Alpha’s Kitty Read online

  “Slave of Garn gets advantage. Slave of Lorgen goes first.”

  There was a smattering of applause and one of the masters on the podium looked irritated.

  “The first obedience test is simple. Take the cock.”

  From the floor, a long, thin pole appeared. It had a flared head, just like a bipedal cock, and it looked to be made from solid glass. I guessed the floor of the arena was like the examination table where the tongue gel appeared from nowhere, at my master’s home.

  The slave who had been reluctant to enter the arena, and who had tried to escape, shuffled toward the cock. She stood over it, and it raised, penetrating her. As I watched, it seemed to be growing.

  “Two inches in diameter. Easily manageable for a trained slave,” the announcer remarked, pressing a button on his podium. The slave’s face changed; her eyes scrunched up and her legs began to shake.

  “Three inches in diameter. Challenging.” A small applause broke out.

  The slave whimpered and cried out, her hands fisting at her sides as the cock continued to grow.

  “Three and one quarter inche—”

  “Red!” the slave cried. “Red.”

  The cock deflated quickly, falling away like a balloon, and the slave slumped to the ground, breathing heavily. A murmur went up around the crowd.

  “Slave of Lorgen took three and one quarter inches. Slave of Garn to go next.”

  The cock vanished for a moment, and when it re-appeared, it was a thin pole again. The other slave walked to the cock and straddled it, lowering herself rather than waiting for it to raise up.

  The cock grew again, and I was a little confused by what the competition was, or why it was good to go last.

  “Three inches,” the commentator declared.

  The slave looked deeply uncomfortable, blowing air through her lips and frowning in concentration.

  “Three and one quarter inches.”

  Applause was sprinkled around the room. The slave continued looking uncomfortable, but she said nothing.

  “Three and a half inches.”

  “Red,” she said. The cock deflated and fell away again, and the slave squeezed her legs together tightly when she sat on the floor.

  A cheer and applause went around the room.

  “Slave of Garn wins the first round.” The announcer didn’t need to say it, but he did it anyway. I understood, now. The second slave knew they only had to hold out long enough to beat the first.

  “Round two. Anal bukkake.”

  The spectators looked a lot more interested.

  “The slaves must take a volume of Tuskner cum, then their challenge is to sit on a giant plug, as wide as they can go, without spilling any of the liquid. Slave of Lorgen, kneel in the enema position.”

  I couldn’t remember what an enema was, but the giant plug didn’t sound pleasant.

  The first slave knelt with her ass in the air, head down, cheek touching the floor and arms stretched in front of her.

  “Tuskners are a giant, warlike species native to a nearby planet,” my master explained. “Their thick semen comes in huge quantities, and it burns humanoids.”

  “Yes, Master.” I only said it to make Commander Segue think twice about telling my master to stop explaining this stuff to me. As an outsider, I had no real idea what was going on.

  “The quantity of semen will be determined by another dice roll. Lorgen, roll for your slave.”

  He rolled a dice and his face lit into a grin.

  “Two pints! Slave of Lorgen will take two pints of Tuskner cum in her ass.”

  There was a quiet murmur in the crowd.

  A handler entered the arena with a giant syringe filled with white liquid. The tip was as wide as a humanoid cock. I realized they were filling the slaves’ asses with large amounts of burning liquid. I would have struggled to take even the fat tip of that syringe.

  “Insert the Tuskner cum.”

  The room was silent as the handler slid the tip of the syringe into the slave’s ass, then mercilessly pushed down the plunger quickly, filling her guts with the creamy liquid. It almost looked like a medical procedure.

  When he was done, he pulled the syringe out slowly and her ass winked closed. Her belly showed no signs of the liquid it held.

  “I bet she’s glad her subspecies has an inner and outer sphincter,” Commander Segue remarked, and my master chuckled.

  An anal plug appeared, and it looked far larger than any I’d ever worn. Possibly six inches at its widest point. The slave sat up on her heels before struggling to crawl to the plug. Clearly, the Tuskner cum was already burning inside her. She straddled the plug and bore down on it, clearly trying to take as much of it as possible.

  She took a lot more than I could, and when her ass was flared wide open, with only a little way to travel to the widest point, she suddenly jerked with pain and lifted off it. With her whole ass forced open at the time, white liquid sprayed out of her body explosively, streaming through the air and causing observers to jump back, although the forcefield stopped any Tuskner cum from hitting the partygoers. She screamed and I saw her squeeze her stomach muscles, clearly trying to get the rest of it out.

  “She will have had cleansing enemas before she came. It’s one of the rules; to keep things clean and visually pleasing,” my master remarked. Visually pleasing. That seemed to be one of the main requirements for slaves.

  When she was done, she lay on her side on the floor, in obvious pain, while more white liquid trickled out of her gaping ass hole.

  “The width she reached was five point three inches.”

  Applause and cheering broke out.

  “Next, the slave of Garn must kneel in the enema position.”

  The other woman looked visibly pale, although she obeyed without hesitation. I would have run screaming by now, and probably bitten someone.

  “Garn, please roll the dice.”

  He swaggered over, clearly very confident his slave could win, picked up the dice and threw it.

  “In an incredible twist, Garn has rolled a six. His slave will suffer six pints of Tuskner cum—which means she must remain in position for the maximum amount of three syringes.”

  Cheering and stamping broke out, and I sensed the bloodlust in the crowd, as they recognized a cornered animal.

  Chapter 11

  Kitty

  Three handlers entered the arena and the slave lost her nerve. She jumped up and attempted to run away, but two of the handlers pinned her to the floor and forced her back into position.

  “Apparently, the Tuskner cum is already making her lively,” the announcer quipped, and the crowd laughed. I noticed my master did not.

  “Can her subspecies’ gut take that much liquid?” he asked Commander Segue.

  “Her master will know,” Segue replied, but when I looked down at Garn’s expression of pure sadistic fascination, I wasn’t convinced he had her best interests at heart.

  The first syringe was pressed into her ass and the plunger shoved hard. She whimpered and for a moment I thought she might try to expel the liquid, but she held it, as the syringe was swapped for the second one. This one met more resistance, and one handler had to hold the syringe while another pressed the plunger to get the liquid to fill her. The third syringe was emptied so slowly, I thought they might be doing it on purpose to make her hold the liquid for longer—perhaps a punishment for her attempt at resistance. When it was finally empty, she was groaning and shaking. The handlers released her and left her there. When she got onto her hands and knees, I saw her belly was so distended, she looked pregnant.

  Inch by inch, she crawled to the plug that would allow her to release without shaming her master. Tears drew thick black lines down her cheeks. Finally, she got into position, as teardrops landed on her breasts and splattered. She forced herself down on the plug, but she had barely seated herself a couple of inches before white liquid escaped, trickling down the side of the plug.

  “The immense pressure of t
he liquid has made it escape. Garn’s slave reached two point six inches. She has failed.” The announcer sounded disappointed, but I doubted he cared.

  With a cry of reluctance and embarrassment, she released the liquid. It sprayed spectacularly, pouring out of her ass in a huge torrent, coating the forcefield, the arena, and the other slave, who opened her mouth to say something and got a mouthful of cum out of the other slave’s ass.

  “Swallow! Swallow! Swallow!” the crowd chanted. The other slave swallowed, although I didn’t think a big gulp of burning cum was very healthy for her.

  “The slaves are tied at one all! The third round will decide the winner after a short logistical break!” the announcer said.

  I glanced up at my master as my immediate surroundings became more important than what was going on below.

  “What is the third round?” my master asked.

  Commander Segue smiled knowingly. “The surprise round. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, but it’s a doozy, tonight.” He turned to get more to drink. My master switched his attention to me.

  “Open your mouth for more champagne.”

  Like before, he poured the liquid past my lips from his glass. He always controlled the amount I drank, meaning I had to swallow more of this strange stuff. It seemed to bite at my tongue, and it tasted foul and delicious at the same time.

  “What is champagne, Master?”

  He tipped more into my mouth. “It’s a very expensive alcohol. It originated from Earth although it’s made elsewhere, now, of course.”

  “Earth? The mythical planet we all came from a very long time ago, Master?”

  “It’s not a myth, Kitty. It was a real place.”

  He acted like it was common knowledge that Earth was real.

  “We can’t all have come from the same species. You’re a biped, and I’m a kitten, Master!”

  “A kitten I can interbreed with. Because we are all the same species. You’re just a different breed of humanoid to me.”

  This was news to me, and I didn’t fully believe him, but before I could ask more questions, the announcer returned to his place.

  “May I have everyone’s attention?”

  When I looked down, I saw a huge wooden crate locked with a chain in the arena. The crate banged and wobbled, like something inside was angry and ready to get out.

  “Tell me he didn’t,” my master grumbled.

  “I did,” Commander Segue replied with glee.

  “For the third round, we have a special guest! A real, live Tuskner recently captured in the Fjords of the planet Scandmarkia.”

  Another gasp went around the audience, and I started to feel jaded by the sheer theatrics of it all.

  “Did you have a permit for importing a sentient wild alien?” my master asked.

  “I made a large, private donation to the customs enforcement budget.”

  I didn’t need to be clever to know Segue had bribed someone to let him bring whatever lurked in the box.

  “They’re banned for import.”

  “I know. Because they will fuck anything that stands still long enough.”

  “And they kill anything which doesn’t.” My master seemed dangerously pissed off. I looked back to the arena.

  “Tonight’s third challenge is for each slave to present their ass to the Tuskner for fucking. The task is complete when the Tuskner comes.”

  The slave girls looked at each other with expressions of sheer horror.

  “Slave of Lorgen, present your ass.”

  A handler pulled the other slave out of the arena. Two more handlers unfastened the chain around the box. I watched the box splinter outwards in a series of small explosions, as two limbs appeared first. They were green and clawed.

  The slave was visibly shaking as she remained in position.

  “I am a citizen of Scandmarkia! You’ve no right to kidnap me like—” the Tuskner’s words were cut short as he noticed the girl in front of him. His expression changed and he stepped forward, out of the wreckage of the box. When I saw him properly, I gasped. His cock was enormous—easily the diameter and length of one of my thighs. And right now, it stood to attention.

  He stepped forward and seized the slave girl’s waist, ramming her backwards onto his ginormous member. She screamed with such heartfelt agony that my blood chilled and I had to look away for a moment. When I looked back, he was seated inside her. He didn’t wait but began destroying her ass with his monster cock almost immediately, using his hands to move her rather than fucking her from his hips.

  She begged and wailed but no-one entered the arena to help her. Whenever she tried to claw her body away from his piledriver cock, he pulled her deeper onto him. His cock was almost the size of her head and I didn’t know how it fit inside her at all.

  “It huuuurts!” she moaned, as the creature roughly pounded into her again and again.

  The crowd laughed, and I frowned for a moment, before remembering I was one protest away from potentially sharing her fate. What could I possibly do to help? Who knew what these despicable rich people would do if I tried to intervene? Their voracious appetite for carnage scared me, and I found myself huddling closer to my master. His hand on my back was calming, until I remembered he’d promised me to that awful Mayda woman, later.

  The creature’s claws raked down the slave’s sides, drawing blood. She shrieked incoherently, finally managing to enunciate, “Red! Red! Red!”

  Immediately, four handlers appeared and landed hucow prods on the Tuskner’s skin. The electricity apparently traveled through the slave, who was suddenly thrown off the monster cock. She slammed into the forcefield and lay on the floor, where they left her, whimpering and convulsing, while the second slave was brought in.

  “Garn’s slave must present her ass to the Tuskner,” the announcer said, as the handlers withdrew again. I wondered how they walked through the barrier.

  The slave got into position, head down, ass up, and the Tuskner made a beeline for her as soon as he recovered from the hucow prods. He leaped into the air, flying across the arena with his arms spread wide, and thrust his cock into her as he landed, his entire momentum forcing his enormous member all the way into her. Screaming, she was knocked flat to the ground, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her back onto him.

  “In a rare show of acrobatics, the Tuskner has mounted the llama-girl.”

  The audience applauded. I wondered how many of them would take a giant cock so stoically. The slave was silent, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her fists, and I knew she was in too much pain to submit.

  His nails dug into her sides and clawed her, while his cock fucked her hard for a few more seconds.

  “Red.” She whispered the word so softly, I didn’t understand her until several seconds later, when she called, “Red!”

  The handlers subdued the Tuskner again and when three men managed to drag her off his cock, a stream of blood ran down her thigh. She collapsed on the floor of the arena by the other girl, both muttering and spasming with pain. The second girl quickly passed out and became still.

  “Neither girl completed the challenge,” the announcer said. “So for a tiebreaker, we will use their times. Slave of Lorgen lasted for three minutes, sixteen seconds.”

  Everyone was silent, except the poor, conscious slave who was still whimpering. I thought passing out would be a mercy for her at this point.

  “Slave of Garn lasted for... forty-seven seconds. Slave of Lorgen is declared the winner.”

  The audience went wild, cheering and stamping their feet. The slaves were pulled from the arena by handlers, and the losing slave regained consciousness.

  “Please, master, I need medical attention,” she murmured, her voice somehow carrying over the crowd and silencing them again.

  Her master stepped forward and caressed her face with his palm for a moment, before slapping her hard.

  “Medical help is for winners.” He turned to the announcer. “Leave her for fuckmeat. She�
�s disgraced me.”

  “No! Please! Master! I want to live!” she begged, but he walked away, ignoring her.

  “In the next round of entertainment, two of the rat-men from Vermous are scheduled to completely destroy a live slave girl in the Fuckmeat challenge. They will be given shark hooks, sickles and the obligatory stun gun, should they find themselves feeling merciful. The last time a rat-man used the stun gun on his prey was eight years ago, and we foresee no change to that, tonight.”

  The slave was still begging as handlers carried her back into the arena and two huge bipedal rat-men were thrust in, looking as despicable as ever. Their species was my enemy, and my urge to attack them was strong, as they picked up big metal hooks and advanced on the girl.

  “Master? I feel sick,” I mumbled, and my voice sounded far away. Immediately, my master had scooped me up and was carrying me downstairs. He took me into the nearest restroom and got me into a stall as the first shrill scream came from the arena. I didn’t hold back, as my body reacted violently to the carnage going on outside. It was made more difficult by the fact I was trying not to cry, but eventually sobs exploded out of me. At the second scream from the condemned slave, I covered my ears with my paws as fresh waves of nausea brought me to my knees in front of the toilet.

  “I can’t do this,” I gibbered. “I can’t. I can’t. It’s people out there. I can’t listen. I can’t look. I can’t know.”

  “Pull yourself together, Kitty,” my master muttered. “There are cameras and microphones everywhere.”

  I suddenly had a sense that we were here for a reason other than to watch the carnage. It did nothing to settle my stomach, however. My master held my hair while I vomited again.

  “You’re going to get through this night. You will not be condemned. I will protect you.” His words weren’t spoken in a loving tone, but they comforted me, all the same. “Be on your best behavior around Mayda and remember it is one hour of your whole life.”

  One hour. He was letting her borrow me. Oh, whiskers. Fresh nausea tore through me.

  When I’d lost my lunch from several years ago, things finally subsided inside my body. I was taking slow, deliberate breaths, and when my master brought me water in his cupped hand, I sipped a little of it.