say anything when he grabbed me under one arm and wrenched me unsteadily to my feet. I sensed he was beyond words as he dragged me over to the curving, leather sex couch, pushing me forward over it.

"Not what I had planned," he whispered harshly, mostly to himself, like a few words of what he was thinking slipped out of him.

I was tumbled forward over the couch, ass high in the air, my position too awkward to move. I didn't want to move. I went completely pliable as Victor shoved my legs apart, opening my obscenely wet hole to him. I didn't make a single move to protect myself or to escape as he moved behind me, grasping my hips, and guiding his cock to my hole.

I cried out when he thrust into me, hard. It was sudden and fierce, like he just wanted to fuck something and didn't care who or what I was. I wasn't in heat, so my hole wasn't as loose and open as it could have been. The thickness and aggression of his cock felt like it was splitting me open. I stretched painfully, feeling violated and dirty as he pumped deeper and deeper into me, rearranging my insides.

I wept uncontrollably as he fucked me like he was going for a record. We hadn't been in his apartment for more than ten minutes, and already I was being used like a sex toy. It hurt a little, but felt so, so good. I was folded over in a humiliating position, not really a part of Victor's pleasure.

I loved it so much. It was everything I'd dreamed of and more. My tears were tears of joy as Victor thrust and grunted, gripping my hips to the point of bruising. My hard cock rubbed against the leather of the couch, but I willed myself not to come. And when Victor grunted as he started to come, I cried even more, feeling as though I'd finally, finally found my place in the world.

When Victor's orgasm faded, he slumped over me for a moment, panting. I also thought he was breathing my scent in. His cock remained inside me, and I mourned the fact that we weren't knotted. I wanted to give my master my heat, let him knot me, and give him as many breeding orgasms as he could handle. He was my master. Those things were his to have.

I felt bereft when he pulled out. I didn't move. He hadn't told me to. I just lay where I was, panting with the painful need to come, but willing myself not to.

As if he could sense my efforts, Victor pulled my hips back enough so that my rigid cock stood out from my body, pressed against the black of the couch as it dripped.

"Good, good, boy," Victor panted, trying to find his breath. "Still hard and wanting."

As if to test my resolve, he stroked the underside of my cock. I moaned at the pleasure, but fought not to come even a little bit.

Victor pushed my legs farther apart, then took a few steps back. He was silent for a moment, but I knew what he was doing. He was looking at me as my hole dripped slick and his cum, and as my cock dripped onto the floor under me. I could feel the tickle of liquid running slowly down my inner thighs.

"A work of art," Victor said, repeating his earlier statement. "I think I'll call it ‘Slutty Slave'. I should have known you'd be a perfect, submissive whore when I picked you out to be mine."

His words were absolutely designed to shame and humiliate me, and they did. They also made me feel so, so good in a way I'd only dreamed of. I was a perfect, submissive whore, even though I cringed at that word. My master could use me however he liked, and I would relish it.

"I'm just going to look at my handiwork while I have refreshments," Victor said.

I heard him move into the kitchen. The sink ran for a minute, making me think he was cleaning himself up, then the fridge opened and closed. I listened to him fix some sort of snack, and, if I wasn't mistaken, fill a tea kettle so he could make tea.

I was relatively certain he was deliberately taking his time while I lay limp over the sex couch, hole still dripping, cock still hard. Yes, still hard, because showing subservience to my master by remaining perfectly still and debauched aroused me so much I thought I might lose my mind with need.

After a few minutes, I heard Victor bring a chair around, then sit about six feet behind me. He hummed with pleasure, then sipped whatever drink he'd made before saying, "Beautiful."

I could only imagine what I looked like, spread the way I was. I could feel rivulets of my slick and his cum all the way down my thighs to my calves now, which was mostly because my hole was still producing slick like I was desperate to be fucked again. Because I was. My cock was still painfully hard, and I imagined my hole was red and stretched and fucked-out.

"Do you want to come?" Victor asked after a few minutes.

"Yes, Master," I panted, feeling like I could if he gave the order.

He hummed, then said, "Yes, you look like you do. But not yet. I want you to come with my cock in you, so I can feel it, and I'm not quite ready to go again yet."

"Yes, Master," I moaned, letting my disappointment and desperation show in my voice.

I couldn't say why, but I knew he liked that.

"I have some work to do right now, but I'll allow you to hold my cock while I get it done," he said.

"Thank you, Master," I said.

I heard him catch his breath slightly. I worried that I'd poured it on too thickly, that I was getting way over-involved in the fantasy. Were people supposed to go all-in when they played this way? I'd always gotten the impression that Hayden had played with a wink and a nudge, not truly serious about his scenes, even when he'd met Mason through a fantasy. Was I doing it wrong by throwing myself completely into my slave role?

"Right," Victor said, standing and heading back to the kitchen. "I just need to take care of a few things, then maybe I'll let you come while you bounce on my cock."

"Yes, Master," I sighed as I listened to him clean up some dishes.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this happy, or this relaxed, even though I was bristling with denial.

At the same time, I was ashamed down to the marrow of my bones. Something was horribly wrong with me. Omegas were supposed to be proud and strong. We were not supposed to want alphas to treat us like fuck toys. I was a disgrace to omegas everywhere by wanting Victor to humiliate me even more than he already had.