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Abusing the Vastayan

Part One

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Adagiodajiang

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Part one of three.

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Rengar exhaled, one of the Vastaya with great, hulking shoulders, his fur thick and bristling. Although he was clothed in light armour, he could have gone without the leather and metal plates covering his most vulnerable areas, but he preferred some covering when it came to hunting. It was what was most comfortable for him, though the rush of his thick mane flowed back from his muzzle, blending into the form of it as if he was wearing a headdress.

Although his mane was braided and adorned with artefacts of his kind, Rengar was his own creature too, feline in presentation, though he would never have wanted to be called such. To be called a “cat" was an insult to Rengar, of the highest order, his single eye narrowing, for the other was blind, only the muscles around it pulling in expression, where he could not see from it.

Tall, bulky and powerful, there was little about him that should have ever made anyone think that they could easily take him on, moving through the thick jungle with such ease and finesse that it was quite as if he was a part of it. He knew the land, the jungle of Ixtal, though he had expected to see the hide of his prey sooner than it had, so far, come to pass.

A razorhide. A giant, four-legged beast clad in scales that would take a skilled hunter to penetrate with any blade. He hunkered down, scenting lightly, his lips parted so that he could allow the scents to cling to his nose where a little moisture remained, bearing feline-like nostrils, the slits sensitive. It was what he needed, kneeling in the moist earth near the river, mud squishing under his boots and knee. Yet the print was still there, in the ground, the claws of the beast sinking deeper.

But that wasn't right… His eyes narrowed, the Vastayan quiet, a low growl threatening to rise from the back of his throat. The razorhide should not have crossed the river, the rush of water, without due reason, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, hackles wanting to rise. Yet Rengar had more self-control than that, of course.

At least, he thought he did. In the end, he was just an animal though, like so many others in the world. He was unable to deny that, dipping his fingers into the water, contemplating his next action.

The jungle… Rengar swallowed, quiet, listening, ears twitching back and forth within the thickness of his mane, the hair that warmed and dissipated heat from around his head and neck. Was it too quiet? It had been a while since he had been in that part of the jungle, the air thick and humid, clinging to him while he took in his environment.

He didn't like that quiet. He didn't like how the screeches of birds and mammals in the canopy had fallen away, how there were no longer even any larger, grazing animals moving through the dense forest. The vines hung still, a snake curled into the crook of a tree, pretending to be one the vines, even his tongue tucked away, camouflaged with the forest.

No… Whatever was going on with the jungle that day, he would find it all out in due course. It was safer, at least for him, to head back to his camp for the time being, to regroup and settle himself, to work out what was wrong in the jungle. Only then could he continue and find the razorhide that he sought. It was not as if he could pick up footprints, after all, from the riverbed. The scent would still be there afterwards and a razorhide always left evidence of their passing.

Rengar turned slowly, moving without a sound – yet the snap of a branch breaking had him roaring into action. He leapt without thinking, his body reacting instinctively, yet there was only so much that the Vastayan could do, despite his muscle bulk, the mass of him moving with shocking agility.

He saw it as if in slow-motion, the world around him slowing with the pump of adrenaline through his veins, a snarl on his lips, pulling back from his teeth. Rengar howled, a mechanical arm slicing through the air where he had been a moment before, cracking through branches, knocking down a tree, crushing the undergrowth as if it was beyond even the might of the jungle.

“Stand down, Vastayan!"

He landed with a growl, eyes darting, yet his opponent was clear as he stood tall again, mud on his knees, his hands, fury righteous in his chest. For one of those blasted robots, powered by alchemy, trundled with loud, grating steps from the undergrowth. He cursed under his breath, the need for silence and secrecy gone from him, twisting his hips, tail lashing the air. The robot stood tall, polished and gleaming, a dome covering the top, though he could not see who was piloting it.

There were weak spots there… Rengar's eyes gleamed. He only had to know just how to exploit them. And they were not the sort of weapons, however they were piloted, that updated their alchemy all that often, least of all how they were constructed. But that was partly due to the strength in them too, of course, which he had to bear in mind too…

Rengar's stomach twisted. If only he had paid more attention to the lack of birdsong and sentient animal life in the jungle earlier… Yet the battle was not yet lost and neither was it won.

There was no time for thoughts like that, however, as he growled, lips quivering, showing the fury of a Vastayan, hide bristling. Rengar backed off, his legs bent, every muscle in his body tensed for action.

Light glanced off the pilot's dome, though Rengar tried not to show that he was struggling to see who was inside. He thought it was a human. Disgusting. There was no love lost between humans and Vastayans and that was not something that was at all likely to change unless relations improved drastically.

That was not for Rengar to concern himself with, snarling, the human within sending their voice out through the built-in speaker system.

“Vastayan! Your time roaming free has come to an end. Your capture is imminent."

Rengar would have rolled his eyes if it was not such a dire situation. As if he could be captured… Humans were so grandiose, pushing things so far, acting as if they were better than every other species in the world. There was no need for such language, using it as if they were the only ones that came with a lexicon and a tongue that could be wrapped around it.

Yet that was not the time for thoughts against the humans, not by far. The robot raised its arms, light glancing off the dome under which the human was hidden, his boots digging into the dirt as he yowled and snarled, showing his teeth. It was a feral move, a raw move, but one that came so instinctively that Rengar did not even know he was doing it. Likely, that show of instinct was one of many reasons that humans looked down on his kind.

But he wasn't going to go down without a fight – he wasn't going to go down at all! Rengar yowled and leapt, his bulk sailing through the air as if he was much lighter than he was, the blade of his hand and a half knife flashing, light glinting off it. It had been a while since his blade had tasted blood, yet Rengar was confident in its sharpness, instinct taking over, his muscles and his body well-honed from years upon years of hunting, of fighting. His years of formal battle training were long behind him, but the muscle memory remained deep inside him.

The clang of his knife striking the robot rang out, the robot clanking and grinding under him, though its limbs moved with frightening speed – that was if Rengar even though he could be scared. He was fearless, snarling, lips peeling back from his teeth, clinging to the “neck" of the robot, humanoid in shape with four mechanical limbs.

Yet his knife would not penetrate it! It merely bounced off as he swung to the back of the robot, hunting for the bottles where the alchemy was stored, though that was most likely right in the centre where his blade could not so easily reach. Curses. The humans had thought ahead, though he would have to be smarter than him.

Brute force, however, was not Rengar's friend in that regard, as easily as he scaled the twenty-foot-tall robot, estimating the height, calculating everything as if he had all the time in the world. It was funny how adrenaline slowed down time like that, his heart pounding, pumping blood around his body, his muscles aching, though any strain in them would have to wait for another time to be rested and soothed. Fighting for his life, his wellbeing on the line, was more important than taking any kind of break or even turning to flee.

Rengar hissed. He never fled. Yet that was one thing that could very well have contributed to his downfall.

He hacked and slashed, using his claws too, though he did not succumb to using his teeth, blades clanging and bouncing off the metal. He could not find the weak spot, not as the robot spun and twisted, dangling him off one of its arms like a trophy, clinging and scrambling to stay up on it. If he hit the ground again without his own will, there was no telling whether he would ever get up again.

Curse the humans!

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He would not go down! Striking with his blade, he dug it into the gap between two plates of metal, hoping against hope that it was right, but he had to try, had to dig down, had to do something to make himself feel like he was doing the right thing, that he had a chance of winning. If Rengar did not believe that, well…he would have already lost the battle.

Down and down, the blade stuck, jammed in tight. He wrenched it brutally to the side, heaving, grunting, panting, lips pulling back from his teeth in a fierce snarl, tail lashing the air. The plates parted with an almighty grind and scrape – yet the human piloting the robot had other ideas in mind.

“Cat, did you really think you could defeat one of our robots? That is almost laughable!"

One moment he was on the robot's back and the next he was flying through the air, shrieking, a feral yowl breaking his lips a moment before the robot's arm snatched him up, clutched in a rudimentary “hand" of sorts. As much as Rengar clawed and struck, beating at it with the blade he still held, reaching for his other weapons, the robot had him right where the human wanted him.

It was a strange feeling for the Vastayan to feel helpless, weightless, as if he was as weak as a kitten before their mother, mewling for their milk. His legs dangled even as he kicked out, snarling, the robot's hands closing around him, one on either side, holding his arms to his body and rendering him neatly and cleanly incapacitated.

Ferally, he bared his teeth, the pink of his tongue fluttering within, between the lines of his bottom teeth.

“Release me, you fool! We have no business together here nor any grievance!"

The dome at the head of the robot slid back, the human stepping forth with a sick grin on their lips, hair cropped close to their skull. Dressed lightly in cloth, the human did not have any armour at all, though his eyes were narrow and set a little too close together for comfort, Rengar snarling, challenging him without even using any words at all.

“Little kitten… So much for you, Vastayan. Your kind thinks that they can so easily best us, that you are one with the land, that you can hold all these old territories… But that is about to change. We needed a new subject, after all, and you shall be ideal."

Rengar growled, throat trembling with fury. Damn him. Yet the hands of the mechanical robot were not as tight as he had imagined, allowing him to wriggle and squirm, dropping a weapon. That was a small price to pay, however, for his freedom, dropping bodily, using his weight to drag him down, fur scraping and pulling out – though he was free! He swung off the robot's arm even as the human let out a strangled cry, something of distress. Rengar did not care enough to look up at him beyond to note his location, standing with one foot up where the dome had connected with the robot before sliding back to allow the human to exit.

He roared as the man screamed for help, but the Vastayan was too swift for him, lunging, his greater agility allowing him to cross the distance in a flash, one foot down on the seat within the dome, the pilot's cockpit so to speak and his arms around the human.

“Don't move."

His blade pressed to the man's throat, his pulse leaping and bounding, Rengar's chest surging. Yes… Yes. That was a much better position to be in, the tables having turned, put back in the position on top that benefitted him.

The hunter snarled, digging the blade in a little harder, a bead of blood flowing. The man wheezed.

“Heh…help…"

Rengar chuckled.

“No one is coming for you, boy," he mocked, holding him by the collar, drawing his blade back as if he was about to plunge it through the man's heart. “Now… Say your last."

Yet he had not realised that more robots were lurking in wait, the first he knew of them was the mechanical hand that grabbed him around the waist and hurled him into the air, a drop of blood on the man's neck but no more. He yowled a Vastayan's yowl, clawing, his blade falling, yet he was dangled upside-down by both legs, waving back and forth, swinging wildly.

“Release me, you curs!"

Yet they all closed in around him as if they had been waiting all along for him to simply make the wrong move, the Vastayan swinging, clawing at the robotic arm that held him, even if there was a part of him too that knew it was hopeless. He could not simply give up, however, not when his very life was on the line.

“Release me! I'll strip you all out and rip out your guts, string them up for the carrion birds to feast on!"

Snarling, he showed his teeth, eyes practically flashing with fury, tail swinging back and forth, heaving and grunting, though his chest had to shudder and draw breath at some point. One by one, the humans emerged from the cockpits, four robots there in total, checking on the one that had almost had his throat slit, though Rengar did not care for any of their niceties, human words exchanged that passed over his head.

“Afternoon, Samuel. Having some trouble there?"

“Lucky we were around. Everything all right with you?"

“You're always getting yourself into such a pickle…"

“Let me go! I'll cut you all up and feed you to the crocodiles!" Rengar howled, increasingly infuriated as he helplessly swung back and forth, fury coursing through him with every breath and every pound of his heart. “You fiends! Curs! Brutes! You attacked me – face me like a Vastayan! Like someone with an ounce of honour left in them!"

They laughed, turning their attention to him.

“Kitten, perhaps you should keep your mouth shut. Everything you have is on show there."

Much to his shame, Rengar had not realised that his armour had flipped up over his hips, revealing his crotch and his furry buttocks, no matter how quickly he clamped his tail down. It took a lot of effort to keep his tail in such a position, wanting to claw and swing, to try to dig his fingers into something to get himself back upright, somehow, even if it was, ultimately, a futile effort.

The embarrassment of it throbbed through him, wanting to curse, to spit insults, yet not to have any attention drawn to himself too. His soft shaft was on show, flopping about with his furry balls behind, showing everything that he had, with nothing to hide it. Surely too they had gotten a good glance at the pucker of his tail hole too before he'd realised what was happening, further enhancing his debasement.

He roared, trembling with fury, though they paid him no mind, the little “kitten" to them not worth their primary attention.

“So…" One man nodded to Rengar, his nose and lips twisting in a wrinkle of distaste. “What are you planning to do with this one?"

The man who had captured him initially, his throat red where the blade had pressed in, shrugged.

“It was the mission. I don't know what they plan to do with him after this."

Rengar snarled, furiously showing his teeth, lips pulling back, holding the ferocity.

“Aw, look at him."

They mocked, standing on the arms of the robot as they pointed and jeered, finding no threat in the Vastayan who had been rendered helpless by the might of their alchemy.

“Look, the kitty thought that he could be so fierce! Why don't you cry again, little kitty? You think that puny roar is going to do anything at all against us? Hm?"

Rengar hissed and clenched his jaw, fury jumping in the muscle at the corner of his jaw. Brutes! They didn't know what they were talking about!

“He's only a beast, he probably doesn't even know what you're saying," they went on, pointing at him, lip twitching in a sneering jeer. “No underwear… How sad. Are all your kind this primal, Vastayan? Do they all go around with their balls hanging out? Maybe you could be more civilised if you hung around humans some. Not so…so…primitive."

Someone prodded him with a toe, where his legs stuck out vertically between the tighter grasp of the robot's hands. He snarled, yet could do nothing to stop them.

“Beast, do you understand us?" The man probed. “Our speech? Are you intelligent?"

“Stavros, you know an animal like that won't respond to you, give it up."

Rengar snarled.

“Only for the convenience of hunting you – outsiders!" Rengar growled in a coarse, crude tongue, using the human's language. “Your language is crude… Release me if you have the intelligence to understand!"

That only made them laugh all the harder, teetering precariously atop their robots, slapping their thighs.

“Ohhhh, our kitty is angry, so angry!" They guffawed, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. “He's probably in heat… That can happen to wild cats, right?"

“Mm," another agreed, nodding as if he was an expert on the matter, even though he didn't know anything about the Vastaya species at all. “You have to remember that these cats are nothing more than dumb beasts, don't be fooled by him mimicking our tongue. They go into heat and then they are nothing more than savage brutes, forced to breed, mindless with lust."

They laughed, Rengar swinging, wishing that he could cover himself up, sickening fury twisting through him. Was it all just a game to them? Something that they could toss back and forth and act like there was no big meaning behind any of it? They were humans, yes, but the Vastayan had never thought that they would be quite that callous, not having been near them for a long time. After his experience there, at their hands, the Vastayan had no desire to see that happen again for a good long time either.

Yet that was out of his control as they made grunts and mewls like a supposed cat in lust – in “rut," they said, although it was not so that Vastayan even went into heat like that. He wanted to correct them, but his flailing hands were barely managing to hold his armour and clothing back up over his crotch, where gravity wanted to expose him repeatedly.

“Animals can't work out their rut on their own, they need some help if instinct does not kick in properly…"

“Maybe our Vastayan is broken."

“I am not an animal! Unhand me at once, you heathens!"

Rengar roared, though his retort lacked the bite behind his words that he wanted to be there.

There was nothing he could do, helpless and dangling, swinging and swinging, no one coming to his rescue. One of the robots, directed by its pilot, positioned its arm beside the Vastayan so that the humans could walk along it, laughing and belting out bawdiness as they, quickly and methodically, stripped him of his armour and weapons.

He mourned the loss of his blade, breath catching in his throat, even as the ties to his light armour, only covering the most vulnerable places where he was most likely to be hit in the jungle, came free, slipping from his body. It was a symbol of pride, to always hold a weapon on one's body, though the hunter did not want to seek out the truth of what it meant that his blades were no longer his to bear.

“Return them…" His breathing came raggedly, blood rushing to his head after spending so long upside-down. “Immediately… Return…my belongings…"

“Oh, the kitty thinks he can make demands. Do you think we might keep him as a pet?"

“No, it'd cost too much to feed, don't talk like that. You know they'll want to keep it."

It? A pet? Keeping…what? Him? His head spun, arms hanging, his strength leaving him, dangling in his failure, every last scrap of clothing removed from him. He could not find the strength in his arms to bring his hands up to cover himself, his genitals exposed from his member to his balls. The humiliation of having his cock out, even when there was nothing sexual about it, burned through him, cumulating in a snarl that did nothing to get the men away from him.

The proud hunter had fallen, howling, twisting, yowling with the tiniest scraps of energy left on him, plotting their downfall already. Yet the entire jungle, or so it felt to him, had witnessed his defeat, the humans ignoring him. One man grinned and pushed a lever.

“Up he goes!"

Up and up and up… He must have been too close to the ground for their liking, for their humiliation, swinging as two robots clasped him from either side, still upside-down and his head aching, his arms and legs restrained firmly by the mechanical arms. He was held as if his arms were tied to his sides, for they lay down against the length of his body, legs straight up – though that was partly due to the position of his suspension, forcing him to stretch down towards the ground.

He howled, thrashing weakly in his nakedness, yet Rengar would not stop fighting, no, not until his very last breath. What did they think they were doing to him? Vastayan would never behave in such a manner – not with a prisoner! There was no sense in what they were doing to him, parading him on display in all his nudity, even his tail snatched out of the way by a smaller, more dextrous mechanical hand that had shot out of the robot, holding it so that his anal ring was exposed.

Still, he did not know what they had in mind for him. Truly, the men may not have either. They were simply making it all up as they went along.

Embarrassment flooded him, curling into the pit of his stomach, brimming over once again in fierce, burning humiliation. His breath raked down his windpipe with every dragged draught of breath, as if he did not even deserve to breathe, his body bruised and not yet broken. Yet it felt as if it may as well have been broken for the position he was in, frozen in suspension, his body on display to the humans who wished him nothing but harm.

Every one of them, with their dark, beady eyes, represented the worst of their society, surely from Zaun. But Rengar's racing mind could not come up with anything, not yet, to get himself out of his debasing predicament.

It was too late for him anyway.

“Hey…" A woman seated on her robot with one leg bent, her arm resting on it, smirked, tilting her head. “Let's have some fun before we take him in… Help the poor, wee kitty get out of heat, hm? They must be sooooo needy. Savage brute that he is… I'd love to compare Vastayans and our strong, powerful men of Zaun. I'm sure there is no comparison… Right, boys?"

They could only agree with her, even though they had not had in mind to abuse the cat so. They'd only wanted their fun, but with their pride at stake there was little more they could do.

As he hung, helpless, something that Rengar did not know the name of emerged, slowly, from the robot, a metal panel sliding back to reveal it. He should have known, but he had not been even with his own kind for some time, his knowledge of such mechanics faulty at best. It looked, to him, like a flexible, long metal rod with a bulging, larger bit at the end that was a couple of feet long, but with no distinguishing features to it that would allow him to identify it.

His brow furrowed, whiskers quivering. The men roared while the woman looked on, a fierce glint in her eye.

And then everything changed, something hard shoving up against his backside where his anal ring was woefully exposed, catching him off guard as, without any warning, he was penetrated. There was nothing quite that could compare to the shock of being penetrated against one's will without any warning to the matter, but he howled, gasping, arching, panting. It was as if his very soul was being ripped out of his body, all that he'd held dear to himself, eyes wide and strained, barely able to come to terms with the surface level of what was happening to him.

Rape. Abuse. Debasement. In the clawing, sickening heat of the moment, it was all the same to Rengar.

The Vastayan howled, but they only laughed harder at him as his tail twitched painfully back and forth. Whatever had been used to penetrate him, a male phallus of some kind, hard and unyielding, maybe something that would have been used as a marital aid, pounded deep, not caring for his comfort. Though that was not the worst of it as he sweated profusely, clamping his jaws shut against the idea of begging for release, the rod before him opening at the tip as it pushed in closer and closer.

“Get him!"

“Yeah, let's milk the kitty!"

What? He didn't want to think about it, closing his eyes, trying to think – what could he do to escape? There had to be something, had to be a way, had to be something, anything that he could do. But there was nothing, not as the tube engaged with his cock, that could stop him from hardening within the tube, swelling into it. His shaft burned with desire, a desire that he did not want to exist at all, flesh aching desperately as if that part of his body knew what was to come.

He didn't want to, having some inkling in his mind of what the humans were doing to him, his pride fallen, drifting, fading, no longer present in himself…but he had to. His cock pushed out into the tube, the soft lining caressing it pleasantly, though Rengar did not even know whether he should still thrash or not, heaving, panting, breathing harshly through his nostrils.

Strong… Yes. He had to be strong, he had to hold out. He had to not allow a single one of the humans to know how much they had gotten to him, how they had clawed their way into his soul. His pride may have been stripped from him, put on display and humiliated as if he was nothing more than a sex toy to them, something to amuse themselves with, but he was still a hunter, a proud feline, one who would stand tall after all was done.

And when all was said and done, he would hunt down every last one of the humans and spear their heads on a pole for all to see!

That was a fallacy, however, merely something Rengar told himself to make himself feel better, his stomach churning sickeningly, the push and roll of nausea in the pit of his stomach impossible to ignore. Humiliation like that had never sunk into the marrow of his bones before, chilled as if he was turning into something else, his backside aching, pain lancing through him. He'd never done anything so depraved to himself before, but the Vastayan chanced that it would not have mattered either way, not with how crudely and rudely his body was forced to be a toy to them, to be used by them.

The toy, the pole, thrust and thrust under his tail, a dildo, a sex object – turning him into that very sex object too. He howled, twisting, wanting to hold back, his need rising.

No…

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Rengar closed his eyes, squeezing them so tightly shut that they hurt.

No… You can't…

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Yet it had to be so. For his body could not take stimulation like that, not as his backside and his cock were pleasured, as much as the pleasure was very much not wanted. He wouldn't have even wanted any of it if he'd been with a partner of his choosing, not for him, not something that Rengar would have at all enjoyed. But there was nothing the fallen hunter could do but to clench his jaw and struggle and strain, fighting the urge to cum with all his might.

The humans shouted something, tapping away at a control panel, but he couldn't have done anything about the electric shocks spearing into his dick, zapping his nuts, even if he had caught the words. He was helpless, abused, broken, weaker and weaker with every passing moment, as if he was nothing more than a beast in rut.

He yowled, the electrical stimulation painful but pleasurable at the same time, his cock harder than ever, the full length of it pushed into the tube so that nothing at all was left wanting. He wanted to cum, all so badly, as if the need was the greatest thing in his mind, something that nothing else in the whole world could match up to. He might not have been experienced in the ways of the world, but the Rengar twisted and growled, his backside feeling as if he was being stretched wider and wider. But maybe that was only his arse getting tighter, clenching around the brutal phallus with the only measure of resistance he could manage.

Electricity, vibrations, rippling pulses, even heat… The “toys," if they could even be called that, did everything, took everything from him, forcing breath from his lungs with every thrust and stroke. Rengar snarled, yet was weaker and weaker, losing a bit more of himself in every moment, dangling, hanging, as helpless as ever. Still, his balls ached, desire throbbing within, the need to cum overwhelming, his body prey to stimulation even with another body jolting shock of electricity that ripped his breath away.

“Look at his cock! I got the cameras up and running! Does that surpass your fine men of Zaun?"

Rengar didn't care who they were talking to. All he wanted was for everything to stop, even as something inside the tube moved and shifted, something in the mechanics of it drawing back. Only later would he realise how there was a camera inside the tube so that they could see his cock even as it was milked, the pulsing, rippling caresses dragging the squalling, screaming Vastayan to the edge against his will.

The dildo thrust under his tail, the proud hunter fallen, broken down into nothing. No longer did Rengar even want to fight back, for he was done with the world if that was to be his life there. Vibrations caressed his cock, stimulating him, yet it was with another sharp burst of electricity into his sensitive member and up under his tail that he climaxed with a shriek.

“Yeeeeeaaaahhhh – woooohooo! Look at him go!"

He had to cum, hanging limply, aware that he had been turned the right way up again, even though he hardly knew how he'd gotten there. It did not matter, nothing mattered, not as red-hot humiliation sank into him like a hot poker stoking a household's fire, ash chased by the flames up the chimney, never to be seen again. He climaxed hard, filling the tube, the Hextech camera observing and capturing every moment of his debasement.

He climaxed hard and fast, ropes of seed splattering into the tube, though he did not know that it was being collected, that it would be stored, laughter rolling over him. Still, his seed flowed forth, spurt after spurt, the essence of a Vastayan filling the tube, dripping and drooling, slickening up even the head of his cock.

Yet it was their laughter, his body aching deeply, that was the worst for him, upright again, though the robots had handled him so easily that it made little difference, blood rushing back to the right places of his body. His head ached, chin tipping down, barely conscious. The burn of humiliation, however, would not allow him to pass out. It needed him to be awake, embarrassed to his core, the humans free to do with him exactly as they pleased.

“What a beast! Damn, it must really have needed to get off!"

“Not better than a Zaun though," someone else commented, with an air of distaste about them."

They laughed and laughed at his humiliation, his damaged pride, what was left of the broken hunter, heaving, drooling, nothing more than a beast. The pleasure eased, yet he still felt the trembling vibrations on his cock, overstimulated, his aching length so sore that he would have wanted to be soft, to rest, if he had had the choice. Rengar should have known then that that was an omen for what was to come. A bad omen.

A dart shot into him, the potion inside making him sleepy, eyelids heavy. He could have fought it, but…where else was there for him to go?

The Vastayan groaned, falling slack, chin tipping forward in unconsciousness. Yet his debasement at the hands of the humans was not yet over.