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The commandment room was lit with the typical purple light coming from displays and components used by the Covenant forces. It teemed with officers either commandeering the communications hubs or handling the data they had to skim through.

Nobody was idle, nobody was trying to skimp on their duties as they were reeling and bracing for any outburst from the Chieftain of the Jiralhanaes.

The very same who stood at the center of the room, watching with a defiant eye the Sangheilis to their stations. Not the Unggoy acting as messengers, the Kig-Yar as attendants, or even the Huragoks regularly connecting to machines to gather data. No, his red eyes were fixated on the Sangheilis, the former Guards of the Prophets. Rumors of dissent were slowly spreading among the ships and even in High Charity, stating the Sangheilis were dissatisfied with their demotions across the Covenant.

But it was for reasons. Tartarus was not shy about that demotion as he crossed his arms, listening to the footsteps from behind. Loud, heavy, slow. Other Jiralhanaes, officers who approached as he was focused on his inspection.

“What is this?" asked Tartarus, his voice low and rumbling like thunder. He stood watch, his jaw moving slightly as if he ruminated while he glanced at a Sangheili, an officer whose eyes were drifting away from one screen for… No reasons.

They were in a warzone, currently bombarding and sieging one Human World. And yet, that one Sangheili proved to be a failure. He clicked his tongue in frustration and faced his kind.

“He is back from his missions. We prepared him as requested," said the first guard on the left, still holding his hammer as if he would need it while they were out in orbit. Probably not, but it was a precaution when there were demons out there.

“Stand by. Dereus will take charge in my absence, you will defer to him," started Tartarus as he pointed towards the guards, watching how they tensed before he glanced over his shoulders. “And get me that Field Master out of the way. I tire of seeing their laziness even on my ship."

No words, only a nod. But a silence spread across the command center, as not even an Unggoy dared to quip. Another sentencing as Tartarus left through the doors the two guards came from. In the distance, as he progressed through the corridor dyed in blue and purple, he heard a Sangheili's primal roar as he would be thrown in the brig.

Another one, just as desired, just how the Prophets wanted it.

For so long, the Covenants, an alliance of species, had had the Sangheilis standing above the others as the Prophet's guards. Tall, with reptilian skin, their mouth split in mouth mandibles, they were bleeding like the others and yet kept above.

Tartarus had no pity for them, especially as it was due to one of them the Great Journey had been delayed. One relic a demon had destroyed despite the presence of a Sangheili leadership.

It was justice to have them put down and ashamed for what their kind produced: failure. But one in particular, one was important and prized.

Tartarus pushed a button, opening the sole door to the “quarters". Right at the center of the Ship with a prime access to a pod, the place was the most secure. Even one of the most secure in the galaxy.

One he observed as he glanced at a medical seat placed in the middle of it, onto which was displayed the most pathetic and despicable individual within the Covenant. However, Tartarus could not kill him. The Prophets had ordained him to keep him alive and working, as long as that one's duty was not fulfilled.

“He does not deserve your mercy, Prophet. He is but a failure!"

“Are you questioning our wisdom?"

“I dare not. But my eyes tell me he is a danger to the Covenant. He shall bring disorder to the Covenant. His name is dangerous."

“I see the truth in your words. But… We will give him leniency as long as he remains with you. Do as you wish."

The Prophets' words had been brutal. He dared not to question their authority, but they were too kind to someone who deserved no kindness. Tartarus knew at that moment he had to act. And when that Sangheili, that failure, stepped on the ship after his first mission…

A faint wheezing escaped from the Sangheili, pulling Tartarus away from his rumination. A faint noise he listened to, slightly appeased, while he approached the chair.

Thel'Vadam did not look as glorious and pretty without his armor. Stripped of his weapons, of his protections, of his titles, the Sangheili looked no different than any other once naked. Except for that brand on his chest: the Mark of Shame. He should have been hung by his entrails the moment he received it, but not.

Still, it would be no different as the Sangheili was gladly smiling, his purple saliva tainting the mandibles contorted in that smile.

Those yellow eyes were glazed over, unfocused. All the while, there was a faint wheezing coming from the Sangheili breathing. And a slight suction noise from his earholes as a green-colored Huragok floated behind him, its tendrils reaching for either side of the Sangheili's head.

A deep sound emanated from the Huragok, eliciting a clicking noise from Tartarus.

“I do not care. He is to serve. Even if you must cut most functions," ordered the Jiralhanae as he watched Thel'Vadam's unfocused and broken-down expression. He reached for that muzzle, sensing the lack of tension and reaction as he pressed on the jaw. He was entirely entranced, his mind sedated beyond measure.

“You…" started Tartarus, searching for words beyond insults. He pushed on the skin, felt the cold scales, then pushed the other way that head despite the Huragok's recriminations. He pushed, examined that one who had survived suicide mission after another despite slowly being… Broken down.

“I will make an example out of you," whispered the Jiralhanae as he released that head. He shook his hand as if he could wipe the filth from it before he returned to the Huragok.

“I want to see what is happening. Display."

A low horn sound and the Huragok's head lowered, ashamed. Technically, that one should have been kept on High Charity to heal the Prophets. But through begging, Tartarus got that one. One of a kind, one of the few floating beasts that could work on biological bodies.

As the sound died down, one screen lit up near the medical bed where was lying Thel'Vadam.

And as his eyes observed, Tartarus' hands worked to undo his bracers and armor, the harness he typically wore even in private. He was less covered than most Jiralhanae, but his skin was way more dense and thicker. Even the scars peppering beneath his fur proved it as he threw the metal aside and observed.

The tendrils were working and rewriting Thel'Vadam. They danced inside that thick skull of his, touching and probing the spot on that brain. There was one tendril delving deep into the frontal lobe, clearly the main project. It was where the Huragok had worked first when Tartarus had asked it to make the Sangheili more pliable.

Then, the top part, the parietal if he remembered. Along with the one on the side, under the frontal, that was where the Huragok was working since Tartarus asked for the Sangheili to link the torture to pleasure. More tendrils were spread, however, as they did tiny touches… Each adding to a sort of map Tartarus watched with a smile as he was fully aware of what was happening to Thel'Vadam. And he made sure the Sangheili was aware of it, even if he could not react. He forced him to see the events, the changes, his failures… And just at the thought, Tartarus felt blood surging to his groin.

He should act better than this. But Tartarus felt the urges like any other male. And Thel'Vadam's breaking was something that arose a need as his fingers delved beneath his belt right onto his lower belly. His fur was getting loose and heavy there, but fishing his genitals from it was easy… Easy as he pushed the hair hiding his hefty and low-hanging testicles. As he pushed against the strands, he also exposed his long shaft, red and dripping with fluids. The soft tip was uncovered entirely, lacking the foreskin to cover the darker end and the veiny length. The precum coated everything, the entire flesh, the entire throbbing organ as it slowly lifted and raised up, erect with a slight curve towards the left and upward. It was arched but capable of fucking and pleasing… And satisfying him as Tartarus reached for it, to pass a thumb against the tip.

“Wake him up, but stay attached. I want him to be around," smiled Tartarus, showing his used teeth while he slipped three fingers on the cock's underside to give it a few strokes. Precum dribbled, his scrotum tensed, so did his groin.

His groin was heating up as he heard the faint wheezing stop, followed by a gargle as Thel'Vadam woke up and slowly got accustomed to his body. Groans and moans followed, as well as huffs while the Sangheili looked around, the leather beneath squeaking.

“Master Tartarus?" slurred the Sangheili, his articulation of master slightly wrong while he got the Tartarus name perfectly.

“On your feet, bitch," ordered Tartarus as he watched Thel'Vadam standing up… And his cock, too.

Naked as he was and with his pendulous testicles swaying with each step, the Sangheili did not present an external cock. Rather, he possessed a slit from which poked through the purple-colored organ, covered with a fluid of similar color that permeated the inside of Sangheilis' slits to keep the organs moist and prepared. A cock that pushed higher and higher as blood was pumped inside.

The Sangheili's nostrils were dilated, and he took a deep breath, moving and yet seemingly unaware of the Huragok's tendrils still plunged into his ears and working their magic.

“What can I do for you, Master?"

The Sangheili bowed, as it should have always been, and looked demure. Yet, his golden eyes looked up to Tartarus. The Jiralhanae observed the deference, still stroking his shaft as he admired the Alien… And the way he gazed upon the shaft.

“How does it smell?"

“It?" answered Thel'Vadam, surprised but not peeling his eyes off from the thick glans.

“My cock. How does it smell?"

“Good, Master."

“Good enough to make you hungry?"

The Sangheili did not answer, but then the Jiralhanae turned his eyes to the Huragok, still linked to Thel'Vadam.

“We should change that. Thel'Vadam, how hungry should you be when you smell my cock?"

“As… Much as possible, sir."

Tartarus huffed and smiled at how demure the Sangheili was and nodded to the Huragok, that seemed to work, his action bringing a slight stiffening to the slut's limbs.

Then, there was a sigh and Thel'Vadam relaxed and… Took a deep breath.

“How does it smell?"

“Can I kneel, Master, and worship you?"

“You may."

With a huff, Tartarus answered, but he was pleased with the result. He watched the Sangheili drop on his knees, nearly tugging on the Huragok before his mandibles opened. The serrated teeth danced near the skin but never to nick it. No, it only allowed for that tongue to slip out and come lick the greasy precum-covered cock near the base, where the fur started to form to cover the long-hanging scrotum. All the while, the Sangheili's forehead remained pressed against the organ itself, rubbing and pressing against the underside.

“I am hungry when I smell it," said the Sangheili, his voice enthralled. “It calls me, tells me to taste it. It reminds me of home."

“Correct that thought," pointed Tartarus towards the Huragok. “You have no home, Sangheili."

“I do not," nodded Thel'Vadam while the Huragok worked on his mind. Ever since Tartarus got his hand on the Arbiter, he made sure to adapt and change him, every detail of that psyche.

As a security, he no longer exposed the Arbiter to other Sangheilis. He did not want them to catch on the broken Alien…

“Sangheili. Tell me your purpose."

Thel'Vadam stopped and froze as if he was thinking. For a moment, he remained still while his eyelids fluttered, and then… He spoke. In a monotonous tone: “I am a servant of the Covenant. A worthless Sangheili who betrayed our Prophets. I shall serve my Masters."

“Who are your masters?"

“You, Master Tartarus. And every living Jiralhanae."

“Worship me," smiled Tartarus as he passed a hand on the Sangheili's head, guiding him to have a taste of that uncut cock while he mused. The Huragok was still working, adding more to the projects he had. And then, he turned to the creature as it floated left and right, seemingly musing.

“Deactivate the restrictions. I want to see his reaction."

The Huragok answered with a whistling that started low then reached higher, to signify its surprise.

“Do it!" ordered Tartarus.

And the Huragok followed as multiple tendrils went for the frontal lobe. For a moment, the Sangheili, whose mandibles were stuck open, his long tongue dancing on Tartarus' cock, stopped. He froze; his eyelids fluttered, and his eyes rolled. And then, the eyes refocused. But there was the anger in that gaze.

“Allow him to speak."

The Huragok whistled again, but shortly, before the tendrils wiggled inside the gray matter, and the Sangheili's mouth stopped. A moment of freedom.

“Tartarus," spoke the Sangheili, his tone cold as he stopped his worship. His tongue retracted, but even then… Saliva dripped from his mouth. Even with the conditioning and changes, the Sangheili was fighting against his needs. Such a strong mind.

“Arbiter. Worship me while you are not speaking," ordered Tartarus, and for a second, Thel'Vadam clenched his mandibles. But then, he bent and worked as ordered, licking that cock. And licking it some more, sampling the precum oozing all over the uncut shaft.

There was only the sound of that mouth working that shaft, the distant beepings from the computer screens, the whistling from the Huragok, their breaths… And the squelching sound from the earholes being invaded and abused by that invasive but painless surgery.

“What do you have on your mind? Speak."

“You are a betrayer. You do not want to serve the Great Journey, you did... You did." started the Sangheili, repeating his last words as if he searched for what he was about to say. But that part was slowly re-affected. No need for memories that could go against Tartarus and lead him to his downfall. Even if the Sangheili had been listening and hearing every private communication while servicing Tartarus, it was better to keep those pesky thoughts away.

“Losing your words?"

“You did…" grunted the Sangheili again, his eyes turning away as he grunted. “You are… A worthy Alpha."

“Are you losing your edge, Thel'Vadam?" asked Tartarus with that smug grin, watching the surprise and confusion while the Alien returned to worshiping that cock and sucking it. Sucking as the precum was starting to turn thicker and more white, with a stronger perfume and an even stronger iodine taste.

“You keep… Erasing my memories. What do you want?" asked Thel'Vadam, his mouth lapping the precum as Tartarus grunted and moaned… Before he pushed the Sangheili away, who shifted his posture. Instead of squatting, Thel'Vadam sat on his posterior with his hands on the ground, no different than a feral beast.

“Even if I told you, how do you know I won't erase that from your memory? Or have I not done it already?" asked Tartarus with a smile, reaching for something. A bowl of stainless steel he threw at the Sangheili, catching and placing before him.

In that situation, he looked no different than a pet waiting for his meal. A meal Tartarus went to give as he approached the bowl and stood by it, allowing the Sangheili to work that mouth.

Even blabbering and allowed to think and act by himself, Thel'Vadam's training was far too ingrained to be refused. And so, even with frustrated glares, the Sangheili worked to lick that shaft and clean it. And even if he tried to act uppity and angry, it was obvious he liked that. No, that he was engrossed by the musky perfume mixing shaved wood and burnt steel sticking to Tartarus' fur. He was inhaling it while those mandibles opened wide and pressed on the groin. With that, the Jiralhanae had full access to the Sangheili's throat.

Gag reflexes? It was amongst the first things he had removed and he was certain to keep that pretty memory inside Thel'Vadam's mind. Every change and modification to his mind and body was kept so the Sangheili could compare.

How he could compare the way his esophagus naturally contracted to massage and press on Tartarus' oversized cock. How his hands twitched and worked against him when he held those hefty testicles. How much he salivated whenever he had such shaft in mouth. And, yes, how that hunger was tormenting him.

A hunger that food and the given kibbles could never satisfy. Nothing could appease that sensation, but something Tartarus or other Jiralhanae could provide. Though Tartarus never disclosed it to the crew, not yet. Not as long as there were too many Sangheilis in control.

He sighed, enjoying the moist and velvety hole suckling desperately on his cock. The clenching muscles were tightly holding onto his corona, slightly tugging the cocktip's edge to usher it deeper. He sighed as that tongue swirled and slipped against the base, tugging on the flesh and the skin folding there. Then, the way those elongated fingers managed to firmly hold the entire scrotum, lift it, and give it such a wondrous but firm squeeze.

Tartarus sighed and closed his eyes, taken by the sensations, while the Sangheili worked his mouth like it was requested of him. Those mandibles were slightly digging into his groin, twitching, but his thick skin could take it without hurting at all. No, it was just a slight reminder that despite having the Sangheili hooked and under control, he was still fucking one of the most dangerous and worthless Sangheili around. And he chuckled.

Tartarus chuckled as he sensed the heat coming from beneath, forming at the tip of his spine and slowly rising to his brain. With it, his hands trembled ever so slightly on the Sangheili's head, the pressure applied by his fingers increasing but without crushing that skull. He let them tense up, let Thel'Vadam feel the danger and horror Tartarus could unleash upon him before he started to pump and hump.

Without care, Tartarus scratched his hips against the Sangheili's serrated teeth, felt them dig through his fur while the throat clenched and attempted to stop his movements, slow them so they could massage his cock.

But he had no need for a massage as he was feeling the need coming, rising to his brain like a fire while his groin felt it was about to burst, and then… He growled.

With a loud growl and his hands pressuring, digging, forcing on Thel'Vadam's skull, he forced the Sangheili away while he… Came.

He came, and fluids poured from his cock, like a geyser pointing upward and slightly onward, covering and coating the Sangheili. He covered that one with cum, turned the gray scales into a shade of white as he grunted and jolted his hips.

He came again, as another shot of cum pushed through his cock and landed partially on the Arbiter. But more than that, some began to drop and dribble all over his length.

Another ejaculation, another grunt… And more of that thick, dense and gooey cum spurted free from his cock. More of that white liquid, dense and unctuous, for that Sangheili, dropped over the wide-open mouth, closed eyelids, branded torso… And then, into the bowl.

In the distance, in the afterglow, there was the frustrated whistling from the Huragok complaining about the foreign fluids.

“You can handle that," said Tartarus to the Huragok while he watched the Sangheili staying still with a posture akin to a statue. His eyes were closed, his hands on his thighs. And right by the bowl, the poor Sangheili was also hard as steel with a droplet of cum slipping from his urethra. It could have landed inside the bowl but it did not, it merely dropped by and disappeared on the ground, inside the pool forming all around Thel'Vadam. The Jiralhanae released his grip.

“Open your eyes," ordered Tartarus as he squatted before the Sangheili, his organ still red and hard, his testicles dropping into the cum puddle. Even then, unbothered, Tartarus smacked Thel'Vadam's cheeks, slapping right across the face with enough strength to rattle the Huragok.

Even then, the Sangheili opened his yellow eyes and frowned… Only for his composure to drop when he opened his mouth, he opened his nostrils, and took it his perfume.

“Your meal," commented Tartarus, pointing down the Bowl half-filled with cum.

Thick and gooey cum that was steaming the lukewarm atmosphere, releasing its pungent and masculine aroma. It was the smell of a Jiralhanae Alpha, of a rutting male. A perfume the Sangheili took in by shivering, trying to keep his head up. Those mandibles opened and closed, trembling.

And then, a second later, Thel'Vadam was entirely dropping his chest, pressed his face into the semen. Thick and heavy, he still drank and chugged it no different than a soup while Tartarus watched and smiled… And then chuckled. And then laughed.

“This is where you belong," he mocked as he reached for his hard cock and pushed it down. Even with the natural angle, it was no issue for Tartarus to push his cock down. Down until the cockhead faced the bowl, and he grunted.

His groin clenched again, sending the last drops of semen right by the Sangheili's face. And then… There was the liquid.

At first, it seemed like Cum was pouring through, white and liquid. But then, the liquid turned yellow and translucent. Then, the aroma of cum was replaced by the smell of piss: salty, hot, and acrid. One that started to fill and mix with the rest of what was in the bowl while the Sangheili watched, and yet… Drank. And ate.

Without any issues, Tartarus looked down at the Sangheili, whose face was an entire mess. A pet, yet eager to get his fill from his bowl as the Huragok had planted the command. Not the only one, but one Tartarus enjoyed day after day as, even with the supplements, he saw the Sangheili's body slightly wilting and lose its strength. With such regimen, Thel'Vadam would be the shadow of who he was. And yet, the mere thought sent a tremor through his cock, which throbbed and sent a jet right onto Thel'Vadam's face.

The Arbiter scowled but said nothing as he took another chunk with his mandible and licked the bowl's surface while the piss flow dwindled.

Dwindled and stopped, leaving Tartarus half-hard and excited as he observed the meticulous movement from the Sangheili's tongue. He was to clean that bowl, ensure the stainless steel bore no traces of cum or piss when he was done. Even if there was too much to swallow, even if there was almost nothing… Even if he was tired and used, or incapable to properly move his neck… Even in all those situations, the order would remain the same, and that bowl would have to be licked clean.

Clean of all that salty and warm liquid, of that chunky semen, of what had become Thel'Vadam's favorite meal.

And then, as the last lick left the bowl relatively clean if not for his saliva… The Sangheili looked up. His eyes were angry, but that mouth spoke by itself.

“Thank you for that meal, Master Tartarus."

“Happy to oblige," mocked the Jiralhanae as he stood up, snapping his fingers. “Follow me."

And he strutted deeper within that room, expecting the Sangheili to follow once he stood up.

At first, this room should have been the infirmary for the officers. It had everything necessary to recover from wounds. And it would have been a typical Sangheili ship before Tartarus was given its commands. His first act was then to no longer separate the medical staff and to keep that room for his work, his purpose. He looked at the Sangheilis around there, laying on their bellies with nothing to cover themselves.

Naked, despondent, almost braindead. There were his works as he was using that Huragok to find a way to make them useful. Each failure was to be noted for a future modification on Thel'Vadam. But it left those aliens unable to move and react, hooked on IV while the Huragok and few Jiralhanae in the know played with them.

Whenever they landed near a Jiralhanae colony, they often gave those idiots away while he took more from the brigs to ensure there were always more subjects to test on.

He had to prove to the Prophets the Sangheilis could be remade as tools, as toys to please the soldiers and keep his rutting kind from falling into the most bestial desires. This was his project.

One he admired as he stood right by another Sangheili. Ass up, genitals down, the body almost hidden under the mechanic keeping it alive and well. That one was the most recent trial when Thel'Vadam was absent. A failure, but Tartarus had still enjoyed that firm brown-gray ass. He smacked it, watching the scales and flesh wobble while more cum dribbled from that ruined and gaped hole that failure sported. The orifice was strained, the muscles might be pulled. The other Jiralhanaes had been abusing that one pretty badly, as seen by the few scratch marks.

He turned to Thel'Vadam, who was shocked. That revelation… His project. Tartarus always removed it from Thel'Vadam's mind after each session. Just so he could gloat and mock him, just to see the tremor in the Sangheili's hands and legs, the dry heaves.

“What happened to them? What are you doing to them?"

“I am preparing them for the next steps for the Covenant. You failed, and they must pay the prices, as the Prophets want it."

“It's… It's impossible! The Prophets value us!"

Oh yes. He had forgotten that aspect.

“Huragok. Give him “that" memory back."

That memory. The moment when the Sangheili had been stripped bare, his armor removed piece by piece in front of High Charity, of the Covenant itself. A lifetime of shame relived as the Sangheili's eyes suddenly watered. His legs trembled.

“I-" he mumbled, his throat clenching. That stomach contracted, and the Sangheili was surely fighting against his need to throw up. His throat tightened. But even then, there was nothing as he dry-heaved and retched… Nothing.

“I… You… made me forget. This?" asked Thel'Vadam, bewildered as he wiped his mouth.

“And much more," boasted Tartarus as he pointed that ass. “Use it."

“I won't," answered Thel'Vadam. And yet, those legs worked all the same. That cock sprung to life just like when he was sucking Tartarus off. And those hands closed on that thick ass, digging into the soft scales and muscles. “You… Disgusting Pri… pri… Pri."

“You meant to say, your generous Master."

“You… Generous Master," mimicked Thel'Vadam, his eyes opening wider as, again, the extent of the changes to his mind were shown to him. Even his thoughts and actions were not his own. He aligned his hips with the Sangheili's plump posterior and delved within… Yet, he was still surprised as he sensed no pleasure or satisfaction. He did not stop, though. But his head looked down at that ass he was already plundering, his hips rocking back and forth.

“You cannot sense anything from your cock anymore. You have no need to breed. Bestowing pleasure through it would be a waste."

“Then… Why? Why should I defile… him?"

“He had a name. Something about Field Master Datan… Or close," mocked Tartarus. The Sangheilis' names were convoluted, so difficult to remember. Worthless words to be remembered when failure, error, slut, or other slurs were adequate to them.

“You… did not answer my question," mumbled Thel'Vadam, still clapping that ass again and again, his testicles smacking against the round flesh.

“Address me better," growled Tartarus, gripping the Sangheili's face. And even if he forced the Alien in such a tensed posture, up on a limb, the Sangheili continued to hammer his hips against the victim.

The Huragok whistled angrily, but again, only words but no actions.

“You will fuck them how I say so. Because they are your fault. You failed the Covenants. And I shall punish them because of you. Look at them, Arbiter."

The order came, and with the hand releasing its grip, the Arbiter turned his head. Seven Sangheilis were currently hooked and lying, each having their ass more ruined than the others. Most were barely cognizant, though some moaned and grumbled. Or was it only one?

He looked, and his eyes widened as the conclusion followed. By his failure to secure the holy relic and protect it from a Demon, he had allowed them to be under Tartarus' leadership.

“Do you like seeing them? Those failures?"

Thel'Vadam opened his mouth, his mandibles opening to articulate what he was to say. But he stopped, his eyes widening further. And further as there were only a few sentences he could think of and say.

“Speak."

“This is very generous of you, Master. We deserve to be broken and ruined like this."

Tartarus chuckled, grabbing that head and neck to stroke it.

“Keep speaking your mind."

“Without the Covenant's guidance, we are worthless worms that ought to be crushed."

“Exact."

Tartarus gloated and enjoyed the monotonous tone employed by Thel'Vadam, the tremor in those eyes as those words were spoken without his consent. Tartarus ought to praise the Huragok's work to the Prophets. He pondered about it, his thoughts pacing along the rhythm imposed by the Sangheili's pounding hips.

He saw the distress… And the way the Sangheili was holding onto that ass, pushing inside and rocking back and forth without pleasure. He chuckled, turning around and behind, forcing the Huragok to drift atop and leave the spot for Tartarus to be, as he taped Thel'Vadam's shoulders.

“How does it feel?"

“I feel almost nothing," mumbled Thel'Vadam, his voice unsure but growing bolder. “Is there a reason for asking me this?"

A remark that brought a smile to Tartarus as his hands descended along the Sangheili's shoulders. The muscles tensed in his path from anticipation. The shoulder blades lifted, the erector muscles relaxed, and the Sangheili bent. His feet went both ways, spreading those thighs and those exposed glutes Tartarus grazed with one finger. As much as the body naturally answering, the contractions, multiple and small, revealed the needs and desires the Sangheili felt.

Outrage or anger? The Jiralhanae scoffed.

“Because you forgot what I did to you. You're afraid, frightened of what has happened to you. What else have I done? You cannot speak until you are free to do so. And even then, it is not your words, but mine. You are mine, Sangheili."

That hand slipped between those cheeks, slipping between where scales and sweat met to get a feeling of the crevice. It was warm, tempting, and his fur was catching most of the sweat while his leathery fingers pressed against the hole.

A moan. A deep moan went from the Sangheili's lungs and slipped through the mandibles.

“I possess you. And I will prove to the Prophets you are not worthy of guarding anything," said Tartarus as he approached, pressing his hips against that posterior while he observed what was happening.

A whistle from the Huragok and he knew Thel'Vadam was going through a crisis, his mind bursting with contradictory thoughts. Adrenaline would course through his veins as his breath quickened from anticipation. From the anticipation of feeling that hard cock, red and fiery, and uncut against his hole when those hips fully pulled back.

A cock that nudged, pressed, rubbed, and spread all that cum over the hole. Then, it disappeared when the hips delved within the broken-minded Sangheili. The sensations, just from that, were ecstatic. But Thel'Vadam did not stop… Tartarus had not ordered him so, but that quiver in the mandibles...

“You are afraid of it. Speak."

“You are too big for me, Master. I cannot take it," mumbled Thel'Vadam in a tone that left the doubt whether they were Tartarus' or his. But no, the Jiralhanae had not made that change. He thrived on the Sangheili's fear, on the glances over the shoulders, on the tremor whenever those hips pulled back and pressed against the organ.

And then… Tartarus grabbed Thel'Vadam's hips.

The Sangheili stopped, froze, heaved as the effort stopped and another one was undertaken. He braced himself, and with the little control he had, he even started to slow his breathing. A futile effort when Tartarus pushed his thick cockhead in, and the Sangheili shouted.

Shouted and came at the same time as the sensations from that asshole must have been divine. Another whistle and the Huragok confirmed it. No, added that the cerebral activity was… In chaos.

There were too many details for Tartarus to pick up. He grunted: “Cut the chatter."

The Huragok stopped, and those tendrils kept delving and wiggling inside Thel'Vadam earholes.

The Sangheili gargled and trembled as another orgasm hit him through Tartarus pushing in, stretching that hole like he always did whenever he was angry.

He was taking it out on the Sangheili, whose body answered with more orgasms, more cries, more pained complaints as that hole was abused through.

The Huragok had increased the sensitivity to pleasure, cut the pain, cut the sensations to the male organs, had amplified and rewired all the feedback to that ass. An ass that was slightly modified to welcome the penetration, an ass whose muscles were capable of clenching and holding onto Tartarus.

And they did. The Sangheili desperately held onto the Jiralhanae's cock, tried to slow him down. A pathetic attempt that only increased the pressure onto the cockhead, slightly pressuring it and enjoining Tartarus to do more, to push further, to embrace that tight grip that never left him free to advance, forcing him to take more territory, conquering that orifice again… And again.

“Speak, Arbiter," chuckled the Jiralhanae as he sensed the tremor in those legs and ass while he kept filling that orifice.

“So… G-Good!" moaned Thel'Vadam, his controlled articulation broken into a slurring voice unable to speak without breaking, whether its tone or pace. Saliva kept coming, and it was a hard task for the Sangheili to push it down and swallow it until he could breathe. Hard and nigh impossible when those hits on his prostate elicited jolts and bounces.

His mandibles opened ever so slightly, enough for Tartarus to explore them with one digit, pushing the right ones open, one by one, until he pushed the finger inside. He let the artificial reflexes kick in, to have the slut sucking on the index by moving the base of his mandibles with the softest teeth.

“That's what awaits you all. This is good, isn't it?"

“Aw-ul," moaned Thel'Vadam back, his yellow eyes closed tightly while another orgasm hit and swept him over.

He thought it awful, but Tartarus knew… He knew, and he was to play with the Arbiter.

“Awful? This is not what you said last time. Huragok, let him see."

A complaining whistle and a glare later, the tendrils were wiggling inside those ears in a large amount.

“Wha- HGNFFFF!"

In a second, the Arbiter's proud stance dropped.

His chest bent onward as if he was hit while his expression went from resolute to stupid. Tartarus slipped his fingers away as he continued to pummel that hole, adding to what the Sangheili had to feel, had to face.

Hours of fucking, hours of filling, hours of abuse when Tartarus beat him, whipped him, spanked him, fucked him, played with his holes. The hours spent with the Sangheili worshiping the Jiralhanae's body, licking and huffing his pits like a musk-addicted slut. Then, the hours spent as a pillow for Tartarus' genitals, or even a cockwarmer.

Memories rushed to the Sangheili's mind, flaring inside his mind and burning it with those searing and pleasing images before they were to be erased.

Tartarus smiled, feeling the hole clench like an iron fist, no longer relinquishing the cock away. It was akin to have it crushed between steel walls, but his cock endured it and his pleasure… Thrived in it. Thrived as he felt his groin push more cum within that hole, spraying its insides and adding more to the slew of contradicting feelings. The Sangheili's mind was surely aware of what was truly happening to the guts… And yet, Thel'Vadam lay against the Sangheili's back, his mouth opening only to cry and take another breath in when another layered orgasm took him. He came inside, as clear as that purple cum dripped from the broken lying Sangheili. But it was not to stop, neither for him or Tartarus.

Especially not for Tartarus as he pumped and pumped, feeling his own orgasm coming despite the pitiful ejaculation inside. A lapse… but not something that stopped the Alpha as he pummeled that ass, smacked it under the scales were burning against the leathery skin, ruined that hole until the Huragok had to fix it back.

He gripped Thel'Vadam's neck, closing his fingers on that neck while he heard the gurgle start to slow down, throttled by the leathery hand crushing and strangling him.

“You are asking… How many times," guessed Tartarus. Not that it was surprising, not after their tenth or twentieth time together. He knew the Arbiter's reaction, played with him until he was despondent and broken.

He knew the limits, knew how far he could push him. But never knew how far he could stretch those limits until he was nothing more than a meat puppet, a whore, a slave for the Covenant.

He smiled, feeling the hole trying to strangle his cock the same way he strangled that traitor. He felt the rim closing and yet sucking him, tugging him back inside, whenever he pulled out to the limit. The muscles were so tight they were even delineating where the cocktip stopped and where the frenum should have been.

Tartarus grinned, his mouth split until he showed those clean teeth. He chuckled yet breathed like a beast of burden. He was so close… So close.

His hand tightened despite the foam forming at the Sangheili's mandibles. His hips pushed faster despite the Huragok's outraged whistle. His hips hit and smacked, his testicles beating red the Sangheili's. He was in rut, rutting and eager to plow that hole until it could serve no other purpose tonight.

Purpose… That Arbiter would have one fitting for his failure, not one the Prophets would give, for political stunts. No, that one was to be his… His bitch. His.

His favorite hole in which he loved to blow all his loads.

In the distance, he heard the gargling noise and the whistling growing higher and higher. The muscles were releasing their embraces on his dick. He could move in and out without being stopped. Even the rim was no longer sucking him in.

A shame.

Still, he pushed and as he leaned, pressed his chest against the Sangheili's back, crushing him… He released his grip. He released it and came, feeling that cum filling that whore.

He grumbled and smiled, barely heeding the satisfied cries from the Huragok and the wheezing from the Sangheili's breath.

He chuckled, enjoying how the hole tightened again when he shook his hips left, giving the inner walls a lovetap. And then, Tartarus turned his gaze on the Huragok.

“Stop and cut the pleasure. Bare."

The creature asked, but in the afterglow, Tartarus had no need to be questioned. His brows dropped as he fixated on the creature, squirming and wanting to fly away. No… He gripped one tendril, one inside the Sangheili.

“Cut the pleasure."

Another whistle, but the creature seemed to work.

The hole twitched from the invasion, leading to a firm squeeze on Tartarus' cock, milking him of what was still stuck inside. And he grumbled, feeling that cock spew what remained inside. Beneath, the Sangheili was still heaving. And those eyes were shut as Tartarus began a slow back-and-forth, his still hard cock pistoning within. He was taking it slow, churning all that Jiralhanae seed stuck within the Arbiter and oozing from the ruined hole.

Then… A whistle.

“Ashamed, Arbiter?"

“Why… Are you… Doing this… To me?" asked the Arbiter, his voice coarse and broken. It would be days, if not hours, through the Huragok's work, to heal those vocal chords. But lucky them, the Arbiter was not to be sent on a mission for long. Tartarus could keep him, play with him, enjoy his presence as much as he desired.

In the distance, there was the sound of a door opening and closing, of grunts from a Jiralhanae and cries from a Sangheili.

“Nothing brings me more pleasure than to play with you, Sangheilis. You are a fine toy," said Tartarus as he kept pumping inside, feeling the hole naturally clench as the pleasure had been cut from that hole. In fact, it must have been odd not to feel the pain or pleasure to be penetrated.

“I will never let you rest and recover. You will be mine, and my partner in this project. Together," laughed Tartarus.

And as if on cue, two presences approached.

“Arbiter?" asked the Sangheili, a runt of his species with his ashen tone and small size. Stripped of his armor, the arms and legs attached, the soldier was barely another one picked from the brig to be added to the collection. Without even thinking, without hiding his grin, Tartarus pulled from Thel'Vadam's hole. He pulled and let his cock lose despite the surprised cry from the Sangheilis as that hole suddenly gaped and cum poured from it like a cascade.

With a nod, Tartarus sent the guard away so they could be alone, all three… As those bound Sangheilis around were not counting, not anymore.

“Huragok. Return the Arbiter to his cage. We have work to do," chuckled Tartarus as he approached, watching the Sangheili try to turn, twist, and drop as his legs were like weight.

Behind him, he heard the gargle from the Arbiter, but then his steps followed Tartarus. He would follow him as the Jiralhanae wanted to break another Sangheili tonight.