Page 8 of His Reward
The four of us that had just been brought in were stripped and given the same treatment. My zip-ties were swapped out for leather restraints and the sack and duct tape were replaced by a blindfold and ball-gag, which, again, had all been preapproved in my waiver and preference questionnaire. And yes, I was one of the ones who got hard as he was being strung up like a window display and left to dangle in anticipation until midnight.
I briefly wondered what Oliver and Mike would think if they could see me now, arms stretched above me, slick already leaking from my hole, spit seeping out from around the ball lodged in my mouth. And all of that while standing close to a dozen other omegas in a similar position. They would probably freak out and jump to all sorts of conclusions about my mental health. I would tell them not to knock it until they tried it.
Even though I was hanging there with a bunch of other omegas, we were all so much in our own headspace that it felt like I was alone. I breathed deeply through my nose, eyes closed even with the blindfold, relaxing into my sub headspace. I was ready for it, ready to give my body and mind over to whichever alpha the Dark Fantasies Club had picked out for me. I knew his name was Boston and that he was six-foot-five with dark hair, but I’d specifically asked not to know anything else about him. For me, being savagely used by a complete stranger was part of what got me off.
I assumed it was midnight when the alpha guards started to come back in and take us omegas out one by one. There didn’t seem to be any specific order that we were removed in, although from the sounds some of the others were making, I assumed they took the ones who were already in heat first. That was just another hidden kindness the organizers offered that didn’t necessarily feel like a kindness to the omega involved.
I was glad I didn’t have to wait long, though. It couldn’t have been even twelve-fifteen yet when one of the alphas grabbed me around the middle and lifted me off my feet so he could unhook my restraints from the cage above me. I groaned at the pain of moving my shoulders again, and at the way that rush of pain fueled the pulse of pleasure that was already growing in me.
“You’re up next, blondie,” the alpha said, carrying me over to the side of the room.
We passed into another room, and I could hear the rumble of alphas laughing and cheering from a third room. The alpha sent to prep me unhooked my ankle restraints so I could walk, then removed my blindfold, though he left the ball-gag in place. I blinked at the dim room I found myself in, but there wasn’t really anything in it. Ahead of me, the same beta from the trailer stood at a door into the noisy room, and after a very short wait, he gestured for the alpha to bring me forward.
“Up next we have a blond bombshell,” Caden Kuhl said from the other end of a small stage I was marched onto.
I’d had an in-person interview with Kuhl years ago, when I’d first joined the Dark Fantasies Club, and I’d even played with him once back at the beginning. He was an incredibly nice guy who could turn on the most sadistic, insatiable Dom persona I’d ever known at the drop of a hat.
Kuhl was in that persona as I was pushed and dragged out to the center of the stage, near a black block that came up to my waist, and manhandled to face a large audience of salivating alphas.
“Here we have lot fifty-five,” he said in a hungry, dehumanizing voice. “Look how pretty he is.”
The alpha handling me jerked me around, turning me this way and that as I trembled with the patina of fear, but mostly with adrenaline and lust. The way the alphas studied me, their eyes revealing every wicked thing they wanted to do to me, their suit trousers almost universally tented in front of them had my legs going weak and slick oozing from my hole. What would it be like if someone released all those alphas from the invisible restraints holding them back and they all attacked me at once?
That was a fantasy for another day.
“This omega is twenty-five years old and, as you can see, in excellent shape,” Kuhl went on, selling me to the hungry alphas. “Firm muscle tone, beautiful mouth, and above-averageflexibility. I’m also told he’s a crier, and that he produces more than the average volume of slick.”
Those things were true. The one who had told him was me. I made no secret of the fact that I tended to cry in my scenes. It was part of the release, and a lot of alpha Doms liked that.
“Let’s show them the prize,” Kuhl went on.
The alpha who still had a firm grip on me manhandled me around to the block, facing away from the alphas, then pushed me forward so I lay across the top with my arms hanging down in front of me. The alpha pushed my thighs apart and pried my asscheeks open to show what must have been about fifty salivating alphas my slick-wet hole.
I loved it because I hated it. The humiliation was extreme. I was used to being stared at and judged by tens of thousands of people, but lying there naked, draped over a block, while my cock strained in front of me and my hole leaked slick like a fountain was a whole other level of exposed.
“I’ll start the bidding for this delicious hole at five-hundred-thousand,” Kuhl said.
“Six hundred!” one of the alphas shouted.
“Seven-fifty!” another followed.
It went on, alphas bidding a fortune for me as I dripped for them. At one point the bidding flagged a little and the alpha pulled me up and turned me to face forward. I was as hard as iron and tears streamed down my face, along with the spit from the ball-gag. That fired up the bidding again.
I vaguely knew how the auction worked for the alphas. Boston, the alpha who had been selected as my play partner, would eventually win me, but there were plants in the audience who would create a bidding war to heighten the experience. I searched the faces of the alphas who kept shouting out higher and higher numbers.
I’d figured out which one Boston was even before he shouted, “Twenty-one million!” He stood fairly close to the stage. Like the dossier I’d been given said, he was tall and muscular with dark hair. The information I’d been given beforehand hadn’t mentioned anything about how incredibly hot he was or how he looked like he could crush me with one hand.
“Sold!” Kuhl shouted, banging a gavel on his podium. “Come and collect your prize, Mr. F.”
I swallowed as much as the ball-gag would allow as the alpha handler pushed me to the side of the stage. There was a small set of stairs I was carried down into a cordoned-off area. Boston pushed his way through the other alphas, who were already focused on the stage again as the next omega was brought out, and met me and my alpha handler at the end of the cleared section.
“He’s all yours now,” the alpha said as he shoved me toward Boston. “Have fun.”
I drew in a shaky breath through my nose as Boston grabbed my upper arm, then I shuddered from head to toe as his rich, alpha scent filled me. He smelled like raw tobacco before a pipe was lit. He was a good foot taller than me, too, and twice as broad.
He grabbed my jaw with one huge hand and forced my face up so I met his eyes. Then he smiled with such sadistic joy that my knees nearly buckled and I almost came right there at the side of the auction room. “Oh, yes,” he said, his voice a deep, sensual caress. “You’re exactly what I was hoping for. I’m going to get my money’s worth out of you and all the revenge I could ask for.
Revenge? That was exciting. That meant my new alpha owner had a scenario mapped out for the scene. I was eager to play along with it.
