They came closer to the cage, forming a tight circle around it.
He backed away, pressing his back against the far wall, hitting it painfully with his back.
His heart was beating so hard that each beat reverberated in his temples, fingers, throat, and even eyes.
He felt like a cornered animal.
But this only amused the alphas, who were thirsty for a new omega.
A young man with snake scales instead of skin, dimly shimmering in the torchlight, pressed his face to the bars and, exhaling air through his teeth, said:
"You are so pathetic... Too thin to play for long."
"He broke too quickly. It will be boring," the fish-man clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.
Another, tall, with hands like dry vines, chuckled:
"The body is still warm, isn't that enough?"
They laughed.
They laughed the way one laughs at a broken toy, made to break and be thrown away.
Their fingers reached for the bars, scraping iron, scratching stone, drawing out sounds that made the blood run cold.
And then the cage opened. It opened so easily, as if it hadn't been locked at all, and the omega was sitting in it of his own free will.
The lock clicked, and one of them stepped inside, pulling the others in with him.
The omega didn't even have time to back away.
They surrounded him.
Slender fingers wrapped around his wrists, his long golden hair, his ankles.
They touched his face, his neck, his chest - slippery, cold touches that made him want to break free, made him want to howl.
"Look at him," someone growled. "How he's shaking. The Master has honored us with a wonderful gift. Don't worry, we'll caress you with all our tenderness."
His shirt was torn off his shoulder with a quick, deft movement.
The fabric jingled with torn threads, revealing bruises, dirt, thin ribs and pink nipples.
One of them ran a finger along his collarbone, leaving a trail of dirty moisture behind him, and giggled.
"Let's see how he sings when we touch deeper," suggested one of the youngest, with eyes as black as coals in ashes.
His fingers, thin as threads, slid over Omega's bare chest, leaving a sticky, disgusting trail behind them.
Omega tried to wriggle away, tried to crawl away, but his strength left him. One man deftly turned him over onto his stomach and pressed his head to the floor. Another man lifted his hips and fixed them in his hands.
The sound of unbuttoning pants was heard. Omega began to kick and bite the hand that was trying to close his mouth.
"Don't worry, you'll feel good soon," laughter followed from all sides.
He clenched his teeth so hard that pain pounded in his temples, he squeezed his eyes shut, but he felt every movement of the fingers inside him, every look, every caustic whisper.
Two men stretched him from the inside with their fingers, when the other had already brought his organ to Omega's mouth.
"Just try to bite," He lightly hit the omega on the cheek and thereby opened his mouth. The warm barrel burst into his mouth, causing a fit of vomiting, which could not be held in his mouth.
"Ugh, disgusting!" Everyone screamed.
The man whose barrel was in the vomit almost threw up himself, but only hit the omega on the other cheek and shoved it back.
"But it became slippery," He said without a shadow of shame.
He pushed two more times and stuck it out and finished on the omega's face.
And then one of them grabbed him by the hair, jerked him back sharply, forcing him to raise his head.
The creature's face was so close that the Omega felt hot breath on his lips.
"Do you think you can hide in the dirt? " He hissed. "We know who you really are."
His hand slid down, roughly, shamelessly.
The omega shuddered, tried to break free, but everyone around only laughed louder when the third finger entered the omega's hole.
And at that moment, when everything seemed to have already fallen into the abyss, when his mind was screaming, when his body was ready to give in, the sound of previously heard footsteps was heard in the dungeon.
From the darkness, from behind the doorway, a tall silhouette slowly emerged. This shadow was not funny at all, the steps were powerful, but at the same time sliding. And in each of his steps there was so much power that the dungeon itself seemed to bow before him. This was clearly another alpha.
The alphas who surrounded the omega quickly rose and began to sniff.
Their eyes suddenly widened and a whisper passed.
"Why is he here?"
"It was definitely said that he left, wasn't it?"
"Do you think he's coming here?"
While they were quietly raging, the alpha approached the cage, stopped at the threshold, not stepping inside, not lowering himself to touch.
The omega, still feeling pain and self-pity, raised his eyes stuck together from the liquid. Rubbing his eyes with his left hand, he saw the master of his "peace" violators. And thus his master.
The man's gray eyes looked at the omega with all their disdain.
His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were tightly pressed together.
"How it stinks in here." He muttered.
Then, he glanced at the other alphas, as if he had not noticed their presence before.
"Ah, it's from you."
The omega was afraid to turn his eyes and look at his tormentors, but he clearly felt how they were shaking with fear.
And then, with a light clicking of the tongue, in which boredom and fatigue were mixed, not hearing an answer, the alpha threw out a phrase, as if he was saying not to a person, but to a thing:
"Clean it. I will need it tomorrow."
Casting another contemptuous glance at the omega, he snorted in disgust and turned around, starting to leave.
The men standing nearby seemed to relax. But from the complete silence, the last words were heard.
"I changed my mind, everyone out."