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I mean, what else was I supposed to do? It was clean fucking water. It was hot and burned my tongue, and my cheek felt like it had been slapped by a tiny little demon, but it was delicious.
It tasted like spring and dirt and rain and everything wonderful.
Best of all, it was taking the vomit taste right out of my mouth.
I drank until my stomach swirled. I had already ruined bacon for the next century, and I really didn't want to vomit up all this wonderful water. I would like to be able to continue drinking water, especially if I could keep getting water like this.
Hands on either side of the sink, I sucked in air, staring at myself in a mirror for the first time since I had been kicked out of my apartment. Sure, I had a cracked rear view mirror in my car, but that was nothing compared to this.
Now I saw myself in all my ‘owned by Synians’ glory.
My hair was in tangles, my cheeks flushed and hollow from vomiting. My hairless cooch looked so foreign, the swollen lips of my pussy clearly visible between my legs.
That wasn’t what was making my heart speed up though.
Their bites had left more than the imprint of their teeth.
I had been branded.
Two marks stood out on my neck in brilliant white right where Garret and Parris had bitten me. I could see the marks of their fangs, but right above them were two shapes, the skin raised and swollen as if the shapes had been burned in.
A crescent moon was right above Parris’s bite and what looked like either a flame or a vagina above Garret’s. I really hoped it was a flame, I would hate to walk around with a brand of a vag on my neck. Not that I had a choice, anymore. They could tattoo the words ‘vagina monster’ over my boobs and there was nothing I could do about it.
I knew what they were: the marks of their clans.
I knew it, but seeing it drove it home like a stake to my heart. I was their property.
My wrist was the same. I stared at them in horror, the bite marks and then the raised brand of a knife.
Everywhere I went now people would know what I was. And who owned me. There would never be a question.
This was so much more than the usual marking of an Alpha to his Omega, and oh my Fae was it making my nether regions erupt in flames.
Which was also twisting my stomach.
I was going to puke again. I opened up the cabinet behind the mirror, desperately in need of Tums, a toothbrush or Pepto Bismol. I didn’t find any of that.
What I did find, however...
“Dildos.” It was a wall of fucking dildos. Well, damn dildos, clearly they were made for fucking…
I had just drank a gallon of water, and suddenly my mouth had gone dry.
I had my own collection of dildos at home. But they were shit compared to this. These made my dildos look like I had been fucking myself with shittily made straws.
There were at least twenty, in every shape, size and color. Lined up above the dildos were butt plugs in different widths, sizes, and textures. And in the bottom corner a clear plastic bottle with a small hose attached to the top.
I knew I should be more horrified about the array of butt plugs, or even a bit concerned about what a water bottle with a tube would be used for, but I couldn’t look away from the dildos.
There was a yellow one that was long and curved, a pink one that was wide and straight, one that had a cord that led to a remote with five buttons.
Every shape, every size, every length.
But it was the one in the center I was staring at. That one made my core clench down and what was left of the moisture in my mouth disappear, leaving it as dry as the Sahara desert.
It had a knot.
Like a real knot. It had clearly been molded from an actual knot. Again, why had I thought my dildos at home were anywhere close to accurate? This beautiful thing was a monster.
