And then Jacques has kissed her. He had kissed her in such a way she was distracted from all else. It was more than his lips or the starved sounds he’d made. It was his endless touch.
Fingertips smoothed over skin as it was revealed, toying with the feel of it, drawing out tingles that ran from toes to scalp. He sang praises into her flesh, wrote his name upon her. Brenya breathless, her top down and skirt caught about her hips, stood stalk-still while he turned her body against her.
There was no rush in his scheme. Unlike the hours of her half-formed estrous, the Alpha’s actions were not directed to alleviate her pain or draw her into immediate pleasure.
They were exploratory. They were gentle—his attempt to perform the perfect distraction to achieve an unseen goal.
In the days Brenya had known the Alpha’s hospitality, feeling his hands and mouth on her body had become customary. But there was something different that day.
She was trapped in her mind while her flesh did as it pleased. Only a spectator.
Bit by bit, her body conformed to the Alpha’s unspoken will. Her lips would sigh while her brain would scream.
He’d take a nipple to be suckled, her spine would arch… the small Beta voice inside her powerless to make her listen.
Someone else inhabited her body when Jacques played his games.
She was possessed.
And that was why she’d cried over breakfast. That was why she’d flown into violence when he thought to take her away from herself again.
Because he had a new weapon. A thing he’d slipped inside her and called her prize.
What did he call it? The name had sounded scientific, important, nothing like what it should have been called. He’d called it a pliarator. She knew better. It was a mind obliterator.
It slipped in easily enough the day before, so smoothly she wasn’t sure what had replaced his fingers, and then it had latched on. Discomfort grew in the form of a muscular ache, distracting, embarrassing, and enticing, Jacques manipulating how the thing sat in her pelvis while she tried to sit up and see what he’d done.
There had been no warning before the buzzing clicked and a soft nodule landed on her clitoris. The vibration had set her to yelp, urged her to press her legs closed against it, and encouraged a pool of slick to gather under her body.
He’d allowed her rebellion because it had made no difference. Even with her legs together, even rolled over on her belly as if she might squirm away, it could not be unseated. Deep inside her body it changed shape again. It stretched her, Brenya keening in pain.
Except, she wasn’t sure if it had been pain at all.
A warm hand on her back, the other still fixed to the device inside the squirming Omega, Jacques smiled. “When an Alpha male chooses to mount an untried Beta female there is a certain protocol that must take place before he can possess her. Had you been optioned for the breeding banks, you would have undergone this practice years ago—just as Annette delighted in these moments with Ancil. Sharing this with you was her idea, and seeing you this way, I can see it was an excellent one. Relax and enjoy.”
Mouth agape, sucking in deep pants of air, Brenya stared forward at the distant wall and saw nothing. She could do nothing. Was reduced to nothing.
All by a single pulsating machine.
A machine designed for one purpose: to prepare a Beta female's sex organs to accept the far larger, far more powerful Alpha cock.
The way it squirmed and milked the slick from her tunnel curled her toes. The horrid thing had a life of its own, though she might claw the sheets and fight against its intrusion.
Jacques may have pumped it in and out of her, he may have forced it deeper into her cunt when she tried to push it out, but the robot sensed her struggles and redoubled its attack.
The first orgasm had hurt; the machine had torn the pleasure right out of each nerve.
Immediately it altered its shape, sprang into action when her passage clenched as if to grasp an Alpha knot. Shape bloating, manipulating nerves with shocks, with rotary aggression, it had expanded near the base… and made her groan until drool hung from her lips.
An ocean of slick poured like a river, Jacques no longer pinning her down, but petting and watching where her ass had raised up from the bed and her stuffed cunt was on display as if begging for more.
He adjusted the settings. She convulsed, insides wrenching around the mechanical intrusion as it started its expansion process over again.
Rolling her to her back, he drew her knees to her ears, put his weight on her, and moved his body as if it was his member inside her doing the damage and not some cold machine.