A Feather's Worth (Spawn of Darkness Book 2) Read online

  It’s torn me up on the inside while I’ve done everything in my power to fight it. Stretched me farther than I ever thought possible. Pushed my boundaries … my limits.

  Tormented me.

  Sweat is collecting on my brow as I fight against my body’s impulses. But I’m fighting a losing battle. I know the fucker is going to win.

  I need to pee.

  It’s the first time since I got slashed open, probably because I’ve lost so much blood. If I don’t let it loose soon, I think I’ll actually die. But making it all the way over to that chamber pot in the corner there might just kill me anyway.

  Fuck you, bladder. Why can’t you be comatose like my wayward fucking vagina.

  This is going to be humiliating with an audience of two leering Ballsacks. Me, butt naked, back in tatters as I squat in the corner and moan like a menstruating drako from the pain.

  Great. Just fucking great.

  “It’s looking pretty bleak to me,” B-One drawls.

  “No shit.” B-Two scuffs at the stone floor with his boot, flicking a lock of icy blonde hair from his eyes. “Fucking breeders’ fault, if you ask me. Not doing their job right.”

  B-One nods, running his tongue over his lips, widening his stance and peering at my arsehole for the millionth time today. “Agreed.”

  They’ve been bleating about the lack of women for the past few hours. Apparently it’s a real vagina drought—there just isn’t enough to go around. Probably because they keep tearing out our uteruses or cutting off our heads.

  But no. Of course, they would blame the breeders.

  I wiggle my hips to stem the urge to pee. Even in her non-functioning state, my vagina’s proving to be a bitch. All I’m asking from her is that she keeps those golden gates closed until my fucking back heals. She’s such a pain in my whore-arse.

  “At least there’s plenty of tail here to keep us entertained.” B-One cocks his head to the side to gain a better viewing angle of my wiggly hips. “I think she needs to pee.”

  Yeah, no shit, testicle chin.

  My vagina almost lets the flood gates come crashing down, for no other reason besides the fact that she’s hell bent on dragging me to the grave with her. Screw this.

  I pull my knee under my body, hissing like a feline mid-mate, and tug my other leg under too. A warm spill of blood rolls off my back as I stretch my scabs out over the sharp bones, repressing the urge to scream.

  “This should be interesting …”

  Wanker.

  Trembling, I manoeuvre myself off the bed, all my bits out on display as I hobble stoically towards my rusty old chamber pot in the corner, dribbles of blood trailing my path … drip, drip, drip.

  “Did you hear another one died?”

  My ears perk right up, though I hide my intrigue like a good little hoe.

  “No … infection?”

  “Think so. She was a sweet little piece of arse, too. Unfortunate.” B-Two gestures towards me, half squatting over my chamber pot while trying to keep my back as straight as possible. Don’t want to piss all over the ground and give these cocksuckers something else to squirt over.

  “It’s a shame they don’t all heal as well as this bitch.”

  Something I’m not doing very well at right now, because my vagina just dropped the golden gates and at the same time, my body heaved forward in automatic, cataclysmic relief, opening my wounds and sending blood dribbling down my legs.

  “He can’t afford to lose many more from this batch. How many did we bring back? Seventy-three?”

  I almost tip over at that. As it is, I lose my footing and end up with one-foot ankle deep in my goddamn chamber pot. I groan inwardly—partially from the pain, partially from the piss I’m semi-marinating in … but mainly from the news that Kroe’s been out recruiting more vaginas to fill his whore castle.

  I pull my foot out and tentatively shake the pee off. It makes me think of Drake and Kal, landing me in piss to keep the men on the streets at bay. My heart drops into my stomach.

  I need to keep it together, let them go. They can’t get me here anyway, because the wards would kill my Sun Gods if anybody noticed them defying the King’s idea of a ‘perfect society’.

  “Seventy-four. There’s only twenty-two left from that hoard, though. Mainly because that group of them drowned themselves in straight grog. Stupid bitches. Why anyone would want to die choking on their own vomit voluntarily, beats me.”

  My lips are trembling … so is my chin. My left eye is twitching and I’m struggling to contain my composure as I slowly, painfully hobble back to my pathetic excuse for a bed. But most importantly? My beast is peering out at these two Ballsacks, watching them with guarded curiosity from her place curled tightly inside me.

  She’s been so fragile, so tentative … refusing to entertain my advances to lure her out of her state of misery. But now her tail is flicking back and forth, and she just licked her fucking chops … I think these fucktards have finally piqued her interest.

  Good … because I can’t do this on my own, and I wasn’t too keen on dragging the bitch out by the scruff of her neck when she’s looking so bedraggled.

  “Sometimes I think it’s good when they take themselves out,” B-Two drawls. “There’s no point in them once they forget their place in this world. Wasted space, only good for a wrestle.”

  B-One shrugs. “Personally, I prefer the ones that put up a bit of a fight. Makes it more exciting.”

  Letting out a shuddering breath, I give my beast a little stroke—purely to encourage the way she’s leering at the two testicles over there as I gently lower myself onto the mattress.

  She’s here.

  She’s with me.

  We’ve got this.

  Twelve days later

  “I’ve had to stand here staring at that round arse for the past two weeks, it’s not fair. She looks ripe for fucking to me. What’s the use of her if you can’t screw the hoe?” B-One drawls, voice thick and rusty. It makes him sound a lot sexier than he is.

  “Kroe’s just trying to tighten her cunt. He did go to a lot of trouble to get the slag back.”

  Slag? Really, B-Two? That’s the best you could come up with? I thought better of you, I really did.

  No, wait. That’s a lie.

  My expectations weren’t particularly high to start with, and he certainly hasn’t done anything since to remedy that factor. Neither has. Unfortunately for them.

  “If I had a bitch with an arse like that, I’d want to keep her on a short leash too, so I could nestle myself balls deep into her tight little arsehole whenever I felt like it.”

  I want to gag but I’m pretending to be asleep. Besides, this is progress—we’re actually getting somewhere. Finally.

  “Nah, I want to put my cock between those lips of hers, fuck her wayward mouth so hard she’s choking on me, then fill her guts with so much cum the bitch thinks she’s pregnant.”

  The other one chuckles, and then they’re both cackling away. Their way of wanking each other off.

  I hear this conversation a lot. It’s really fucking repetitive, just like the sound of water dripping in the corner of my room.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  My back’s almost entirely healed. I know because it’s itching like a motherfucker—probably mottled with hundreds of new scars. I don’t mind, they tell my story and hide a multitude of sins.

  I breathe in the scent of my old, stagnant, bloody mattress. It’s really seen some shit. If it could talk, hell, it would have some tales …

  But it can’t, and it doesn’t. It just has dust … lots and lots of fucking dust.

  The sneezing continued to tear open my wounds, prolonging my healing process. It gave me plenty of time to soothe the beast inside me. To gain her trust. It also gave these two Ballsacks plenty of opportunities to dig their own graves.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip …

  Moist fucking hole in the ro
of, I wish it would stop leaking its juices everywhere. It never used to do this.

  Actually …

  Sweet baby courtesan.

  The leaky pipe in the bathing chamber on the ground floor … fuck me, this room must be directly below it!

  I roll my eyes to the side and stare upwards, at the square of stone a slightly different shade to the rest of the ceiling. Water pools around the edges, gathering in the corners. Fat droplets fall to the floor.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  I picture the communal bathing chamber above, the layout of the room. There, at the base of the scum lined central pool and directly above my room, lies a large mat, tattered, filthy, edges frayed and torn … it’s covering a fucking trapdoor!

  A second direct route to my room … perhaps precaution in the event the main access off his personal quarters on the second floor was blocked.

  A way out … or another way in.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Closing my eyes, I start to formulate a plan, but it’s intricate. Not to mention it’s going to take some time and cooperation from at least one of the other girls. Though they’d no longer see me as a survivor … as one of them.

  Not after seeing this room.

  I suck in a laboured breath. Focus on my plan. This is not about me, this is about the girls I’ve let down.

  I’m going to need an iron fucking labia, because it’s going to take some guts with a side of impulsive bitch to carry out what I have in mind.

  I snap my eyes open, body on high alert as B-One slips a hand between my crack and strokes my arsehole with his thumb. How do I know it’s his thumb? He’s groping at my vagina at the same time, and he’s not being gentle about it.

  Burying my head in the mattress, I grip a handful of the torn material. I can see where this is going. Surely it’s just as uncomfortable for them when they go in dry?

  “You like that, bitch?” he seethes, kneading my curls, tugging hard against my scalp and pulling my face from the mattress.

  No, I don’t like that, because my vagina’s either dead in her ditch somewhere or she’s up and abandoned me, so I’m not even going to get any kind of sick pleasure from this little stunt.

  B-Two makes his way into my line of sight, pants around his knees while he pumps his chode to the vision of B-One fondling my arsehole. But then his hand retreats for all of two point three seconds as he spreads my cheeks wide, before he sheathes himself balls deep.

  I scream, I can’t help it, because it hurts as much as you would expect.

  He thrusts into me, parting my arse cheeks further, giving him full access to my pucker. My hips are rising off the bed with the motion, my neck cranked at an odd angle.

  B-Two’s getting agitated, he’s broken a sweat and spittle’s flying from between his gritted teeth. His hand just isn’t doing the job, because it’s my mouth he’s after. My mouth he’s verbally fantasized about.

  The beast inside me cracks a lazy eye open, licks her fucking chops and purrs. I get the feeling she likes playing with her food. Guess we’re going to find out because I’m about to set the bitch loose.

  I swallow the bile rising in my throat as he tugs at me roughly, pulling me to my hands and knees.

  “Take my cock, slag.” He thrusts his firm, weepy cock at my mouth.

  A strangled sound escapes me as he pries my teeth open with fumbling fingers and plunges it in, hard and deep.

  My beast positions herself on her haunches, tail flicking from side to side, readying herself to pounce. She’s even drooling. Crude creature.

  I hold her down as he thrusts, gaining his rhythm to the beat of B-One plunging away behind me. I have to time this perfectly for full impact, let her loose at the ideal moment. Don’t want a half-cocked job …

  His penis becomes firmer, the veins pulsing against the sensitive flesh inside my mouth. I roll my tongue to send him over the edge, and he tumbles, moaning as he begins to empty his load deep down my fucking throat.

  I unleash my beast.

  She pounces, my jaw clamping down as she sinks my canines into the fleshy meat of his pulsing cock, blood oozing from my mouth. He bellows, the air becoming potent with his fear.

  My arse is suddenly empty, the door to my cell swinging open as B-One dashes from the room.

  This cock is really fucking chewy—even my beast is having trouble getting through that thing, but she’s determined to do me proud. Meanwhile, B-Two is clawing at us with his hands, shrieking and pleading and generally being a fucking nuisance ... but my beast’s not letting go. Having finally made it through the flesh, sinew and cum tract—we rise, leaning back and sitting delicately on our legs folded beneath us as we watch B-Two writhe on the floor, holding his bloodied stump of a knob and gushing blood all over the floor of my room.

  My beast spits the severed cock onto the ground in front of him, wearing a smile dripping with blood that I’m sure looks fucking savage.

  She winks at him. “You told me to take your cock.”

  He screams louder, before passing out on the ground, just as I rein my beast the hell in.

  Fuck.

  Smile gone, I’m panting, trembling all over. I bring my ruby stained hands to my face and study them, smothered in the blood of this man I likely just killed—by chewing off his penis.

  Holy fucking hell.

  On the upside, now I don’t feel so bad about having my uterus sliced from my body.

  On the downside, I just bit a man’s cock off. Well, part of me did. How prevalent that part of me is, I have no idea … I just know it felt fucking amazing at the time.

  But now … now I hate myself.

  Gagging, I cover my mouth with my hand, swallowing hard. But saliva continues to fill my mouth, tongue tingling until I can’t contain the urge any longer. I vomit bile all over the Ballsack passed out on the ground with half a bleeding cock.

  Kroe runs into the room, panting, followed by a ghostly white B-One. They survey the carnage around me.

  I finish heaving my meagre guts up and Kroe clears his throat, straightens the lines of his immaculate suit and slicks his shiny hair back with the palm of his hand. “Did you tell anybody else about this on your way to collect me?”

  The one remaining Ballsack shakes his head like his life fucking depends on it. “No, sir. I came straight to you. I thought you’d want to deal with the bitch yourself.”

  Kroe nods, rubbing his finger and thumb along the base of his jaw. “Right. Good.” He turns, pushing the door shut and locking it from the inside before reaching inside his jacket.

  I know what’s coming, so does my beast. She’s perched high, straining against the bonds I have over her, fighting for a front row seat. I wouldn’t be surprised if she puts her little feral paw up and asks for fucking popcorn.

  Kroe spins so swiftly I barely catch a glimpse of the blade as it swipes through the throat of Ballsack One, sending blood cascading down his front. He grabs at the shredded flesh over his jugular, gasping for breath.

  What a shit way to die.

  Kroe turns his back on me, plunging the blade into the chest of the other Ballsack, who’s likely already dead from blood loss.

  Strangely, my full body shakes have ceased and a smile is curling my lips. I realise my beast is salivating at the thought of rolling around in the puddle of blood on the ground that’s almost large enough to bathe in.

  So unladylike.

  I rein the barbaric bitch in and the trembling renews its vigour.

  Kroe prowls towards me, that fine suit that was so perfect a moment ago now spattered in blood. He’s panting his bloodlust away with each breath, a gleam in his eyes …

  One I recognise.

  One I was banking on.

  Stopping, he peers down his nose at me.

  He backhands me across my cheek, so hard that I fight to hold consciousness.

  Fucking ouch.

  He seethes through his elongated
canines. “You stupid, stupid girl.”

  My beast has abandoned me; pussy. Though Kroe doesn’t realise it, I think he has her on a leash.

  Perhaps he does realise it.

  “What do you say?” he asks, tipping my chin back with his index finger. I’m meeting him eye to eye—all six and a half feet of him.

  “Sorry,” I croak, knowing it will be enough.

  He nods. “Good girl. Keep those teeth to yourself or else I’ll pull them out of your fucking jaw before taking a girl’s head for every tooth taken. Do you understand?”

  I swallow back the residue of bile coating my mouth, hard to do when your neck’s so strained. “I understand.”

  “Good,” he repeats, undoing his zipper and tugging his erect self free of his trousers. “Now, open up that pretty mouth of yours.”

  I do.

  I know this man intimately … too intimately. I knew he’d want to pump his own power lust by dipping himself into the jaws of death … claiming me. Right now, I could sink my teeth in, chew his cock right off and spit it on the ground next to that lonely one over there—looking like a giant, bloody slug.

  But he knows I won’t.

  I’ll find another way to do it … something not so drawn out and brutal. Something not so … personal.

  Not only that, my beast is cowering somewhere in the shadows over there, as Kroe thrusts his familiar length down my throat like he’s plunging a bogged toilet. She wants nothing to do with this. Nothing to do with my plan. I don’t blame her. I just hope she’ll grow a pair when I need her to.

  Then it hits me …

  I played those two men like a couple of penis fiddles.

  I knew this would happen, with every fibre of my being.

  Knew it from the moment I woke on this crusty old bed, broken and bloody under the watchful eyes of two leering Ballsacks, knowing I would do anything to make this right. From the moment I formulated my plan, widening my legs slightly and allowing them a better view of my arsehole, tilting my hips to enhance that view from their standing point. Parting my lips, moist from a slow lick of my tongue, whenever they showered me with their jizz.

  I made them want me … I made damn fucking sure of it.