Page 86 of The Beta: Part One

Fucking Greg. What a stupid fucking name. It could be worse, I could be letting some dick named Ted try to end me.

Greg makes quick work of Jasper's clothes, ripping them off my body like I'm a fucking birthday gift. He jerks my legs apart again because I snapped my knees shut the moment he took his hands off of them a minute ago, and then he shoves his fat fingers inside me. I feel the tender flesh inside me ripping under his rough attention, and it really does hurt.

I don't know what he found a moment ago, but I am desert-dry. There isn't a drop of moisture between my thighs. He gives me the growl I've heard alphas give an omega that results in slick flooding down their legs, but I don't respond. Small mercies, indeed. Apparently the quantity of heat suppressants I swallowed before embarking on this little adventure was enough to stop any natural function and flow of moisture that my body could have called forth to keep them from literally ripping me apart.

“What's wrong with her?” he growls, and not the enticing growl he tried before. This growl is full of cruel menace. The other rogue reaches down and finds me dry as a bone, then he puts his face an inch from my own so he can look at my eyes. He's looking to see if my pupils are blown with heat.

Obviously they aren't, and he snarls. “She's not in heat. What the fuck?”

The third rogue snatches up what's left of Jasper's shirt and buries his nose into it, then he jerks it away from his face and holds it up for me to see, “This is a male omega's clothing. The male is in heat. We'll have to hold her until she goes.”

Then I laugh at all of them. I laugh and laugh, letting every bit of desperation and resentment ring through. I laugh so hard that the rag dislodges and falls from my mouth, “I'll never go into heat, you stupid fucks. I”m a fucking beta.”

And then I laugh some more until good ol' Greg brings his fist down into my face and everything goes black.

When I wake up, I’m in utter misery. I feel like I'm being sawed in half vertically from the crotch up. “Oh good, she's awake.”

It isn't Greg fucking me, but when I find him staring down at me from the side of the van we're still in I can tell that he's already had his turn. He's naked and his cock is half hard and shiny with cum and blood.

“Look at me when I fuck you, little beta. You knew what you were asking for when you put on those clothes and ran through the woods, and now you'll get it. Too bad this little pussy isn't built to take a cock as big as what you're getting. Too bad you're going to be fucked bloody because you can't make the slick you’d need to take the knots you're about to get.” He grunts and shoves himself into me as far as he can get and I see stars in the worst possible way.

“No, no, sweetheart, keep looking at me. I need you to remember this. We're going to take turns fucking you until we feel better about catching a beta instead of an omega. And it's going to hurt. We're going to make it hurt. Your little ass, too. We're going to ruin you, baby. Then, after we're done, we're going to dump you on the porch of that cute little farmhouse so that pretty male omega can find you there all broken. So he can see what waits for his sweet ass after his alphas are dead. We're going to kill them, you know. One by one. Their daddies, too. Hopefully you'll live long enough to tell them that, but after we're done with you I doubt you will.” He licks the side of my face and groans when I scream into his ear as I feel him forcing his thick knot inside of me.

This isn't the first time I've taken a knot, but this is the first time I've done it in this much pain. Corso was my first, and he made sure I was so prepared to take him that all I felt was intense pleasure when he was fully seated inside me. Even fucking Seth didn't knot me. He raped me sure, but he didn't force a knot.

This is the most pain I've ever felt, it tops every injury I've ever felt, and there have been many. It feels like he's ripping into me with a bat wrapped in barbed wire and his knot is made of burning coals. It feels like I'm being pried apart with a molten poker. I can't breathe, the only thing I can do is gasp like a fish because I can't even scream. When I feel the knot finally tear its way past the burning ring of my opening I pass out again, and my last thought is that I hope I won't wake up.

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