Vile – Chapter 8 – Dominance
Introduction:
In times of struggle there are those of us who fold, content to accept the fate they’ve been given and wait in vain for eventuality to come. Then there are those who take control of their plight, but once they do there is no telling what path they will take.
The two of them laid against the dust of the heap, Bloodhound’s chest panting hard against the milky cushion of Madre’s breast as his seed pulsed from the freshly fucked hole. Tracing idle patterns along her mate’s side with her fingernails, the silver haired woman’s body still shivering from her lingering orgasm and the warm fluid within her, she spoke with a gentle and deeply satisfied tone; “…You, my dear… I am certainly going to keep.” “Keep…?” Bloodhound snickered at the word, thinking little of her intention behind it; Madre smirked, “All I mean is that there is no need for you and your little Bird to fly off any time soon.” The voluptuous woman gestured towards a cute brunette just a few feet down, her back firmly planted in the dust as her perky breasts were suckled upon by Furore’s eager lips. Bloodhound watched his partner, her flush body shivering at the raven haired girl’s touch, each of them exploring the other’s body with their hands in an intimate dance; any reason to leave grew ever more faded with time to the both of them. “…It’s been a while since they left… Longer since we saw those back where we started.” Madre chuckled faintly behind her mask, her fingertips ever so gently gracing the plating of Bloodhound’s jaw to direct his eyes to her, “Your Ox and Rhino are there, I am quite sure. All has been restored… Tell me, my dear… Have you any greater bond with those whom you have no name for than myself and those who reside her?” Her tender hands caressed his now relaxing muscles, finger tips twirling in the thick hair of his chest. The man pondered a moment, his own protest having mostly become formality at this point in the first place, now further pushed aside with words he found almost instinctually logical; he nodded, his buxom lover sighing in satisfaction at his compliance.
Bird gasped gently, her breath faltering with her body’s trembles at Furore’s tender massage against her reddened mound. The two young women teased and tempted one another with a new found sensuality, their former hostilities all but forgotten, the cause entirely lost in the brunette’s mind; all that mattered now was bliss, and the passion her new family shared with her. Clasping black hair firmly in hand, Bird tugged the slender figure of her lady lover into a heated kiss, the wild girl’s lips returning every ounce of desire in complete obedience to Bird’s dominance. Furore’s fingers parted the petite brunette’s swollen vulva, a single digit slipping along the pink lips of the interior before teasing the clitoris, her mouth sucking in her lover’s gasps without breaking the kiss. A pair of perky breasts pressed against their owner’s rib cage as a wild girl’s own applied pressure, the smooth surface of their flat stomachs fitting together with perfect unity. Soon two fingers dove deep into Bird’s womanhood as two others massaged the exterior mound, the brunette’s own hands exploring the tight curvature of Furore’s ass and giving it a swift smack. The smell of sex filled the air as Bird lost herself in the raven haired girl’s allure, her mind absorbed by the utter bliss she experienced now and had experienced since her arrival; a place once so imposing had now become a place she never wished to live. In all of her memories the brunette who had once been so timid had never experienced wonders like this, her body had never felt so good, and her desires had never been so fulfilled.
“S-so Big Guy, uh… this might sound kinda strange b-but… do you remember your name?” The frail man’s stammering voice irritated Ox on an almost subconscious level, “Ain’t nobody been able to that I’ve talked to.” The coward paused for a moment at the large man’s almost dismissive tone, but the silence had been getting to him, “So then… uh… if we’re gonna travel t-together shouldn’t we-…” “Name’s Ox.” This time the dismissal was unmistakable, his tone tone abrupt and almost forceful; some time passed beyond that moment, the two of them walking without a sound, and finally it became too much, “…W-what should we call m-…” Ox stopped, his glare over his shoulder apparent even though his eyes could not be seen, “How ’bout nothin’? You need to talk to someone you can whisper to yourself… don’t give a shit what name you use to do it.” The frail man gritted his teeth, the scorn now an all too familiar sensation from his past that he could not fully recall; “The hell’s your problem with me!? I kill your mom or som-…” The dark man turned, his broad frame towering over his follower so high it eclipsed him in shadow, “My problem with you? You’re the fuckin’ problem with me!” He began to take heavy steps closer, making the smaller man nervous and steadily backing him down; “First thing you did when we got here was start causin’ problems for people and you ain’t stopped once!” Ox was now looming downward, his masked face inches from his target’s as he puffed hot breath into the frail and now cowering man’s face. Shaking, his scrawny knees buckling and causing him to collapse to the grass, the berated man looked away from Ox in a display of fear and shame at his words; it was unclear if Ox noticed or cared about this, turning his back and beginning to walk away once more without a word further.
“…Not like I asked for this, O-Ox…” His voice shook with a deep tremble, his eyes only now glancing towards the man on his way to abandon him, “…You’ve never been scared, then?” At that, Ox’s movement halted, his mask turning back only slightly as a sign of vague acknowledgement rather than full attention; a heavy voice had lowered its intensity, now carrying a sense of pity, “Who here you think isn’t scared?” At these words the frail man perked up ever so slightly, rose to his feet, and began to make his way closer to Ox, “…W-what do you… Y-you mean you?” A gruff sigh escaped the towering man’s mask, his tone raising in intensity a single degree, “Everyone was scared, you ain’t the only one. You were the only one who had to make it worse for people.” Shame overtook him at the sudden realization of his former actions towards the group, his eyes staring at the ground as they began to walk, “…I’m n-not great at controlling myself w-when I get scared… Didn’t really mean to be a-…..” Ox’s dismissal rose to attention once again, only this time with a great deal less obvious contempt; “Forget it.”
Silence fell upon the pair as they made their way through the woods, and soon a familiar glow crept into view in the distance; “Finally!” The frail man was thrilled, his stammer exchanged for a short lived relief before Ox stopped his momentarily hastened pace, “Chill. Pretty sure this is it, ain’t completely though.” “W-what do you mean you’re not… Look at it! What else cou-…” Ox, now in an increased state of dominance, boomed over him; “I said chill. That pile we fell in ain’t the only one out there, just came from another one before I found you.” “W-… what!? Another one…? Were there… people?” Ox’s silence spawned a faint chill down the pale man’s spine, as though nothing that could follow could possibly be something he would want to hear. “Like us. Masks, big pile… but they ain’t really like us. Bad vibes.” The two of them continued onward, the smaller of the two staying almost awkwardly close to the larger at the fearful thoughts running through him that they were indeed not alone in this place after all. The illumination of the heap grew ever brighter at their advance, and almost as quickly as the familiar sight of those they had left behind came into view a far more dreaded sensation took control; there they stood, at the base of their own heap, both unable to look away.
Pools of blood soaked the grass at the base of the heap, their dark crimson engulfing three slaughtered bodies stained in their own carnage. Silence hung in the air, the repugnant scent of death burning the pair’s nostrils as they looked upon the remains of those they had left behind; panic immediately took the frail one, “W-we’re… really going to die out here…! I fucking knew it, man!” “Calm the fuck down!” Though his tone was fierce, Ox kept his voice quiet; the scrawny man did not, “…How!? How the fuck am I suppose t-to calm down? Do you see that over there!?” His hand shook uncontrollably as he pointed at the corpses of two elders, the man and woman from before sprawled across the grass, and just above them half consumed by the heap was the young girl who played upon it. “Yeah I see it… that’s why we gotta calm down! We don’t know who or what did this or where they are. You wanna just announce us!?” The frail man paused in a state of shock at Ox’s words, the possibility of the killer lurking nearby surging him with terror and casting him to silence, now horrified to make even the slightest sound. Ox moved towards the bodies, kneeling to examine each one carefully, his touch only brief and only when he felt necessary; he motioned for his partner to come over, but the coward refused, shaking his head in frantic reluctance. Nostrils flared, his muscles tensing with aggression to relieve it from his voice so that he could maintain a near whisper, “Get your ass over here!” Taking a deep breath with an audible gulp, his body shivering, the frail man cautiously made his way over, keeping a careful distance between him and Ox. “See this?” Ox gestured towards the old man’s body, then to the old woman; he specifically pointed out their wounds; the smaller man gasped, trying to maintain a whisper, “…T-they look like something chewed them up…! What could have-…..” He was immediately cut off, “Ain’t teeth marks, asshole… Stabs. A person did this.” As if on cue, the moment Ox finished speaking the dust much higher up the pile began to shift and slide, revealing the form of a man; he was covered in burn scars, and he carried a makeshift spear.
Blood spattered her face in a vile display as she struck the dying girl’s face again and again, the crimson soaked chain clattering the hard floor with each blow and filling the other girls averting their eyes with terror each time they heard it; her dark skin now bathed in red, the chamber girl rose to her feet over her victim, her eyes staring down with contempt. “…Should have done something about it…” Heavy chain links clanged as they fell to the floor of the dungeon in a heap, a sound which told the others their assault was at an end for now. The ebony haired girl turned to face the few cowering figures in the dark corner of the opposing wall, their eyes widening as they gained her attention, some of them letting out distinct gasps and shrieks. The dark girl scoffed, “You fear me…? You fear me but not them!?” She marched in the direction of one of the girls free of a chain, her target’s body shivering and beginning to shift in an attempt to flee, “Sit!” Dominance shook the chamber, the blood splattered woman glaring down at the pathetic sight before her; she spit directly into the girl’s face, causing her to yelp and avert her eyes, “You don’t even have the excuse of being chained up anymore… The hell is wrong with you!?” A forceful shove of the chamber girl’s foot kicked the slave back to the floor, her fists clenching in anger, disgusted the more she looked at the cowardice at her feet. “Want to end up like her…?” Her voice had taken a sinister tone as her eyes narrowed, fully aware there was no room to think she was not serious as she motioned back towards the lightly twitching newly dead behind her, to which her prey immediately shook her head frantically in deep sobs; “Then, sweetie… I believe it’ll be your turn to act next.” Without a word, her only sound a muffled whimper, the berated woman nodded in understanding.
Some time passed before the wall gave way, the all too familiar crumbling of dust that she had hated so greatly now a sound she longed for; the chamber girl smirked to herself as she remained in the darkness of her chosen corner, waiting patiently. The woman the dark girl had chosen remained in position kneeling over the ragged body, her hands covered in blood as she shook the dead slave’s corpse and cried in a convincing charade for the large man approaching. Seeing such a brutal sight the newly arrived ogre of a man immediately charged forward, throwing the woman to the side to look over the remains of the other; it almost appeared as though he was hurt by what he saw, holding the limp body in his hands as he gazed upon her in apparent longing. Placing the lifeless girl against the floor, the man rose to his feet and turned his attention to the only thing he could think to blame and began to advance. The blood covered woman averted her eyes to the ivory below, her expression vacant and expectant of what she had grown so accustomed to as her slaver closed in. A large hand gripped the girl’s hair, jerking on it to force her to look upon his mask, but at that very moment the victimized slave lashed outward with the nearby bloodied chain, striking the man heftily across the side of his head and causing him to stumble ever so slightly.
Like a thick obsidian shards from the edge of the brute’s mask clattered to the ground at his feet from where the chain had struck, and as he turned his attention back towards his attacker the vague outline of an absent face was revealed from beneath the broken cover. The hollowed pit of an eyeless socket, the blank hump of what could have been a nose, and the collapsed imprint of a sealed mouth gazed upon her and sent a chill down her spine, the girl quickly recoiling from the man she had assault as he began his approach once more. Taking firm grip of the woman’s weaponized chain the faceless man violently tore it from her grasp. She turned to flee, desperately attempting to crawl away in vain as the slave woman felt a mighty foot stomp down upon her leg with such savage force she could feel the bone snap, causing her to cry out and freeze in place. Deformity pressed down upon the woman as she winced in agony at her wounded leg, the man’s bulbous form overtaking her she could feel the sticky edges of chain links bind around her throat and begin to tighten. Gasping desperately for whatever air she could the slave continually resisted, but it was futile; using his free hand to position her and grip her hip, his other hand tugging on the chain as it choked his prey, he proceeded to press the tip of his massive cock to her exposed ass.
Practically unnoticed by the slaver, the ebony haired woman grinned as she watched her pawn struggling to free herself. This had been what she wanted to see, these pitiful creatures fighting and clawing for their lives, their very freedom even if it meant a gruesome fate. As the bulging girth of his penis forced its way inside the desperate victim’s ass, the dark skinned girl could steadily feel her lower body kindling an inner flame, and moisture made its way from her womanhood. Provided death had not taken them, their bodies would recover over night from even the most savage injuries in this accursed place in perfect form, and so with each violent thrust into the sobbing woman’s body it was as if it were her first experience; blood dripped from the sodomized girl’s tight entrance and thinly coated the advancing cock’s vile flesh. The chamber girl watched as her pawn was viciously fucked, her body used like a piece of meat, and for the first time she truly saw the enslaved woman fighting back. Throbbing girth continuously penetrated between raw cheeks, their tearing flesh constricted and strained to their very limit, blood the only poor excuse for a lubricant to be found; the dark skinned girl could not help but begin to quietly touch herself at such a sight. Sobs filled the chamber, endlessly echoing to the furthest reaches of the dungeon over the loud slapping of raped flesh upon a woman who had all but entirely given up. Making a final attempt to break free of her master’s grasp the violated girl lunged forth.
The thundering crack of bone ended the victim’s cries in an instant, her assailant’s brawny hand forcefully resting against the back of her head as the now shattered remains of her face laid open in a pool of its own gore. Biting her lip in an attempt to silence herself as she watched her pawn’s brutal death the dark girl’s back arched, her fingers rapidly slipping in and out of her pussy as its heat overflowed and she began to climax. The killer continued to thrust his wide lower body against the corpse of his victim, his pulsing meat driving its full length deep inside a dying ass as urine poured over his balls each time they smacked against the unused entrance beneath. Soon a thick torrent of yellow fluid emptied into the girl’s remains, gushing out as the brute withdrew his continuously dripping length. The chamber girl’s eyelids strained against their natural instinct to close from the intensity of her orgasm, trying to miss as few details as she could until the man had entirely finished with her pawn. Placing her sweetened fingers between her lips, the ebony haired girl lustfully sucked them clean of her nectar, and remained in silence as she watched the slaver take his leave.
It happened so fast they hardly noticed it, the lanky figure lunging from on high in their direction at the base of the heap. Thick sanguine flowed down Ox’s lower back from which a sharpened branch now jutted, its shaft still held firm by the strange man plunging it into his target’s side. Wincing, his vision immediately a blur, Ox could feel his adrenaline begin to take over, driving him to violently grasp his attacker and force him back. Ripping his spear from the wound the burned man whipped it across the grass to spray blood clean from its exterior before shifting position and immediately lunging forward once more; this time Ox caught it, and with one hand on the weapon and the other on the carrier’s slender arm he forced the murderer to the ground and shouted in a booming voice towards his partner, “Get the fuck out of here!” Trembling wildly, his eyes filled with terror as he watched the two men grapple one another only feet away, the cowardly man was completely frozen in place. Furiously Ox’s powerful arms did all they could to keep the unnaturally strong man subdued, but it was not to last; curling beneath the towering man in a bizarre contortion of his form, the man covered in burns pressed his plated feet against Ox’s chest and effortlessly launched him onto his back. Like an animal the attacker leapt upon his nearly defeated foe, the dark man beneath him grunting at the force. Ox could see that the frail man with him had yet to leave, and as his opponent raised his spear overhead, its jagged point focusing intently upon his chest, he released one final command; “You wanted a name…? Then earn it, Jackrabbit! Run, now!” Jackrabbit’s mind reeled at the sound of his new name, and it was that very acceptance that broke the hold his nerves had upon him and allowed him to turn and flee. The sounds of struggling gradually faded behind him as his long legs sprinted him through the darkness, and soon he was completely out of sight.
The sharp burn of splintering wood tore into Ox’s shoulder as he just barely managed to shift the spear’s thrust away from his heart, and doing his best to ignore the anguish which flowed through him he gripped the deceptively sturdy weapon in each hand. With all of his might Ox clenched the spear and twisted his body to the side, throwing the burned man against the ground and forcing the wood from his shoulder. Struggling to his feet, the bleeding titan charged upon his enemy, his every muscle on fire with intense adrenaline. He had truly given it his all, and though it had not been enough to put this rabid dog down for good it assuredly had allowed at least one of his companions to escape with his life; Ox accepted this as he felt the branch once against penetrate his body, and in a final act of pure rage he took hold of the spear once more with each hand and snapped it in two. With a hefty thud the mighty figure collapsed to the grass, gasping at the intensity of his wounds and glaring upon the newly disarmed killer who loomed just over his feet with an eerily hunched posture. A sinister voice, raspy and cold, escaped from beneath the mask of the burned man as he looked onward towards the darkness of the trees, “…Always liked when they run…” Tearing the pointed half of the broken spear from his adversary’s waning form, the lanky man bolted off in the direction he last saw Jackrabbit, and the world grew dark for Ox.