Chapter Twenty-One
Game Time
"Why do I have to wear this? I look like a cosplay reject," I complain to Marcus about my outfit. He just gives me a bland look and gestures to himself and the holey metallic shirt and black leather pants. Okay, maybe we all have complaints.
"Come on, Birdie. You're rocking the warrior princess vibe." I roll my eyes at Braeden, trying to stay upbeat, but I still see the worry in his eyes.
Apollo strides into the bedroom, dressed much the same as Marcus. "We're as prepared as we can be. Remember, don't react or draw more attention than necessary." He pauses before delivering his last bit of news. "Our inside contact has disappeared. I took the chance on orchestrating for the video feed to the exhibition rooms to be cut off shortly after it begins. Robert won't want to alert the buyers that anything is amiss by announcing it. And I've sent a message to your handler." He indicates Rex and Emmett. "You all need immediate extraction. I gave him all the information I could send and hope they get here before anyone finds out. It's only a matter of when, not if, it's exposed."
If I wasn't afraid of being out of it, I'd ask for the drugs right about now. I was fucking petrified about our near future. Obviously, there was more to what had happened with Apollo and Marcus than they'd divulged.
Group somber, we all file to the outer door. Out of the corner of my vision I catch Apollo giving Marcus' shoulder an affectionate squeeze and a wry grin. Marcus catches me watching, expression resigned.
"It was a pipe dream to hope we'd make it out. Now our focus is saving you five and as many other Innocents as possible. And inflicting as much damage as we can before we're taken out." Marcus pushes up under my chin to close my mouth, dropping a peck on my lips as he walks past, then squaring his shoulders to face what's coming.
Braeden catches my attention, minutely motioning to our two martyrs. In silent commiseration, we agree they're coming with us too. Won't they be surprised when they realize we won't let them sacrifice themselves?
Walking into the exhibition room, it takes all I've got not to flip out or run right the hell back out. The guys are swallowing hard and averting their eyes too. Marcus and Brent trail a step behind and to Apollo’s sides. They both hold leads to the leather cuffs binding my, Rex, Emmett, and Brade's hands in front of us. We make our way through the exhibits to our own area. The queening stool and pillories and such are one thing, but the piercing station, faux medical set-up, and a contraption resembling an iron maiden give me the shivers. Kitty corner to our spot is a black sheet covered object. I don't even want to know.
A nervous sweat gathers that not even an industrial strength antiperspirant is going to hinder. At least I'll have the excuse of exertion to cover it up soon. We arrive at our area and spread out to go over the positions of equipment and supplies and double check that there hasn't been any tampering. Brent managed to bring in an uncontaminated lubricant under the guise of me being extremely sensitive to the general dosed one that's used to keep the pets compliant. Technically, it's only supposed to be for me, and I'm to be drugged up by injection instead.
We spend a short time with last-minute instructions and are taking our places, along with the other occupants in the room, when Robert enters with an entourage.
A group of men and women head straight for our corner, making me tense up in worry. Several of the men are obviously guards, one in particular I'd prefer not to see again. As they get closer, one of the men is hooded and bound, being led by a guard.
Thankfully, for us, not so much the hooded man, they veer over to the covered contraption.
The big burly man is strapped to a saddle with a bit between his teeth and a halter on, the reins drawn up between his legs and crossed between his buttocks to hold them spread. His legs are bent and bound as well as his arms. His hood is pulled off and blinders put on with a screen in front of his face showing the framework behind him being directed at his ass. He’s panicked and moaning.
His posted on the board for his exhibit is of a guard caught trying out the merchandise and prolapsing a sold girl's anus before she was collected by her owner. The difference in price is being made up by auctioning him to the horse fetish buyers. Apparently their slaves don’t last long, and this is his tryout to see if he can take it. I do a double take when I realize it's the man who was assaulting Emily in the janitor’s closet. But she wasn't prolapsed when I helped clean her up. My face drains of blood as I realize she probably was abused further after Marcus and Apollo left her. I move away to find one of them and demand answers, but HE comes in, and we’re directed to watch. A case is opened, and Robert begins speaking.
“This was specifically made to size with a few embellishments. As you can see, it has a tube for the ejaculate. It’s compared to a high-pressure hose when it empties. It also has three ‘hooks’. Those are going to swell as the ejaculate is expelled before they’re pulled out. Lubrication will be the liquid. A stallion only ruts for about two minutes before it’s done, and there will be three rounds, so everyone has a chance to watch.”
The horse dildo is pulled out and attached to the apparatus that will be doing the penetrating. We all watch with wide eyes as it’s tested. It’s eighteen inches long and three inches in diameter according to Robert. A tube is inserted into the man several inches, and Robert twists something at the base of the dildo to release the hooks. A four-leaf clover looking thing swells out of the tip to twice the width it already was, and the other end of the tube is hooked to it. Two more smaller bulges pop out along the shaft, and a bag is attached to the tube on the back of it.
Another twist and the man squeals around the bit. The tube had been inserted into the man's ass, and within seconds, the bag that contained at least a pint was sprayed into him. The tube is withdrawn from the anus, and lube leaks out, dripping to the floor. The dildo is reset, and more lubrication is rubbed over it. It’s lined up with the man’s ass, and now he’s making unintelligible noises and trying to escape. Not that he can move an inch. I have a feeling this is going to do internal damage and think that’s probably the point.
An example is being made out of him. I don’t want to watch, but I’m afraid to look away with Robert observing. Robert addresses the small crowd once more. “The subject has been minimally stretched. The merchandise he damaged wasn’t even given lubrication, so he should feel lucky. If he survives the night, the highest bid takes him to the farm.” Robert finishes his speech, motioning for the guard doing the operating to begin.
The tip is lined up with the man’s puckered hole, and the machine flipped on. Slowly but steadily, the machine forces the huge rod into the man’s backside until the base is swallowed, and the metal arm follows it an inch or so into the gaping entrance. The man is staring at the screen in horror, now crying. His ass is going to be wrecked. The dildo is removed until the tip slips free, showing the tunnel-like hole left behind. A button is pushed, and a timer pops up. 120 seconds. Suddenly, the machine starts plunging hard and fast, ruthlessly impaling the man’s ass. He’s screaming around the bit, and the timer counts down. At ten seconds to go, it holds deep, and the man gets higher pitched. The hooks must have been released, and the bag begins emptying.
Lube is leaking around the metal rod, and then it starts to withdraw. The man is in a complete panic, and soon I can see why. The first ball passes and pulls on the abused hole. The second comes out larger, and now I can see flesh coming out along the shaft. With the third and final ball, several inches of bright pink insides builds up around a bulge trying to come out before the sphincter gives up, and it comes loose with a gush of fluid and a long prolapsed tube of the man’s ass.
The man passes out directly after, and I see some pink tint to the fluid coming out. Several of the patrons go up to fondle the extruding tissue and poke their fingers in it. Finally, the guard comes with a glove and slowly inserts it back into its cavity. You can tell it’s hanging a little loose, and I doubt it will ever go back to what it was.
***
Robert claps his hands sharply, signaling for the exhibition to begin. While everyone had been preoccupied, several more of Robert’s "guests" aka prospective buyers had come into the room. The set up is much the same as the night on the stage had been. Servers for refreshments and pets to pass around.
Our group is third in the line up with Robert doing his spiel about his son Apollo's special project. I’m not sure how much more I can stomach, muffled screams of pain and pleasure permeate the area. It's a hedonistic atmosphere that the sick fucks in charge are getting off on. Literally, in some cases.