The torture had become a relentless cycle in the Extinction's crystal prison, each day blending into the next in this timeless void. My cell was a floating cube of black translucence, chains of glowing violet energy binding my wrists and ankles, sapping my strength just enough to keep me immobilized but aware. Elena's cell hovered ten meters away—close enough to see every detail of her torment, but far enough that I couldn't reach her, couldn't touch her, couldn't whisper words of comfort. The Extinction—those cold, conquering beings with our powers—had used their abilities to subjugate worlds, and now they were angry that we used the same power to save them. "Join us or break," they'd said. We refused. So they broke us.
The women had come and gone, their "interrogations" a mix of forced pleasure and psychological warfare. They'd straddle my face—pussies dripping, juices leaking into my mouth as they ground down, forcing me to lick, to submit. "Taste us... give in," they'd moan, their auras mimicking Elena's purple glow to twist the knife deeper. I'd resist at first—jaw clenched, body straining against the chains—but the chains pulsed, weakening my will, making my tongue move against my wishes. Their climaxes would flood my mouth—hot, slick, unending—leaving me humiliated, raging. And all the while, I'd hear Elena's moans from her cell, the men licking her out, her cries of unwanted pleasure echoing in my skull. It made me angry—jealous, furious that another man was touching her, pleasuring her, even if against her will. The women would suck my dick then—lips wrapping around me, tongues swirling, forcing me to harden, to cum despite the shame. Elena would hear—her anger mirroring mine, our bond twisted into torment.
The next day, the pattern shifted. A man walked into my room—tall, muscular, one of the Extinction males—with Elena in tow. She was naked, chains around her wrists, her voluptuous body on display: full breasts heaving, nipples hard from the cold, pussy glistening slightly as if already aroused. I lashed out against my bounds—chains straining, violet energy flaring weakly—trying to get free. "Let her go! Don't touch her!"
The man laughed—cold, mechanical—starting to strip her further, though she was already bare. He pushed her against the crystal wall, hand sliding between her legs, rubbing her pussy roughly. She moaned—loud, sensual—head falling back as if enjoying it. "Mmm... yes... touch me there."
I yelled to stop—voice raw, chains cutting into my wrists. "Stop! Elena, why? Fight him!"
No answers—only laughter from the man. "She likes it, hero. Watch."
He bent her over—to the point she was looking directly at me, eyes locked on mine. Her breasts hung heavy, swaying as he positioned himself behind her. He thrust in—hard, pounding into her relentlessly. She looked me in the eyes—moaning, "Yes... fuck me... harder!" Each slap of flesh echoed in the void, her body rocking with the force, pussy taking him deep.
I almost snap—seeing the woman I love, my future wife, being fucked right in front of me. "Elena!" I screamed, almost broken, tears streaming. "Stop... please..."
30 minutes later—endless, agonizing—he came inside her with a grunt, pulling out as cum dripped from her pussy. She got on her knees—sucking him dry, lips working his cock clean, moaning around him.
I watched coldly—then said, "Enough. That's enough." Coldly but calm.
The man laughed—frantic, triumphant. The woman I believed to be Elena stood—body shimmering, transforming into one of my female captors, the tall silver-haired Extinction woman. They both laughed—saying, "How smart you are. But too late. Your bond breaks."
Meanwhile, they played the same trick on Elena. In her cell, a female Extinction entered with a false version of me—naked, chained but compliant. The woman started—sucking the imposter's dick, lips wrapping around him, head bobbing. Elena raged—even breaking one arm free from her chains, straining against the barrier. "Stop! Alex... fight her!"
The woman taunted Elena—"He likes it... look how hard he is for me." Elena believed it was me—didn't care, enjoying it. The woman then sat on the fake me's face—riding it, juices flowing, moaning, "Taste me... lick your new master." Then she sat on the fake me's dick—riding until he and she came, bodies shuddering.
Elena then laughed—but scarily. "You made me sit through that thinking it was him. Thinking it was Alex... I will kill you all."
The torture continued—women returning to my cell, one sucking my dick, the other my balls, forcing pleasure amid the pain. We heard each other—angry, jealous, helpless.
But in the dark, we planned our escape.