Satisfy

The Hungry Mouth

"Greed is a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction." 
-Eric Fromm

~*~

The tune of La Sacre du Printemps lulled its way through the small cell, as soft and easy as a warm spring wind. The cell itself was more of a metal shoebox than anything, but the fact that she had it all to herself made it seem a lot better than sharing a larger space with some uncultured little bastard who would flaunt themselves in her face with their disgusting swinish eyes. Foolish little omegas shaking their hips and bending over, subpar slick coating their thighs as they taunted her with their disgusting ways. Or perhaps even a beta, smug and smelling of linens, trying to attract her attention with some hope that the lack of an omega would force her to bond with a beta. Indeed, Kazusa thought as she bent her leg up to examine a toenail, in this instance, it was much better to be alone.
Little to no light ever entered her little cell, so when a flood of bright neon white lights came through the once locked and barricaded door she squinted, black eyes narrowing in the harsh light. In the doorway a police officer stood like a looming shadow, big and distinctly male. His alpha musk was strong, he was clearly overproducing on purpose in an attempt to get her to submit. Too bad she was an alpha too. Kazusa sighed to herself. They didn't send omegas to her anymore.

"Prisoner 4121," he began in a surprisingly high voice. "You're coming with me."

Flopping down on her bed, which was more like a flat strip of metal with a scrap of cloth, Kazusa tilted her head up to view the officer and considered.
To go or not to go? That is the question...
Sure, the dude was huge, and he had demanded her to come along, but at the end of the day Kazusa knew that if she really felt like it, she wouldn't have to go. That, and the police force would be down one more officer. Said man blinked dumbly, as uncertain of what he should do now that a prisoner was showing some disrespect.
Kazusa took a deep breath as the music changed to Nocturne No. 2 in E flat and let the air rush out of her lungs with a sigh. The officer was drenched in nervous sweat, the soaked collar and armpits of his uniform plastered to his body. Ugh.
She was bored. Bored of books and music and whatever else this facility could come up with that would supposedly "tame the savage beast". She wanted to kill again. To feel the warmth and blood of an omega fall on her skin again. To feast on slick, to glut herself on those squeals of pleasure again. To lift her head beneath the light of the moon and watch the blood turn black and she elevated carbon-based life forms into art. But for now? A walk would suffice.

Rolling off the bed she stood up and smiled to herself as the officer realized that she towered over him. Standing and six feet and four inches, her long wine red hair fell down her back in a messy tumble to brush the bottom of her ribs as she strode forward expectantly, waiting for the door to open. The officer recovered from his earlier shock and shook his head.
"You know the drill, turn around and put your hands behind your back." He drew a pair of handcuffs out as she did so, and even though the both of them knew that this procedure was useless for someone like her, it might have made him feel a little better as he snapped the handcuffs over her wrists. She chuckled, and the officer shuddered.

"D'aww," she said, her voice dark and deep and hoarse. "Are you scared?
Don't worry, you're really not my type."

The officer scowled and bit his tongue, and his obvious frustration gave Kazusa reason to laugh again. It was clear that the man had been warned to not loose his temper, or to try and assert dominance, and the look on his face as he tried not to do so was hilarious.
Standing up and beginning the long walk out of the cell and down the hallway, Kazusa took deep breaths of cold air as the duo exited this cell block. Cold metal gave it a sharp tang, and the sweat of the man behind her burnt her nose, but farther away was a very nice, warm scent...
The guard behind her nudged her back to get her to walk faster, and before her unnaturally good sense of smell could pick up the scent she lost her focus. Now throughly unamused and fed-up with this pompous jackass, she jerked forwards with a few too-fast steps, throwing the man off balance before steadying herself into a brisk pace.
By the time they reached their destination, whatever this white room was meant to be, the heavyset man was out of breath and Kazusa had a look of vindictive glee on her slender face.
A tall, very thin figure with a sharp, pale face stepped into the room, the black of his suit a sharp contrast to the light walls. His hair was a deep grey, slicked with gel. He looked at her and smiled.
Kazusa remembered reading once that monkeys, for all their similarities to humans, would only smile to show their teeth in a display of dominance. This man's smile reminded her of that. He was an animal in a tailored suit.
"Kazusa, was it?" In a voice that was like whispering water over stones, he directed her to one of the chairs in the room. The only chair in the room, in fact.
She sat, and when more restraints were placed on her legs, torso, and arms, she did not resist. The black of the leather bindings made the orange of her prison jumpsuit stand out starkly on her deathly pale skin. The man tipped his head.