The Merciless Alpha(erotica)

A woman in her forties came in the room. She had bleached blonde hair and looked like her better days were behind her. She looked at me, then pressed a button on a box and my collar beeped. I jumped to my feet. “Good, you’re learning. A beep is a warning, if I hold the button for another second you get the shock until I let the button go again. When anyone comes into the room, you will go to the kneel position I will teach you.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“In two weeks, you are going up for auction. My job is to prepare you so you fetch the highest price possible. You are young, which helps, but you’re underweight and ribs showing aren’t sexy. I’m going to teach you how to walk, how to fuck and how to be pleasing to a man.”

“May I ask a question, ma’am?”

“You may.”

“Why would I care how much I sell for?”

She moved until she was staring me in the eyes, our bodies touching as I was backed into the wall. “A girl who fetches a high price at auction has value; she will still be used, but no one intentionally damages something valuable. A girl who doesn’t listen to me, who doesn’t do her best to become valuable, is just a pussy support system. You might end up with someone who beats you daily, or end up in some dive with homeless guys fucking your ass for five bucks a shot. The girls who sell for big money survive, the cheap sales are used up and disposed of.” I gulped, not meeting her eyes. “Either way you’re getting fucked, so at least be good at it.”

Over the next two weeks, I learned how to satisfy men with my body, how to walk, stand and kneel. I put weight back on quickly, and by the time the sale arrived Crystal was happy with my progress. Bidders visited my room during the day, sampling the wares and deciding on how much I was worth. Cameras watched me, there was no chance to get a message out and no one who would help me. These men were the customers of a criminal empire, and I was the product.

I sold for eight thousand dollars. I didn’t see the bidder. I was taken backstage, stuffed into a dog kennel for transport and loaded into a van. When I was let out, my new life as a sex slave began.

Tania’s POV

Lacrosse Pack House

I woke in the middle of the night, restless and hot. I moved Teri’s hand from around my waist; I was too nervous to sleep in the guest room, so I had crawled into bed with them. She didn’t wake up as I silently moved to the door and opened it.

I was startled a little when the big wolf looked up at me from his place in front of the door. He turned his head to the side, looking at me. I moved my hand down, letting him sniff it. He licked it before I scratched his ears. “You’re a big boy,” I said. “Can you show me where the kitchen is?”

He nodded and got to his feet, his nails clicking against the wood floor as he walked. I kept my fingers in the black fur of his saddle, the rest of him was silver and white. He was a handsome wolf, and I was trying to figure out who he was. He was nearly as tall as me, four feet tall at the shoulder, and looked to be over two hundred pounds. I held onto his fur as we went downstairs, then he led me to the back of the big house and into the kitchen.

I turned on the light and went straight for the freezer. Opening it up, I found a selection of ice creams and grabbed my favorite, mint chocolate chip. It was not a full quart, so I didn’t grab a bowl. Looking in the fridge, I found some chocolate sauce. I poured it on top of the ice cream, leaving the lid in the garbage. “Come on, big guy,” I said as I put the sauce back. I saw some cheese curds in a bag, and grabbed those too. It had been YEARS since my teeth had squeaked while eating genuine Ellsworth cheese curds.

I walked back into the front of the house, finding a spot on the L-shaped couch in the rec room. He jumped up on the couch next to me, and I put the food in my lap. I’d toss him a cheese curd, then I’d eat some ice cream. When the ice cream was gone, I started sharing the cheese with him until that was done too. He looked disappointed when the food was gone.

I didn’t know why, but I felt safe with him, safer than I had felt up in the bed with the Alphas. I yawned, then laid on my side in the big corner pad of the sectional. When I was settled, he crawled up until he was lying in front of me. I put my arm over him, burying my face in the fur on his neck, and went to sleep.

*****

Talia’s POV

Three Years Ago

“You sure you want to do this, T?”Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

The instructor put the headgear on me over my blonde hair and buckled it under my chin. “I need the challenge, Matt.” I put my mouth guard in, and he checked my gloves and equipment one last time. “None of the women here can take me.”

He moved back, letting me stand up in the corner of the Octagon at the New Orleans MMA Academy. It was the Friday Night Fights, and we were the main event. The crowd had swollen to several hundred. “I don’t want you getting hurt, the Turk has a hundred pounds on you and five pro fights.”

“He also runs his mouth about how women shouldn’t be in the ring unless they are in a bikini holding up a round card. He needs to get his mind right.” The Turk walked around like he was the shit, and it was time to teach him a lesson in humility. His friends were just as bad, so it wasn’t hard to goad him into a three-round match with a significant side bets. I’d given a thousand dollars to my girls to put into play, giving them a third of the action if I won. My odds of winning had gotten to twenty-five to one with the help of the other girls in training. “Just referee the fight, I’ll be fine.”

He turned and went over to the Turk before we met in the middle. “Three-minute rounds, I want a clean fight, break if I tell you. Fight goes three rounds unless there is a submission or knockout. Shake hands and wait for the bell.” The crowd had gathered, and betting was fast and furious. I could hear the people talking, there was a lot of betting on first-round knockouts, and I heard my girl put a hundred bucks on me for that at twenty-to-one odds. This was going to be fun.

The bell rang, and he moved towards me as I danced around, my gloved fists near my face as I kept my elbows over my ribs. I danced around him, moving out of the way of his jabs and sidestepping his rushes. It didn’t take long to figure out his strategy; he wanted to get me against the ropes or on the mat where he could use his size and strength against me. He made glancing contact with my head a few times; his style was heavy on boxing, while I was more rounded in my style.

I waited for my spot, and it quickly came when he overextended his jab. I ducked and spun, slamming my left foot into the side of his stomach. It stunned him, and I could see him get mad. I kept up the attack, using my longer legs to counter his reach advantage. “ONE MINUTE,” I heard someone say.

He tried a roundhouse kick, but it was to me like slow motion. Instead of dodging the leg, I bent my knees and brought my hands up to grab his calf. I pushed up hard, lifting it until he was bent backwards and fell heavily to the mat on his back. I moved forward, stomping on his stomach then dancing away before he could react.

“That all you got,” I taunted. He got to his feet and bull-rushed me. I ducked under his arm, grabbing on to it I swung my body up until my legs wrapped around his neck. I let go, my upper body swinging behind him and pulling him to the mat again.

I hooked my right leg around his neck, the knee in front and my ankle behind my left knee. Leaning back, I squeezed my leg as his hands tried to get me off. My legs had him in a chokehold, and I was cutting off his oxygen as well as the blood flow to his brain. He lashed out with his glove towards my chest, but I easily caught his glove and held on. He struggled in vain, and I could see his strength fading as his friends begged him to break the hold.

He tapped out.

The bell rang as I let go of his arm and extended my legs, letting him breathe again. The crowd was going nuts as I stood up and went to the corner; the girls were screaming and happy, while the men who bet against me were still in shock. The medic was still checking Turk out as Betty ‘The Blonde Bombshell’ White took my headgear off. “That was AMAZING,” she said. “We cleaned up on the betting tonight.”

“Collect it and meet me in the locker room, we’re going to have some fun tonight,” I said. I showered and changed into jean shorts, ankle boots and a sleeveless black top, which showed off the muscles and low bodyfat of the body I’d developed in the past year of hard training.

The training program Jarrod put me on was grueling; in addition to hours of running, yoga and weight training, I was learning multiple fighting disciplines from the human masters. They sent me first to Gunsite in Arizona, where I spent two months learning how to use a rifle and pistol until I could hold my own with the best of the military and police shooters. When I returned, I was enrolled in all the human fighting training I could fit into a week. I spent eight hours a day in dojos or gyms, then I’d go back to the Coven and practice against vampires. In subsequent months, I had learned boxing, Brazilian JuJitsu, Krav Maga, Karate and now Mixed Martial Arts. All this was in addition to keeping my shooting skills up. Training to be a killer was my full-time job.

I had become one dangerous bitch, at least to humans. My strength and speed had to be tempered when training against them, but I learned the skills quickly. Vampires were far more difficult to beat, although Eduardo was ‘young’ enough that it was a close fight. The others had centuries of experience and seemed to relish in leaving me bloody on the mat in the basement. I hadn’t faced other werewolves yet.

Betty handed me a thick wad of cash, my original thousand plus my share of the winnings. “Not a bad night for you,” she said. “When are you going pro? You’re wasted here.”

“I can’t,” I said. “My parents would never allow it if they found out. They’ve already picked out a man for me to marry and have kids with.”

“Holy shit,” she said. “Really?”

“Yeah. They sent me to a finishing school to become a proper young lady. I decided I liked street fighting more than dinner parties, and I can make enough to live without their allowance,” I said. “The private investigator they hired is getting closer, so I’m moving on to Miami. I’ve got some fights set up there already.”

“You have time to party before you leave?” I just raised my eyebrow, of course I did. How could you be in New Orleans and not have a fake ID good enough to get into the bars? “Good, we’re heading to the French Quarter to get drunk and maybe find a hot guy to fuck us good and proper tonight.” She gave me the name of a bar and I told her I’d be there, but I wasn’t planning to show. It was time to cut my friends out of my life.

Putting my gear in a backpack along with the cash, I walked out of the strip-mall gym complex down the street towards my motorcycle. I stopped when I was still thirty yards away, something was wrong. I smelled four humans, the unmistakable mix of sweat, aggression and lust on them. Sure enough, they stepped out from the shadows and moved to surround me. “You think you’re tough or something, don’t you bitch,” Turk said as he moved close to me. “I want my money back.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” I said as I kept track of the other three. They were blocking any escape, and no one was around to stop what they wanted to do. “Go home, this won’t end well for you.”

“I’m going to enjoy fucking that smart mouth of yours while Bob takes your ass. Grab her and pull her into the alley, boys, it’s time this bitch learned the only thing a woman is good for.”

Marcy had taught me knife fighting and throwing. She told me I should always have two knives on me, and tonight I was carrying four.