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Abusing the Vastayan

Part Two

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Adagiodajiang

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Part two of three.

Rengar woke slowly, blinking dully, swimming through a thick fog as if he had to get back to the surface of a deep lake, lest he lose himself down there completely.

“Whuh… Whuh… What?"

He tried to talk, yet his tongue was thick in his mouth, fuzzy as if he needed a drink of water, a metallic taste that was vastly unpleasant lingering there. Rengar worked his jaw, dully turning his head back and forth, bound to a wall with his hands above his head and his ankles forced wide.

He cursed inwardly, in his own language. Not that it meant anything, heart leaping and dropping, stomach turning over, as his vision cleared enough to take in the blood-stained operating table that floated up in his memory.

Yes… Something had happened there. He'd been in and out of consciousness, humans with masks over their mouths and noses doing something to him. Pain… Rengar swallowed, but it didn't help anything. He remembered a lot of pain, an awful lot of it. There had been an operation…

He twisted, trying to look behind him, though that only made the dull ache in his body ramp up tenfold, slamming his back with a muffled roar against the wall. It was worth it, even with the sharp grind of pain, a metallic sound rising, clawing at his ears. Hanging there, recovering, Rengar's stomach twisted into sickening, churning knots.

There was something there… Something implanted into his back. They had done something to him, though not even he was sure how much more of his fragmented memories he could take coming back to him.

Out. Yes… He had to get out, had to do something, had to break free, the stone-walled room that he was in half clinical, half as if it was somewhere where robots were dissembled, broken down into spare parts.

He sucked in a breath, chilled to his bone. Was that all he was to them? Spare parts?

That was not something that he should think too deeply on.

He breathed raggedly, harshly, as if every single breath he heaved into his lungs was hard-won. His head rolled to the right and the Vastayan jumped to see another creature bound there. His vision had only been cast out before him at that time, caught up in his predicament, though it only made sense that he would not be the only one down there.

But…he wasn't a Vastayan, even if he was an anthro creature of some kind, with large, blocky horns. There was not only one set of horns but split at the top to make four horns total, the ones further back curving up as if they were the horns of the devil. His hide was a muddy, dirty purple as if the pallor and health had slipped from him, head hanging, though his eyes were on Rengar. His hair spilt down his neck and back in a mane of shorts, blue but rough and coarse, as if it had not been washed for some time.

Rengar clenched his jaw, not with his strength returned but a little more resolve. A minotaur. And, from the looks of it, he had the same kind of device implanted into his back, locked down into his spine, a flashing light on it.

“I wondered…" The minotaur grunted, struggling to find words after so long speechless. “When… When you would awake…"

Rengar worked his tongue around his mouth, though the dryness there was not so easy to overcome.

“I… I thought I was alone. Is this what the humans do…here?"

The minotaur shook his head.

“I don't know." His words came gruffly, the ring in his nose hindering his speech a little, hanging heavily against his muzzle. “They come. They go. They observe. They take measurements. I don't understand all of what they say."

Rengar frowned, tail tucking down.

“You mean you do not speak the language?"

“No… I speak their language. But I don't know what they want with me, the terms they use… They speak as if in a foreign tongue with the words and science…" The minotaur frowned, his broad chest rippling with muscle, bulging out of his skin. “They are experimenting… I don't know what for."

Rengar considered that, shaking his head. He barely wanted to move, shoulders aching, catching his breath, though there didn't seem to be any room to do so: he was bound that tightly.

“Experimenting… They…"

No. He didn't want to go over what had happened to him out in the jungle, heat rushing in burning, sickening humiliation at the mere memory. Fuck, that was not what he wanted to dredge up, the memories that had stripped him of his status, how they had degraded him, abused him, left him feeling less than the hunter that he knew he was.

No. Rengar clenched his jaw. He'd keep that to himself.

“Name's Alistar. And yours?"

Well, there was no power to be had a name, not where they were. The Vastayan shrugged, to the limit that his bondage allowed.

“Rengar. That is my name. Where are we, Alistar?"

“In Zaun, somewhere," Alistar said with a heaving sigh, rolling forward as if the weight of it all was too much for him. “The Chem-Barons are all over the place… The eyes of them, I mean. Always watching, waiting."

He nodded towards the window, pulling forward a little, though the window was so grubby and dingy that Rengar had not noted it as a window. It had just looked like part of the wall. Yet it was true: through it could be seen the infested city blooming with purple and blue and yellow and green – too many shades to count – alchemical poison gas. It was nothing to be looked at and not somewhere that Rengar could ever have imagined inhabiting. Like so many things that had happened since he'd set foot in the jungle to hunt what seemed like only a short while ago, it stole the very words from his lips, leaving him speechless.

Yet he caught sight of something more, a little more detail, on the minotaur's back as he leaned forward, the device an intricate system of chambers and pumps. With what he knew of alchemy, Rengar would not have been surprised to see it hissing with air as it worked through the mechanism, but there was surely something more insidious to it too.

He would find out later, yet Rengar was sure that he would not like the answer. He still wanted to know. It was better to know and understand one's enemy than to be left in the dark and the Vastayan had no intention of staying in Zaun for a single moment longer than necessary. Which was, to say, no time at all.

He might have been beaten down, but he was not out yet.

“Ah. Excellent, you have arisen."

It was a person that the minotaur did not want to see, though he let his feelings on the matter lie in the clenching of his jaw, how he drew his shoulder blades up and back. They might have been nude there before the Chem-Baron, a member of one of the most influential, powerful groups in Zaun and beyond, but he was still Alistar and the Vastayan was still Rengar. They were not experiments to be passed around as the Chem-Barons willed.

At least, that was what they had to cling to.

The Chem-Baron observed them, a strange-looking man that seemed more robot than man with large, rounded shoulders made of machinery. It was difficult to tell where the man ended and the machine began, if he was fused with it or wearing it as a kind of armour, but his head and bristling, thick moustache could be seen, sunk into a sallow, pale face. They were not the kind of humans that saw much sunlight, yet their power was irrefutable.

Rengar glared, hissing through his teeth.

“Release me, human! Or this will be the last moment you ever take a waking breath."

Of course, the Chem-Barn ignored him completely, clearing his throat, though it was for his own benefit rather than Rengar's. To his credit, Rengar endeavoured not to thrash and howl, as much as he strained against his chains, his whole body aching and trembling to lash out, to strike the man down where he stood.

“I have received a threat two days ago from Warwick," he began, speaking as if they were having a pleasant, if serious, conversation. “He is a murderous beast, recently in the city of Zaun, a werewolf. Of course, we cannot stand for this manner of behaviour from a werewolf, so we have scoured the earth for a creature to beat him. And then I found you two."

He surveyed them, the seething Vastayan and the stoic minotaur.

“Those alchemy devices, wild-makers, I call them, are of my design. Quite clever, aren't they? These pumps are locked into your cervical matter, bloodstream and muscles, able to deliver a dose of alchemical potions wherever they are needed."

Rengar snarled, lips peeling back from his teeth.

“They'll never affect us," he challenged the Chem-Baron, chains strained taut as he fought to rip them from the wall. “We'll never give in to the likes of you!"

The Chem-Baron laughed shortly, no humour in his tone.

“You would say that, wouldn't you? But I haven't even finished. These potions will render you bloodthirsty, wild, mad, crazed with the fire to fight and strike down your opponent through any means possible. I first thought that they could be used in the fighting rings, of course, but I find their use on you to be more apt, considering the situation."

He surveyed them quietly, holding his words back until he was ready to spare them.

“You'd still obey commands, of course, while under my alchemical influence. That is a given. There would be no ability in you or your bodies to even think about disobeying, one of my finest creations in potion-making. You will protect me from this beast, this Warwick. But I am only willing to choose one of you to be my bodyguard."

Rengar swallowed hard, not wanting to show the Chem-Baron how a chill, suddenly, had slipped down his spine. He had a feeling that he was not going to like what the Chem-Baron had to say next one little bit.

“Thus, we shall have a duel," the Chem-Baron, nameless still, announced, his chest raised as if it was a great proclamation indeed. “The winner will protect me, become a bodyguard. And the loser… Well, they will be sent to the operating table, of course. We do not need those that are weak, except to further to cause of the strong."

“You sick bastard," Rengar heaved, dragging at his chains, snarling and snapping, the minotaur's quiet fury rising beside him. “You're never going to take us – never going to make us do it! Humans are brutes – inhumane! Your experiments will not be tolerated by the Vastayan."

“Oh, your species?" The Chem-Baron shook his head, moustache quivering in a smirk. “They don't even know you're here and neither will they. It is not as if they will go after the runt of any litter, after all."

“We are thinking creatures," Rengar seethed, fists clenched. “We will not obey you."

“No…" Alistar rumbled, standing tall, solid in his support, chest heaving with short snatches of breath. “We will not. We do not allow this_. Release us_."

Alistar sounded like one who was better used to giving commands than taking them, but as he turned to draw on the minotaur's strength, Rengar's head shot up and back. A chill seeped through him, a potion pumped into his veins, the minotaur's horns striking the wall behind him as the same happened to him.

“Unff!"

Alistar heaved, clenching and unclenching his fists, yet the minotaur was in no better of a position than him, heaving, panting, as the very same green potion was injected from the container on the back of the device – reinforced so that they could not simply smash it to pieces and find themselves free, forced into their veins.

For a moment, Rengar thought that he could fight it. He thought he was stronger than it, that he could heave and grunt and pant and force himself to bear through it, a dull growl building in the back of his throat. Yet he was gone before his mind caught up with what was happening, snarling, pupils narrowing to feral slits, no longer showing the intelligence of a Vastayan behind them.

He snarled, heaving at his chains, muscles bulging, though Rengar had no target, mindless with bloodlust. To rend, to tear, to rip, to kill: there were no other thoughts in his head. The metallic ring of blood in his maw might have been his own and yet it was more than enough to assist in sending him into a frenzy, the minotaur stomping and bellowing at his side.

Their roars echoed off the walls as the Chem-Baron stepped back, sweaty, heaving, bloodthirsty monsters, no more than the beasts that humanity had seen them as all along. It was funny how that could become a prophecy to be fulfilled, in the end, humans transforming them, breaking their minds with a simply elegant dose of alchemy that stripped their rational minds from them.

The Chem-Baron smiled dangerously.

“Very good, my fiends… Yet who will fight to the death for me?"

They didn't hear him, the minotaur's eyes blazing crimson, stomping, heaving, their bodies soaked with sweat. They didn't know who they were, where they were, what they were doing, madness consuming them, a darkness in their souls, even if it was solely from the alchemy, not their real beings.

Kill.

Death.

Blood.

Thirsty…

So thirsty…

Rengar heaved, eyes manic, wild, lost to himself, the potion, the strain in his muscles beyond him, not even able to think of himself and his safety, that he couldn't continue as he was, forcing himself to tear at the chains, not even rattling as he wrenched at their deep seating within the wall itself.

The Chem-Baron backed away with a smile, though he had plenty of time to ensure his safety before they broke free, spittle flying, ripping the chains from the walls.

Kill.

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Alistar roared, pounding on his chest, locking his eyes onto Rengar as the Vastayan turned on him, manacles around his wrists, chains dangling.

Kill.

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Yes, kill, kill the minotaur! He practically drooled at the thought, salivating heavily, their bodies lunging, closing the distance between them while the Chem-Baron watched from behind a clear screen. But neither of them cared about him, not while they could not get to him, not when they had a target right there before them, one that they could hurt, take out the glorious, sordid glee of their bloodlust on.

Yet they were not in their right mind, mindless, blurring the lines of reality as the potion as pumped into their veins, strengthening their muscles, forcing them to fight, to use every scrap of their beings in the pursuit of it.

Time passed in a blur, fists flying, blood pouring, a laceration across the minotaur's chest, a throbbing, dull ache in the pit of Rengar's belly. Yet he could not stop, would not stop, the only thought left in his mind to kill – and the minotaur was the only living creature there.

He skidded, slamming into the wall without knowing how he'd gotten there, a blur of movement around him as if the world was moving rather than him. That didn't make sense, yet he thrashed and fought back as the minotaur's hands closed around his throat, choking him out, pressing in on either side as his vision wavered.

The Vastayan shoved him off, hurling him to the side, pursuing, claws flashing, fists pounding, pummelling, though there was no finesse to his bloodlust. As the Chem-Baron had said, even though neither of them understood what had happened to them, they were mindless beasts, merely obeying the will of their master in fury and bloodlust.

It did not matter in the end. A mere thirty minutes had passed when Rengar landed on the ground, the minotaur's hoof driving into his stomach, forcing him to buckle, grunting, wheezing, heaving. Yet he still sought to grab at the minotaur, to get his hands around him through any means possible, to bring him down, seeing only the threat, the urge to kill coursing through him. Every beat of his heart had the hunter struggling to fight back, to take down the minotaur, yet all he saw was a towering, muscled beast, the kind that could beat him down into the dust of the earth, forget about him in a moment.

Once Rengar was gone, Alistar would have another victim. Yet all would be as the Chem-Baron wanted it to be, in control, overpowering, smirking proudly at the might of his creation.

The minotaur bellowed and Rengar didn't even have a chance to fight length, his arms not as long as the minotaur's, caught off guard as the beast pummelled his chest and stomach, kicking and stomping, bruising him deeply, cracking bones. Rengar did not feel any pain, yet his struggles fell weaker, his body understanding what had happened even if his mind did not know that he could not fight back.

Fight, yes, he had to fight, had to kill, had to feel the rush of fresh blood in his maw. All he did was struggle helplessly as he was dragged up by his shoulders, the minotaur bellowing, saliva flying from his maw, slammed down into the ground again and again. Dimly, Rengar was aware of the almighty crack his body made as it connected with the stone, breaking through it as if it was kindling, the structure of the building under threat as he was trampled underfoot.

Hooves. Cloven hooves. That was all the feline saw as he was brutally pummelled down, though he did not even know that there was someone there that could stop it, that could call an end. That might have made him feel better or it might have made him feel worse, but the matter was not one in Rengar's hands. He was just there to take all that the minotaur could dish out, the duel won. The minotaur only needed a punching and stomping bag to expend the ultimate wrath of his fury, beating him down and down and down, neither of them in their right minds.

They had never been duelling, however, for honour as Alistar smashed his jaw, the pound of hooves drowning out all else. Yet the Vastayan still caught onto the clawing, sick creep of humiliation to be forced down so low. Even though his ability to think was no different from the animals and beasts that humans considered them to be, he could tell that there was a humiliation in being broken in such a way, though not from bones cracking, the taste of blood in his mouth, his whole body aching deeply, as if he was not going to make it through.

Not a thought…but a sensation. A sickening twist in the pit of his stomach, a sense of weakness that he wanted to quail away from. Even then, if he had been free to do so, the Vastayan would have crept away to lick his wounds and never shown his face again in public, a beast that had been bested, humiliated deep down in the darkness of his heart and soul.

Fallen… Broken… There was no reason for him to lose, not in a one-on-one battle with a minotaur, although they had matched one another well, initially, in size and bulk. Alistar had simply wanted it more, had the edge – and once that edge was gained, it was difficult to go back on, to come back through to anything at a time like that. He couldn't have gained the upper hand again when he was down on the ground, his hands raised, doing anything he could, weakly striving to protect himself, the runt of the litter, the broken beast that had fallen in battle.

He blinked, heaving, grunting, pain returning in a swathe that ripped his sensibilities right back out of his mind even as his sanity returned to him. Oh, but Rengar did not want it! The pain, oh, the pain… It was too much, a thousand needles jabbing into him, his bones shattered, an arm hanging limply, blood dripping into his eyes. That was not the half of it, but all he had was a groan as the minotaur stepped back, his head held high.

Wild. Untamed. Yet he was controlled, yes, the alchemy in his veins freezing him in place, locking up his muscles. Yet the minotaur quaked still with bloodlust, eyes locked onto Rengar even as the Chem-Baron, without any protective barrier between them anymore, approached, step by calculated step.

“I have suspended your device, cat," he said disparagingly, though it was solely for his pleasure in his creation that he spoke aloud. “You… However… it is time for your reward, minotaur! Your triumph in the duel has pleased your master greatly!"

Even as Rengar heaved, Alistair could not move, allowing the Chem-Baron to adjust the device on his back, though what was on Rengar's back had already been suspended, at least for the moment.

Alistar shuddered, nose tucking down, yet not even he could hold back the roar from bellowing out of him, as if he was a beast pounding on his chest, displaying his feral need for all to see. The minotaur heaved for breath, yet he needed every drop of oxygen he could get as Rengar tried, weakly, to push himself up onto all fours.

It was the wrong move to make, even as the hunter tried to crawl away, tried to scour one last tiny vestige of his pride from the pit that it had been shoved into. His head spun, yet the fingers of the minotaur, no longer feeling as if it was the being that he had spoken to only a fleeting time ago. No, it was worse than that, the thick length of the minotaur's huge, throbbing cock grinding over his backside, pushing against him just like the sex toy attached to the robot (if that had even been its original purpose) had abused him out in the wilderness.

He caught his breath, heart pounding, yet Rengar didn't have the breath in his lungs to stop him, wheezing, gasping, his eyes watering as, somehow, his nose tipped down submissively. There was simply no energy left in him, shaking and trembling, wishing against all wishes that he had the minotaur's hooves driving into him again, trampling him. Anything but the humiliation of his burning hot cock driving into his tail hole, stretching him open, brutally raping him.

For it could not be considered anything else, not as he howled, unaware of whether he made a sound or not. It did not matter, could not matter, grunting, clawing at the ground, scraping and scrabbling, though there was nowhere for Rengar to go. He was trapped there, the minotaur driving into him, grunting and heaving, pounding with all his might, using his body as if it was nothing more than a sexual aid, a sex toy, something with which he could amuse himself with and then toss away.

His anal ring screamed, pain blossoming down his back passage, yet the feline had to bear through it, head swimming, vision fading. Against his will, Rengar stayed conscious, loathing every second, the minotaur's huge hands closing around his shoulders, shoving his chest to the ground, all for a better angle. All that mattered to the bloodlust addled Alistar was that he got the sexual pleasure that he wanted, completely under the influence of the potions.

Dimly, Rengar wondered whether Alistar, when he was in his right mind again, would regret what he'd done there, though the thought came to him as if he was set back away from his body in such a way that he could not scrape himself back into his reality. He was nothing more than a passive player in his own debasement, grunting and heaving, struggling merely to keep on living.

That cock bore into him as the powerful minotaur bellowed, the scent of blood in the air, his massive horns swinging back and forth. All he knew was pleasure, driving in repeatedly, slamming deep, tearing through Rengar's body as if he held as much substance as parchment. Alistar bared his teeth, mindless, a sex-fuelled drone, his lips quivering, scents clinging to the soft moisture of them just below his nose, need coursing through him with every thrust.

There was nothing else for it, not as he slammed in, Rengar's weakened body forced to respond. He might not have understood what prostate stimulation was, but he knew that some part of it felt good, his cock half-hard. The good feelings, trembles of pleasure from the grinding, pounding thrusts, ached deeply, yet they did not overrule the pain, blistering, seething heat clawing at the pit of his stomach.

No… Oh, no… He didn't want to feel it, couldn't feel it! The pleasure blossomed through the pain in a way that made him want to quail away from the nightmare that his reality had become, grunting, panting, the minotaur's cock grinding up against a spot inside him that made his headache. Well, even more than it was already.

He didn't want it, the minotaur's hands bearing down against him, powerful and driving, holding him tightly, need thrumming through with every stroke. There was a part of Rengar, even then, that had to acknowledge that there was a power in the minotaur that he admired, even if he would have rather it be him. If only to be in control, to take charge, to not be the broken husk of a Vastayan left on the ground.

There might have been a weak, spattering orgasm there, painting his crotch with his seed, but Rengar could not focus on it, yowling breathlessly, dragging his fingers against the ground, the broken stone floor. If he dug down hard enough, burrowed like a worm, maybe he could slink away to a time and a place where he no longer had to focus on his debasement, where he no longer had to be raped, had to be abused.

A hunter… He was a hunter… His vision wavered, cock harder in the aftermath of orgasm, pain aching, bones broken. They could heal…but other things would not. But he was not a hunter who could return to his old stomping grounds, not when everyone already surely knew what had befallen him. Rengar could not say how he knew that to be true, but it curled around his heart, settling there like a serpent that had taken up residence in his soul.

The drive, the stretch, the rampant power of bulging muscle behind him… The minotaur could have been admirable if not for the abuse he was dishing out, too strong for Rengar, the helpless cat twisting weakly under him, though he barely managed to roll his shoulders from side to side.

He was useless, small, weak, his hole stretched so far that he doubted that it would ever return to normal, forever leaving him with a sordid, horrifying reminder of what the minotaur had done to him. That was, if he even survived the experience. Rengar was having second thoughts about that.

He shouldn't have had it, shouldn't have climaxed, horrified by his own actions, even if he could not help it. That was the worst of it, even as he weakly tried to rake his claws across the ground, trying not to feel it, the tightness of his arse, how some of the pain softened to burning ecstasy.

That was wrong… No, he didn't want it. That was not something that he wanted to claim for his own, not in the slightest, though he didn't have the breath left in him to howl, not even whimper. He didn't want to be weak, but his cock throbbed half-hard, as if there was still something more that his body wanted to take from the moment.

Or maybe that was his mind trying to find something that he understood, something that made sense, something that could make it all, somehow, worth it in the end. One reason that a part of him, however broken and crushed, wanted to succumb to it, dropping down more and more and more.

His back tried to arch, but he was too tired to do anything else, giving in, crying out, whimpering, twisting back and forth. He barely even moved, the minotaur holding him there, dragging him back by the tail so that he could better fuck his raised arse. His shaft dribbled cum that he didn't want to admit to, his whole body shaking, quivering, his mind as torn as his body was.

One orgasm down, but the minotaur's thrusts sped up, grunting and puffing hot breath, adjusting his stance so that he crouched, one hoof flung forward so that he pounded Rengar's hole with his hoof driving down between his shoulder blades. It was only a position that could be taken on by a pairing where one was so much smaller and weaker, though Rengar had curled into himself, made himself such, his tail flopping over his back where he could no longer wriggle it, his body too weak. With his face crushed into the stone, he moaned desperately, Alistar driving in harder and faster, seeking his lust with a deep bellow.

It was with a roar that the minotaur filled him and Rengar, horrifyingly, added to the creamy spurts staining the fur of his crotch, his brutalised body forced to respond as much as it did not want to. No, no… It was not for him, no longer for him, his vision greying out at the edges, clinging to consciousness that, truly, he did not want. It was too much, his body broken, bruises sinking deep down into his soul, the minotaur's wicked dick straining his tail hole, breaking him from the inside out.

There could be no life for him there, falling, fading, drifting…

Losing consciousness, the cat slipped into darkness, falling limp, the minotaur roaring, bellowing, pounding on his chest, the champion. All while the Chem-Baron looked on, stroking his moustache, proud of his creation.

“You will do well…"

But Rengar would be tossed on the operating table.