Forced Bi Slave Novels & Stories

No one wanted to waste time on me when they could torment me instead. I was the pack slave, their living punching bag — kept alive only to be broken, used, and discarded at their whim. At times, while others rested, I was forced to labor endlessly, tending to their every whim despite the pain that tore through my body. On worse days, their frustration exploded through brutal violence. And yet, I kept moving — numb, untouchable. My body endured painful testosterone shots, a cruel disguise to fool the pack into believing I was merely a human transgender slave.

Before Rodrigo could react, the bigger man swung a punch at him and he staggered trying to regain his stance. "Rodrigo!” I shouted as tears fell down my eyes. " Please stop!” They didn't listen, the man swung his fist again, harder this time and Rodrigo fell to the floor. Already he was weak from all the beatings. He was lying unconscious beside me and the man chained him to my chair. As if that wasn't enough. He brought out a tape and started wrapping it around me with the chair and bomb like they were making sure I die tonight. I was too weak to even fight. The thought of Rodrigo dying with me was painful and then Antonio. I shut my mind not wanting to think of him. That thought would be t

“What? Rebecca Torry? Really? Say he had to cheat on you, how could he stoop so low? I'm beyond disappointed. So are you mad that he cheated on you or you’re mad because it’s Rebecca? Anyways I’m mad because he cheated on you with Rebecca“ “Both Nessa how can you even ask that? Anyway, then I came back home to receive shocking news that we were broke and some bank agents even came around. The solution to this is to marry me off.” “Impossible. They still do this in the 21st century?” “Tell me about it.” “What's your plan? Go through with the arrangement? Who are you even wedding in the first place ?” “Nessa I don't even know. I've never met the guy. “

Sir, I thought you weren't coming until the second week of this month," said number 2, his tone surprised and nervous. The blond man, who I had discovered was another villain, held out his hand to me. But I refused. "Would you rather stay on the floor?" he asked. Undeterred, I grabbed his hand and was pulled up. He looked at me sinuously. "Why does she have those red marks on her arms?" the blond man asked. "She's rebellious, sir, we had to use force," said number 2. The blond looked at me again, conveying intensity. "Why are your arms red?"

he all but spat, the contempt in his voice plain. “People like me?!” I shot back, my voice rising in fury. “Do you mean the women who were forced into lives of servitude as soon as someone saw the colors of their eyes?! The women who were forced to perform their abilities like monkeys for their masters?! The women who were bought and sold like livestock?! The women who would rather end their own lives than live a life of slavery?!” I was furious. Simon scoffed, but I wasn't done yet.

James grasped onto that like it was his lifeline. "Anne, I have wronged you. Please forgive me for the sake of our bond. I really love you. I'll treat you well from now on." The medium interrupted him. "I can sense that the bond originated from your pleading too. In your past life, you begged for her to give you another chance as well. You have bound her to you for two lives." That meant that in our past lives, James had also begged for a second chance as he was doing so right now.

“Don’t call me that.” “Why not?” She lifts her chin, daring me to explain. “Because we’re married, and I’m not your master. Unless that’s the kind of kink you’re into.” I smirk, imagining her beneath me, breathless, begging for more. The thought sends a rush of heat through me. “This isn’t a marriage. I was forced into this, just like people are forced into slavery,” she snaps. “So, yes, it’s fitting to call you sir, isn’t it?”

But for Kylie Santos, it felt like the start of a lifelong prison sentence. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, as bloodless and unyielding as the person himself. “You will marry his oldest son, Lysander. It’s the best way to ensure our own family’s survival.” The weight of his phrases had shattered her world, leaving her no choice but to comply.

“I thought I would have to sit here listening to you all mope about your poor husband for another hour before you figured it out.” Viktor moves so fast I barely see him, his hand closing around her throat and slamming her back against the wall. She does not even flinch. She just laughs, a low, bitter sound that makes my skin crawl. “Allegra really thought I was a helpless little baby locked in a cell all those years, did she?” She tilts her head, the scar on her eyebrow pulling when she smiles. “I was helping them plan operations before I turned twelve. They did not kidnap me. My mother gave me to them. She thought I was too soft, too weak to ever be part of the family business. The Tribunal

I couldn’t move. Oh, God. No. No. No. I fought like hell, kicking and clawing at whatever part of him I could reach. My nails scraped against skin, and I felt him flinch, but his grip didn’t loosen. His rough voice hissed in my ear, “Stop fighting, or I’ll make it worse for you.” My blood ran cold. I knew what this was. Rape wasn’t uncommon for slaves, and this man clearly didn’t realize who I was. Or maybe he didn’t care.