Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 132: The Feeling of Disgust
I woke up slowly, my mind foggy and head throbbing like a bad hangover.
Consciousness trickled back bit by bit, but when I tried to open my eyes, nothing happened—thick cloth pressed tight over them, knotted hard at the back of my head, blocking every bit of light.
A blindfold.
Panic bubbled, but worse was my mouth—a rough strip of fabric gagged me deep, pulled so taut it dug into the corners of my lips, forcing my jaw wide and aching.
The cloth—coarse cotton, tasting bitter like old sweat and chemicals—wadded thick between my teeth, muffling my tongue flat, drool pooling sticky at the edges where it rubbed raw.
I could only breathe shallow through my nose, each inhale ragged, the knot behind my neck unyielding when I tested it with weak head shakes.
My hands were bound tight behind my back, wrists crossed and roped with scratchy cord biting skin, elbows nearly touching from the strain.
They hadn’t bothered with my legs—useless anyway, limp dead weight splayed awkward. If I guessed right, I was stuffed in a car trunk—cramped dark space, engine rumbling low beneath me, tires humming steady over road bumps that jolted my body. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞
Air stale and hot, smelling of oil, rubber, and faint exhaust seeping in. My golden skirt bunched high, raven hair matted sticky with sweat or worse—dirt? Blood? —clinging to my neck.
Tears welled hot under the blindfold anyway, soaking the cloth, even though I hated crying now.
Of course this happened. Heroine’s journey, right? Not some powerful sword-wielding badass—me, starting as villainess trash, replaced Lily as the heroine.
Every heroine has to get kidnapped for the plot to work, and the same goes for me. As the heroine, it’s my duty—I guess.
And right after her?
I hated Lily—orange-haired alpha bully, using her status to make me blush nuclear, scents twisting my omega core slick against my will.
Did she kidnap me? Or was it just a coincide?
No, Lily wasn’t that despicable—she even had saved me before... so, I guess. It was someone else. How many enemies do I have? A lot.
Suddenly, the car jolted to a stop, engine cutting silent. Car doors creaked open, then slammed shut hard, followed by muffled voices—two men, rough and low, boots crunching gravel outside.
Strong arms hoisted me up rough over a broad shoulder like a sack, my bound wrists straining against the rope that bit deeper into skin with every bump, elbows screaming fire.
Pain shot through my numb legs flopping limp against his back—nothing like my alphas’ gentle princess carries; this felt violating, stomach churning on his muscled frame, golden skirt riding up indecent.
"This bitch’s legs are fucking useless—dead meat," one grunted close, breath hot on my thigh.
"Dump her ass on the chair, tie her tight so she doesn’t flop off. Rope her good—no wiggle room."
They dragged me inside roughly—the cool air hit my hot skin sudden, stone floor echoing their heavy boots as they dropped me hard onto a wooden chair that creaked under my weight.
Ropes came fast—thick rough coils wrapped tight around my waist to hold my torso still, looped around my useless ankles to the chair legs even though it did nothing.
My wrists were pulled back behind me double-knotted hard against the wood, chest tied snug under my breasts that rose fast with scared breaths, my golden skirt pulled up high showing my pale thighs.
"Shit, boss never said the target was such a pretty omega. Look at her—black hair all wild and messy, skin white and soft, big tits pushing against the rope, lips stretched wide around the gag with drool."
"Yeah, she looks so weak—emerald eyes probably crying under that blindfold, her sweet smell thick even when scared. Bet her pussy is tight and empty, wanting a knot bad."
"Think boss lets us have a turn first? Bend her over the chair, pull up skirt, shove cock in her gagged mouth—make her choke while I fuck her from behind?"
"Her dead legs mean no kicking—easy to spread, knot her deep till she squeezes us. Boss might share if we get her here fast, no bruises."
Rough hands touched me then—big palms grabbed my breasts hard through the shirt and rope, fingers yanked skirt hem higher, nails scraped my inner thighs rough.
I yelled muffled loud—"Mmmph! Nngh!"—body jerking hard but useless, legs limp and open no fight. It felt so dirty and wrong; tears soaked the blindfold hot, stomach twisted sick disgust I’d never felt before.
Disgusting... stop touching me... please, someone help...
It felt utterly disgusting—no slick formed at all, nothing like the warm rush I got around my alphas. Hellen’s honey-citrus made me melt safe, Ivory’s chili heat sparked protective want, Reyes’ cedar-steel grounded me in trust despite their teasing perversion.
Those moments felt right, desired.
This?
Pure violation, stomach churning bile, skin crawling under rough palms that groped without care—big, callused hands squeezing breasts through rope and shirt like meat, nails raking inner thighs red-raw, fingers yanking gold skirt higher to expose lace panties.
No instinctual pull, just revulsion cold and sharp.
Drool leaked steady from my gag, thick cotton wad-soaked bitter sweat forcing jaw wide aching, strip pulled so taut it rubbed lip corners raw red, saliva dribbling slow down chin in humiliating trails, pooling sticky on heaving chest where ropes bit skin.
"Mmmph! Nngh!" Muffled yells choked wet, body jerking futile against coils—waist pinned immobile, wrists double-knotted wood-slats bruising, chest bound snug under breasts straining panicked breaths, ankles looped pointless to legs.
"Pretty drool, omega—makes her mouth look fuck-ready," one laughed crude, thumb smearing chin slick. "No scent spike? Boss broke her good—dry cunt for us."
Tears flooded blindfold hot relentless, soaking cheeks salty, emerald eyes burning unseen.
Tears flooded the blindfold hot and relentless, soaking my cheeks salty wet, emerald eyes burning raw unseen under the dark cloth.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed slow and heavy, nearing the chair—boots on stone, deliberate.
"You two stop touching her like lecherous bastards." A very familiar voice cut sharp into my ears—cold, commanding, one I knew too well. "You are not going to touch her like that in front of me."
"Boss? But she’s prime—"
"Boss, can we get a turn after you play with her first?"
"Play? I have no intention of doing that. She’s my leverage to save me. And you’re not doing anything useful—back off now."
