Chapter 17
“Thanks, boss for the assist,” I say to Corbin as we unload all three scumbag alphas out of the panel van. Mark crowed like a bitch when Everest interrogated him. Nothing like a knife to the cock to wake up to.
Too bad the three of them will have their cocks filleted by us before they die screaming.
“You look really fucking scary when you’re thinking about killing people,” Corbin grunts as we walk through the warehouse. My lips twitch, which makes people scurry away from me.
Now I look unhinged. Perfect.
“So who are these assholes anyway?” Corbin asks as we stroll into the room we’ve reserved for Mark’s pack.
It was a stroke of luck that he was at the grocery store today, but I also don’t like how close he was to us. I trust Flynn to get Wren home safely while we properly execute the men who hurt her.
“They hurt my omega,” I growl, looking at the filth hanging from chains in front of me. “Remember Jasper’s sister? Not only did we find her, but she’s also my scent match and now bonded to me.”
“Fuck, way to bury the lead there. Oye,” Corbin grunts, shaking his head. “I want to hear all about it once you’re done over a drink. It’s been too busy around here as we douse fires to find the next one.”
“Wouldn’t mind a drink after this,” Ambrose mutters as he peruses the torture options on the table. His fingers twitch as he pulls on a pair of black gloves, and his hair is starting to fall out of his bun from how many times he’s fucked with it.
“We’ll be by after,” I promise. Corbin nods before smirking and filling up ice in a bucket with water. Everest knocked out the three alphas strung up right now in the van to get out some aggression, so I guess our boss is going to wake them up.
Sweet of him. The smirk widens into an evil grin as he walks over and throws the freezing cold water over the three alphas. Wrinkling my nose as they gasp and curse, I thank Corbin as he tosses the bucket to the side proudly and walks out.
My boss is an asshole, but a really good alpha.
“Rise and shine, buttercups,” Ambrose crows as he picks up some large scissors. Everest chuckles as he grabs some shears as well and they begin to cut off the alphas’ clothing. “That’s just nasty, fuck. Is it molding? Gross.”
Moving over to them, I take in Craig’s paunch, Bruce’s yellow eyes, and Mark’s greasy hair. Their scents are noxious, and their bodies are fighting against their natures. Most alphas have great bodies, glowing skin, and look healthy.
These alphas appear sick.
“Preying on omegas is making you weak,” I growl, getting in Craig’s face. “We are made with instincts to protect them, and the way you hurt my omega is disturbing.”
“Trey gave her to us,” Bruce snivels, attempting to writhe away from Everest’s shears. Asshole is going to get cut that way, and I don’t want this to end too quickly.
Pulling a knife from my back pocket, I open the large blade, holding it to his throat.
“Hold still,” I grunt. “I don’t care if he forced you to fuck her, which I know didn’t happen, it was still wrong. She was sixteen years old!”
I gulp in a breath, attempting to relax, because I need to pace myself. I can’t lose control. I’m better than this.
“Any of you know where Trey lives?” Ambrose asks nonchalantly, tossing the rest of Craig and Mark’s clothes to the side. The man has no problems with being productive.
Everest leans back as he surveys his handiwork. The three of them are naked now, pathetic dicks hanging out in the wind.
“No, man,” Bruce blubbers. Pathetic. “We were blindfolded the entire time whenever we went to visit him. The man is a hermit, but he does occasionally have people over for big business meetings.”
“So it was dinner and a show?” Everest asks, lips pursed. The scent of fried onions is growing stronger, along with the stench of body odor. All I need is for one of them to shit themselves.
“I mean kind of?” Craig rumbles. Ambrose turns away, to both compose himself and find his next weapon of choice.
“Go on,” I grunt, almost sounding bored. Instead, my heart is beating hard. I can feel the rage inside of Amb just before he locks it down. He’s heard her cries and screams more than I have while she sleeps, and now some of the rapists who hurt her are right in front of us.
“No one is able to find an omega as young as he did,” Craig explains. “She was so well trained, fuck, it’s the best night of fucking I’ve ever had. She split so perfectly around my cock.”
“Speaking of splitting perfectly,” Amb mutters, picking up a very sharp, delicate blade. “Don’t move or I may just cut the entire miserable thing off.”
Amb starts with Craig, dragging a chair over to him. The screech of the metal legs on the ground never fails to make the men we’re punishing cower.
“What are you doing with that knife, man?” Mark screeches, kicking his feet out.
Grinning, I turn to the wall display, hitting a button that turns the hooks Mark and Bruce are hanging from away from Craig. Mark accidentally kicks Bruce in the knot, making me howl with laughter. Fucking idiots. Lifting a bat, I toss a high volt taser to Everest.
“Let’s loosen them up for Amb, babe,” I say, grinning maniacally. Here, I get to let my crazy out. At home, I’m protective and a little growly, but this allows me to keep such great control.
If all alphas were killers, maybe the world would be a better place?
Standing in front of Bruce, I give him a sick grin as I swing at his ribs with all of my strength. Everest howls as he sparks the taser in Mark’s face before shoving it in his side, while Amb starts to sing Shake It Off by Taylor Swift as he begins to cut up Craig’s cock. Hmmm… fitting.
“You’re fucking sick. Help! Oh God! I need that!” Craig screams as he cries.
God, he’s annoying. I start to sing Shake it Off with Amb as I continue to tenderize Bruce before I toss the metal bat away. Hmm… I think I want to try my skills at Penis Picasso too.
“How’s your masterpiece going?” I ask, walking around the bodies to glance down at Amb’s handiwork.
“I think it’s coming along,” he says with a smirk. The penis is sliced open in three parts like a banana as he works, and Craig is completely passed out. “I want to see how my knife handles his knot.”
“Best penis artwork buys dinner,” I grunt, moving to pick up a scalpel. Huh, I should be able to do decent work with that.
“Wait, fuck, don’t pass out, douchebag,” Everest complains. “What are we doing now? I don’t want to be left out!”
Snickering, I look over the blades on the table and pick up one of Everest’s favorites. It’ll work like a scalpel, but the handle will fit better in his palm. Bruce is hanging dazed in front of me, as I hand the scalpel to Everest.
“Penis Picasso. Best one buys dinner. No peeking,” I tell him, turning to grab my own metal chair. Dragging it against the ground is just a perk for me, as I watch Bruce gasp and wake up.
Perfect.
The next three hours, Everest, Amb, and I compete against each other with our knives. Filleted penis is how we begin, working carefully as we slice the skin away, not giving a shit if we leave their urethra intact or not. They won’t need to piss correctly ever again.
Bruce’s penis is beginning to take on the look of a cactus, the large bulbous tip working in my favor as I cut. Everest hums to himself as he cuts as well, snorting at each gushing burst of blood as he slices.
“They’re like stuck pigs!” he crows. “Fuck, this is going to make it difficult to see. You want me to lose, don’t you, Mark?”
Mark can only cry as Everest complains as he works, and I tune him out.
Our slicing moves on over time to cutting away the skin from their legs slowly until just their tendons show, skinning them meticulously.
The blood pools at the drain before dripping slowly down it, which will make clean up later easier. Corbin is too good to us with our torture rooms. Finally we get to my personal favorite, cutting out their eyes. The sightless holes just seem to settle something inside of me, making me smirk.
“Okay, I’m bored,” I sigh, staring at my handiwork. “Blowtorches anyone?”
The alphas haven’t stopped screaming, and it’s starting to give me a headache.
“What the fuck! Are you seriously pissing right now?” Everest gasps, backing up quickly.
Mark cries despite his lack of eyeballs, but he’s also leaking from his ruined penis like a fountain.
“I wondered if he’d be able to piss,” I murmur. “That’s so cool!”
Amb snorts as he walks around the hanging bodies to check out our handiwork. “It doesn’t feel like enough,” he grunts. “I need to give her a courting gift. Is giving her the heads of her rapists too much? It is, right?”
This is adorable. My lips spread wide in a grin as I weigh our options. The pack in front of me is hanging broken and ruined, and it’s still not enough. “I don’t think it is, but dragging heads home is messy, Amb,” I console him. “Why don’t we take photos, so she can see our work, and know these alphas will never hurt her again. Would that work?”
“Yeah,” he says slowly, nodding, “After the blowtorch though.”
“We need to make sure to preserve the heads too,” Everest muses. “God, I still feel like they haven’t screamed enough. Something is missing.”
“God, can we gag them or something? They’re giving me a fucking headache,” I complain. I check the bonds to see how Flynn and Wren are doing and feel lust and pleasure.
They’re definitely fucking. It’s honestly a great way to keep both of their minds off this.
“Wren says that her alpha refused to let her slick,” Amb muses. “I’m not sticking my fist up their ass, but I’m sure we can find something else.”
Strolling over to the table, he grins as he picks up a thick wooden spike. It’s three feet long, sharp, and perfect for impaling. It even has a handle for keeping a good grip. Our boss really does spoil us with the nicest torture devices.
“The splinters will be brutal,” I snicker as I walk over to find several more on the table. “Ground rules?”
“Yes, Alpha,” Amb purrs, making me groan. Fuck me. The thick scent of caramel and my arousal fill the air, and Amb and Everest adjust their cocks. I’m hard on a good day with some satisfying torture, but there’s something about being in charge that does it for me.
I want to create a scene one day with my omegas, calling the shots for every move and orgasm. First, Wren has to heal a little more before she’ll be ready for that I think.
“Goddamn, feeling both your arousal is as hot as feeling my own,” Everest teases as he saunters over. “Are we playing skewer the alpha then? Yes, Alpha, please give us our marching orders.”
“First one who gets this up their alpha scum’s ass without him passing out, wins,” I growl. “You can ram it as hard as you want, just make sure he fucking stays awake.”
Cackling like hyenas, they each pick up their spear. Everest smacks Mark in the shoulder with his new weapon, startling him awake. Fucker had passed out.
“Wake up, Markie! The fun is about to begin!” Everest crows. “Trust me, you’re not going to want to miss this.”
Amb hits Craig across the face as I roll my eyes, all three of them blind, but retaining their tongues. That’ll go before the blow torch because it feels right for us to strip them of all of their faculties.
Just like they stole from our omega.
I plan to wake up Bruce by unceremoniously shoving this stick up his ass. Finding a dirty rag, I shove it in his mouth, pushing it deep so it’ll mute the noise. The alpha struggles a little, but remains unconscious.
Amb sighs, finding a rag and doing the same for Craig.
“I swear, you and your overstimulation, baby,” he murmurs. “The things I do for love.”
Ugh, it would be fine if they didn’t scream like whiny babies. Everest merely grabs his rag without complaint, shoving it down Mark’s throat until he gags. I walk over to the control panel on the wall, turning Craig around so they all face the same way.
Smirking, I heft the weight of my implementation device, excited to see how well it’ll rip his tiny asshole apart. No lube, no enjoyment. Game fucking on.
“On the count of three,” I lecture as we get into position. Unfortunately, it means pulling apart each alpha’s ass cheeks to get a view of their puckered hole.
Everest makesa face as he lines up his spike, and I grin as I draw out the anticipation. Poor Bruce doesn’t know what’s about to be shoved up his ass. Just the way I want it.
“One, two, three!” I yell, thrusting hard into his asshole. Bruce screams as he jerks awake, but thankfully they’re muffled by the gag.
Amb has an interesting twist and thrust sort of form as he works, making sure to leave splinters behind. These spikes weren’t sanded down completely, outside of where our hands are holding it. It’s perfect.
Everest on the other hand, doesn’t give a shit about form, pushing and pulling his wooden shaft in and out as he goes. There’s a bit of blood that seems to form, which he uses to shove it even deeper.
“Fuck,” I swear as I see the method to his madness. Hating to lose, I begin to push and twist the wood at an angle, shredding the delicate internal cavity. Bruce’s asshole splits perfectly. “They’ll never have a normal shit again.”
Everest snickers as he works, pulling out almost to the tip before shoving it in as hard as possible. Mark shudders as he screams, back bowing in agony. Still, all three of them stay awake with the pain. Damn, this contest may end up being a draw. Together, we work, singing the most ridiculous songs because it’s hilarious.
“Mmmbop!” I begin, making Amb burst out laughing. Listen, there’s nothing like using the rhythm of a Hanson song to really get into a groove. Everyone should try this.
Finally, Mark passes out first, with just an inch to spare. Walking around, I can see the bulge in his stomach from the wood, and all of them have blood running down their legs from our torture.
“Eh, not bad, though. They all lasted longer than I thought they would,” I admit. “Bruce looks like he’s starting to fade, and I’m pretty sure that Craig passed out a second after Mark. Shall we bring out the blow torches?”
“Yeah, I just need to take some dick pics,” Everest says with a wild grin as he pulls off his bloody gloves and tosses them in the garbage. Reaching for his phone in his back pocket, he makes certain to take photos of each filleted open penis.
I have to say I really like mine. It has the best lines, while Amb’s looks like a Venus flytrap, and Everest split his into sections so it almost looks like a flower. Amb got really into his cutting. Eh, art is art.
Moving over to pick up a blow torch, I decide to make sure to hold their heads back as I light them up. I’m cutting it off at the end, I want him to feel every second of pain before he dies.
Everest finishes with his photos, and he and Amb walk over to select their blow torch.
“I vote that gasoline is overkill,” I explain. “The flame will be hot enough without going overboard. It’ll keep them alive for longer as well. What do you think about lighting their hairy knots first and going up from there? Also, let’s make sure to keep their heads back for when we cut them off.”
“God, why is it so hot when you’re in charge,” Everest grunts, grabbing my hair to kiss me hard. Grinning as I lean in, I don’t even care if I may end up with some blood on me. This is why we keep clothes here.
“Agreed,” Amb purrs, pulling me to him to grind his cock against mine.
“Fuck,” I groan into his mouth. “We need to make sure we kill them before we fuck. I don’t know how long the assholes will live.”
Shrugging, Amb steps back to move toward our captives.
“I want to be in the photo with the head,” he insists. “It’s my courting photo.”
Rolling my eyes because I’m already bonded to her and I don’t need the accolades, I nod. “Everest, anything to say about this?” I ask, walking slowly with him toward our captives.
The alpha’s eyes are empty, but their faces are the perfect picture of horror. They flinch every time one of our footsteps strikes the ground with our heavy boots, sensory deprivation working in our favor. Smirking, I turn on the blow torch.
There’s a very specific sound it makes, and even a smell. God, it’s one of my favorite things during a really good torture session. Fuck, this is satisfying.
Whimpers and groans sound around the gags, and Amb and Everest fist bump each other as they turn on their torches. Grabbing Mark’s hair to keep his head back, Everest shrugs.
“If Amb is gonna be in the photo, then I do too,” he grunts, making Amb chuckle.
These knuckleheads are impossible, but they’re mine. Amb and I mimic Everest’s movements, and together we each move the torches to the alpha’s knots in question.
“We’ve tortured a lot of people over the years,” I say as the scent of burned hair and skin fill the room. “I think this may be one of my favorites.”
“You’re not outside of the karmic scales,” Everest intones as he slowly glides the torch up Mark’s skin. I move as he does, loving the pain we force upon them as they scream. “Omegas are precious, and your actions have unbalanced the scales.”
“Meet what happens when the dark opens its eyes,” Amb says slowly with an evil laugh.
“Boo, motherfuckers,” I growl. The skin chars and bubbles beautifully, the fire so hot that it also forces the skin to melt. Somehow, the three of them are still alive as we reach their necks, and we move to the side as they continue to burn.
“Shall we take their tongues while they’re alive?” I suggest, turning off the blow torch and gently tossing it into a carton by my feet.
The guys echo my actions with a nod, and we each pull a blade from our pants. We carry multiple weapons even on a short trip to the store, and it’s because sometimes work calls at inopportune times.
Holding the handle in between my teeth, I shove my fingers into Bruce’s mouth to fish out the rag.
There’s blood and unmentionable things on my glove, making me grin around the handle of my blade as I toss the rag away. Releasing the asshole’s hair, I frown, knowing his tongue will be slippery.
“Nah, I don’t want to deal with that,” I mutter, walking back to the table.
“Please, I have money. Please! Argh God!” Bruce screams as he continues to burn.
“That’s nice for you,” I tell him as I pick up the tongue forceps I was looking for. “Anyone else want forceps?”
“I’ll take a pair,” Amb says conversationally as if we’re talking about a pair of scissors or sunglasses. My smile is smug as I walk back.
Everest, on the other hand, has a tight hold on Mark’s tongue, eyes sparkling as if he’s caught a wiggly fish. Reaching into Bruce’s mouth with the forceps, I pull his tongue out of his mouth forcefully. Amb does the same with a nod, his black eyes appearing soulless and angry.
“Would you three like to know why I don’t give a fuck about your money?” I ask. Not waiting for an answer, because I don’t fucking care, I begin to work on sawing off Bruce’s tongue. The three alphas scream and gag as the blood begins to pour out, forcing them to swallow it since they can’t spit at the moment.
“You give the best bedtime stories,” Amb says with a snicker as he happily saws away at Craig’s thick tongue.
“Well thanks, lover,” I say with a grin, blowing him a kiss. “We have more money than we know what to do with, and you’re the scumbags who hurt our omega. She”s under our protection, even for crimes before she met us. So this is for Wren.”
“Fucking disgusting. Mark is pissing all over my boots,” Everest complains. “God, you’re such a terrible waste of an alpha.”
The tongues are cut free and we dramatically toss them to the ground. They can’t see it, but it makes us happy. Stomping on them, destroying what used to be their tongues, that’s for them.
“Heads,” I grunt. “I’ll take the smaller chainsaw, I think.”
“Machete for me,” Everest says with a wild look in his eyes as he follows me to the table. Someone is going to need to be fucked when he gets home. I wonder who will get the honor.
“Ax,” Amb decides. “Yep. That’s what I want.”
Picking up our hacking tool of choice, we stand behind our alpha, pulling back their head as we saw and hack away. With a bark of laughter, Everest decides it’s too quiet as the alphas are still alive, and it’s a bloodbath as their jugular veins begin to spray everywhere.
The blood feels warm as it hits my face, and I glance over at Everest as he sings Bye bye bye by *NSYNC. Snorting out a laugh, I shrug because it’s fitting. Singing at the top of our lungs, we sound drunk as we work.
“Victory!” I yell as my alpha’s head comes free.
“Fuck,” Everest grunts as he struggles to hack at the last tendon to free the head. “Second!”
God, this is what happens when we compete over everything.
“Argh, shit,” Amb says with a laugh as he finishes hacking away. “We’re kind of a mess for a photo.”
Shrugging, I walk over to an empty stainless steel table and place my head on it.
“Whatever, I’ll even be in the photo with you, and then we can clean up and shower,” I tell them.
The guys come over with their heads, and I pull off my gloves to throw them in the trash. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I open the camera in selfie mode.
“One photo, and then this silliness is over,” I grunt as we all grin with our decapitated heads. The smiles are stained with blood, there’s thick red color in our hair, clothes, and splattered across our faces.
It was a damn good execution. Taking the photo, I chuckle at how ridiculous our lives are.
“Let’s clean up and go see our omegas. Fuck, we need to dispose of the bodies as well,” I groan, moving over to hanging corpses.
A knock on the heavy steel door sounds, making me turn and draw my gun. No one should be disturbing us.
“Yeah?” I ask.
Opening the door, Corbin pops his head in. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. It looks like it went well?”
“Yeah, just finishing but we need to clean up,” I explain.
Shaking his head, he turns and yells, “Zack, Liam, get your asses over here!”
I hear running before Corbin opens the door wide to show two young men in front of us. They can’t be any older than we were when we first started officially working for the mafia at eighteen.
“They’re done with the room. You’re to scrub it clean and then feed the bodies to the incinerator. Grind anything that remains and bag it up. I’ll take care of it. Understood?” Corbin asks.
“Yes, Sir,” they bark, eyes wide as they take in the room.
Shrugging, I decide to go with it. They need to learn what they’re in for.
“Thanks, guys,” I tell them, walking out of the room with Everest and Amb. The men in the warehouse stare at us with wide eyes as we walk through to the office Corbin keeps.
“A bit dramatic, but it’s good to keep them on their toes,” Corbin says with a dark chuckle as we enter. “Clothes and towels are in the bathroom. Clean up, and there will be whiskey when you get out. Please, don’t fuck too loudly if you need a celebratory bang.”
Snorting, I shrug and decide to do just that as I follow my pack mates into the bathroom. It’s nice to be important enough to be able to do whatever you want. Even if it is fucking my mouthy alpha’s tight hole in the shower. Everest’s moans were amazing as the blood rinsed from his body, and Amb sucked his cock.
Yep, a celebratory fuck is exactly what we needed.