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“Fuckin’ shitblood.” Kindra yanked roughly on your horns, and you groaned in pain as he forced you to look where Pitche was laying. She was out cold, crumpled on the rough stone floor with her arms chained together and attached to the wall. Even through the blur of your own tears you could make out the scrapes and bruises on her skin.
“This is all your fuckin’ fault you know,” The violetblood’s hips slapped against yours roughly and the impact caused your face to scratch against the floor. “She deserves better than you . A shitblood who can’t even keep her safe.”
You let out another whimper of pain as he leaned down to bite at your shoulder aggressively, easily drawing blood with his sharp teeth as he rutted into you. His bulge felt colder than any other highblood you had been with before, but even that wasn’t enough to dull the pain from his seemingly endless thrusting. Fresh tears blurred your vision as he pressed your face into the floor harder, bearing down on you.
“You’re not good enough for her Nariel,” You shuddered at the mention of that name, and Kindra’s grip on your horns tightened. “You were never good enough to be her moirail. It should have been someone strong enough to protect her. It should have been me !”
With an angry growl, Kindra yanked you up by your horns and moved to wrap his arm around your throat. Your yelp of pain was cut off as he started to squeeze, cutting off your airway. You started to panic, struggling and straining fruitlessly at the bonds securing your arms together behind your back.
“I should just cull you already,” malice dripped from his voice, and his arm tightened on your throat. “All this pain is your fault. She’d be so much better off if you were dead.”
You struggled harder, desperately trying to suck in air even as your vision started to close in. You could feel your consciousness starting to slip, your ability to struggle growing weaker as your vision darkened and blurred. You were almost ready to welcome the relief from your pain when the pressure around your throat pulled back.
A sobbing cough tore from your throat as your lungs desperately sucked in air, vision flaring back into brightness as Kindra dropped you face first onto the floor. He pulled out of you with disgusted snort, kicking you onto your side as you let out another sob of pain.
“You don’t get off that easy,” His foot knocked away your writhing bulge, pressing against the small bloat of trapped slurry in your stretched genebladder. “You deserve to suffer for how pathetic you are.”
A shudder of pain wracked your body as he applied pressure to the lump, sneering down at you. The bulge ring he had forced on you had been there for days, making release impossible and causing near-constant aching from the build up of slurry. His foot shifted, and he pressed against your bulge next, letting the metal ring dig into you a little harder.
“She’s mine Nariel. And you can never. Have. Her. Again!” He punctuated his words by digging the tread of his shoes roughly against your bulge, grinding into the sensitive flesh, forcing weaker and weaker sobs from you. It was just too much. Your throat was raw from sobs and cries of pain, and all the strength had left your body.
Even when he finally pulled his foot away, you couldn’t react, and your vision was blurry and unfocused. The last thing you saw as unconsciousness overtook you was Pitche starting to stir, and the back of Kindra’s leg as he started to walk towards her.