Page 2 of Retribution

Isolde

Am I broken? No, but I’m now determined to get sold. There is a pack out there that will be easily lulled by my full lips and perky tits, who will underestimate me. I can’t survive much longer at the warehouse with Madam Ophelia’s drugs that force my body to lie to me.

I’ve been here for almost three years at this point, and I’m worried the next forced heat may break me. Instead of having a natural heat once every two months, the alphas of the warehouse use me as their fuck toy because they can control how long I’ll be under the thrall of the drugs.

Madam Ophelia told them she wants to test how well the new batch of drugs she’s making works, so they’ve been playing with the dosage. Sometimes they’re pills, others a syringe of medication.

The knowledge that they’re being tested so they can be used for more widespread purposes makes me physically ill.Somehow, the phantom screams and misery of those who will experience these drugs after me follow me around, invades what sleep I’m able to get, slowly making me insane.

I need to get out.Therefore, I don’t fight anymore, refuse to challenge anyone with my gaze, and force myself to be submissive.

“It’s time,” Madam Ophelia says, startling me. “You’re going to auction. There’s several packs of alphas who want someone who looks exactly like you. A pretty little doll to fuck and breed.”

Passive, I don’t fight her as she pulls me up from my small pallet on the floor of the warehouse. I’m wearing a pair of tiny shorts and a scrap of a shirt, and I’m pretty sure I smell. I’m dying for a shower, but the price will be high for it.

Nothing is free here.

“This is your last chance,” Ophelia snarls. “No attitude, girl.”

Blinking, I nod rapidly as she drags me through the halls until we enter the large back area behind the auction hall. She keeps me pretty well groomed outside of not being able to bathe regularly, which is more for the alphas’ sake than mine. They insist on pristine omega pussy while they’re training.

It’s bizarre to me that she caters to her employees like this, while treating me like a mindless slicking machine. That’s what her inventory is for her, things that make her money.

I’m unsurprised she wants to sell me since I’ve been here for so long. Outside of being her experimental guinea pig, all I’ve done is eat her food and take up space.

“This is your chance to pay me back for all the years I’ve spent keeping you alive,” she continues.

I want to tune her out, but on the off-chance that she actually has something important to say, I can’t. Ophelia continues to rant as she pushes me into a bathroom, the floor a dull concrete that’s easy to clean.

Shuddering as I think of all the things that could happen in here, my eyes widen as I gaze at her.

“Good, you’re paying attention,” she mutters. “If you aren’t sold tonight, I’m going to give you to Pack Dresmond. Rock comes in here periodically to fuck and kill the girls who won’t make us money. I’ve been protecting you from him. Let’s go, take your clothes off and shower, lazy bag of bones.”

I’m on the thinner side because she only feeds me once a day. When she’s pissed at me, which is often, she’ll refuse me even that. Hurriedly, I pull my clothes off as she demands, then turn on the shower and get in.

I’m not going to fuck up this slim chance at freedom. Pack Dresmond is a psychotic pack, and every omega fears being given to them if they spend too much time as inventory. Rock is Ophelia’s business partner, and his pack gets bored waiting for him to finish his meetings with her.

In an effort to keep them happy, Ophelia will sacrifice people. Without Rock to curb their appetites, the omega doesn’t typically survive the encounter. That’s not how I plan to die.

Quickly washing my hair and body, I stand in front of Ophelia as I await inspection.

“Switch off the water. Turn around, bend over, and spread your asscheeks wide,” she says. It’s so nonchalant, I’m unsure if that’s what she meant until the bland look on her features begins to change to fury.

Fuck. A test. There’s always one or several when it comes to her. I can’t fail, I have to get the fuck out of here. The sad thing is this isn’t the most humiliating thing I’ve ever endured.

It is something I need to choose to do, which still makes it demeaning. My face is impassive even as my heart begins to pound, my feet leaden as I force myself to turn around.

“Oh, we’re actually going to do as we’re told today,” Ophelia says with a sniff. “Doesn’t mean this won’t be any less fun for me.”

My fingers dig into the flesh of my buttocks as I spread my cheeks wide, gazing at the dull, stainless steel panel walls in front of me. This area is built for function. The wealthy packs who come to throw money at omegas here and sometimes other designations in illegal transactions never see the harsh reality of our lives.

They couldn’t care less.

A scream of fright escapes me as Ophelia sprays my asshole with a high powered hose. Her laughter rings out, unhinged and demonic as she also cleans my pussy, her fingers touching me to spread the lips wide.

God, I want to murder her. If the walls could bleed red with her blood, it would make me so fucking happy. Unfortunately, I live in the real world, and all I can do is shiver and scream as all of that freezing water hits my most sensitive parts like a thousand, frozen shards.

“Stop being dramatic,” she mutters. The bitch didn’t have to use cold water, it’s simply an extra perk. Thank god she’s wearing gloves, or the ghost of her touch might follow me forever.