Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The omega pet shops were where alphas went to get themselves a human pet and these shops obtained all their stock from training centers. 

At the training centers, omegas were crafted into the perfect pets, made into animals, dumb things for alphas to play with and boast about owning.

When Lazoen got dragged off to the training center, he was already hopeless about his fate.

Bad things happened at the training centers. Amputation, vocal modification, abnormal aesthetic changes, brainwashing. Had seen the results for himself as omegas left pet shops on the leashes of Alphas with the look of nothing but a desire to please on their faces.  

The omegas were dumbed down so much that the poor things were happy in their state. It was horrid. And yet, Lazoen would rather suffer his fate in dumb ignorance than be cognizant of the humiliation he was about to suffer. 

There was no rhyme or reason to the pet type each omega was assigned. It was as random as the genetics that made him omega instead of alpha. Up to chance, up to fate, up to whatever deity had consistently dealt him a shitty hand of cards. 

It wouldn't be so bad, he thought, if he got to be something sexy like a cat or a dog. 

But the center decided that they were going to turn him into a pig. He hadn't even known that was an option. 

It didn't matter what he did or didn't know. Two hooks were pushed into his nose and pulled back, held in place with straps around his head, distorting his face into something hideous. His nose was pulled up so much that his top lip lifted, showing his front teeth. 

With such a simple tool, he already felt dehumanized. 

Who would want a pig? An omega pig? 

He thought of speaking but the shame of the nose hook kept him silent. 

The trainer in charge of him was a very handsome alpha, drenched in enough pheromones to keep omegas like Lazoen needy and leaky and obedient. 

And it was working already. Lazoen felt a haze settle over him that rid him of his inhibitions, made his thoughts pliable and made him too eager for touch. 

"C'mon piggy," the alpha trainer laughed, tugging Lazoen into his new quarters. 

The room had a floor that was covered in hay. There was a feeding trough on one side and Lazoen ate out of it with his hands - something he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to do after a while.

One side of the room was made entirely of one-way glass. Whoever was outside, could see in. But Lazoen could only see his reflection - his already unrecognizable reflection. 

________

The first injection made his chest expand into two jelly-like mounds. His nipples poked out more prominently, and they tingled strangely as they grew, inclining him to grope at them. 

The alpha trainer chuckled when he saw Lazoen rubbing at his breasts.

"Touch them while you can piggy," he said, giving Lazoen's nipples a harsh pinch and pull. "Feels good dunnit?" 

Lazoen was speechless at the sensation. It rocked his body and made him needier than he'd ever been in his life as an omega. 

Slick poured out of him like an induced heat but it was just his new sensitive tits, doing what they were supposed to do, making him succumb to his own hormones and arousal. 

He didn't know how long he spent writhing on the floor of his pen, pulling at his new tits, tugging at them and yanking his cock and cumming all over the hay. It felt like days. 

It wasn't as exhausting as his days in heat, but the pleasure was addictive and as soon as he came down from his orgasm, his nipples tingled again and all he wanted was to touch them and make them. 

When the Alpha trainer eventually came to fetch him, Lazoen was dehydrated and the trainer petted him so gently that it could be misconstrued as kindness, before offering him a drink of water. 

Next, the Alpha explained, it was time to get his little cocklet under control. This was done by fitting a catheter into his piss hole and then locking on a cage around it.

He'd never had his private parts under someone else's control and it was oddly exhilarating. He inspected the cage curiously. 

It went from intriguing to frustrating very quickly when his cock tried to harden but couldn't. It was suffocating and unpleasant and he wanted it off, wanted to cum, wanted to rub at his nipples and ride another colossal was of pleasure. 

Instead, he fought angrily the piece of metal locked on his cock. Pulling at it which in turn pulled on his balls sorely. 

"It's not gonna come off like that," the alpha trainer said unhelpfully and a little smugly. 

He didn't have to endure the cock cage for long because that very same day, the real transformation happened. 

The one that horrified him at the mere thought, while at the same time, arousing him. His dumb omega genes made him excited at the prospect of being modified to please an alpha. 

Of being degraded to nothing but an object for sex. Someone would want to own him and that pleased his inner omega greatly. 

It was fucked up how okay he was with what was about to happen. 

________

He woke up on the floor of his pen, cushioned by warm, if slightly scratchy, blankets. 

His trainer was there when he blinked awake, petting his hair softly and offering small reassurances about how everything was okay. 

When Lazoen was ready, he helped him up onto all fours.

Lazoen was much closer to the ground than he expected. Things weren't right. 

He was still drowsy as he tried to take inventory of his body and limbs. 

He tried to speak and words came out, for which he was grateful. His throat was fine if maybe a bit parched. 

But his legs. They weren't there. Neither were his arms. He felt oddly stump-like and helpless. At the same time, he was a ghost, limbless and trapped.

The trainer, who looked far taller than usual, stepped aside and Lazoen saw his reflection in the glass wall. 

His appearance horrified him and amazed him. In the same moment, shameful arousal bubbled beneath the surface of his feelings, horrifying him even more. 

He was so terribly transformed that there was no question what he was for now. He was for sex, made for fucking and nothing else, made for an Alpha's entertainment and fun. 

His arms ended at the elbows, his legs above the knee, leaving him on short little pig legs. They were capped with something black, to pad his walking. 

"Wh- how did they-" he croaked out with a voice still raspy from sleep and anesthesia. 

Between his arm stumps, he could feel his newly engorged tits weighing him down. His ass was so much more prominent in this position, so unprotected.

He realized, while his trainer gloated and praised him for being a pretty piglet, that he had trotters. He was still adjusting to his new body when the alpha trainer pushed a headband with little pink triangle ears onto Lazoen's head.

He shook his head side to side furiously, but the headband remained in place. It was humiliating in a new way, not being able to remove such a clear label of what he was was now. 

He hadn't yet accepted his status as omega pig but there was no fighting it now. That's what he was now. Forever.

"Are you wet for me little piggy? Turn around, show me your hole."

The alpha trainer did this all the time. When Lazoen complied, the alpha would stick two fingers inside his dripping omega hole and wiggle them around. He would then pull his fingers out, dry them on his pants, and leave.

But not this time. This time he held up a curly pink tail, attached to a plug. 

Lazoen's little legs merely slid across the floor as he scrambled to get away but the Alpha easily held him back by the collar around his neck.

By this time he was so wet that the tail plug slid right in. It stuck up in the air and wiggled around with every small movement. His omega body naturally reacted to the feeling of something in his hole by growing wetter and yearning for a knot through strange convulsions in his anus. 

Convulsions that made the tail wiggle more, and made the Alpha chuckle. 

The cock cage was gone, but Lazoen realized that there wasn't a way for him to touch himself there. He couldn't even bend his four stumpy legs to get his cock against the ground. 

He couldn't grind, couldn't cum like that at all. 

It was a system designed to torture, to keep him yearning and aroused and ready. 

_______

Once, Lazoen made the mistake of rolling onto his back with his dumb pig legs were waving in the air. He felt vulnerable but he couldn't get himself back the right way up. 

"Alpha!" He called out frantically until his trainer arrived to help. 

The alpha laughed at the sight of him. "It happens. You'll figure it out eventually, don't worry piggy." 

The trainer came over to fondle his tits, squeezing them roughly and pinching at his nipples until he let out an embarrassing squeal. 

"Ah stop stop Sir!" He pleaded. The arousal was too much, made him need to cum more than ever. And it hurt, delightfully so. 

The trainer kept groping at the tender nipples, rubbing them roughly.

"Do you want my help, piggy, or would you prefer to figure it out for yourself?" 

"Umggf help! Please!" He squirmed, trying to wriggle away from the trainer's hands. 

"Dear oh dear," the trainer shook his head. "These little nips just won't do. We'll need to inflate them." 

Lazoen was squirming too much to protest with words, but he heard the Alpha and did his best on his back to get away.

"They'll stick out like candles on a cake and be so fucking sensitive for your owner to enjoy and clamp. And maybe they'll be used for feeding." 

"Wh-' 

Lazoen could only gasp as the trainer continued to twist and rub and pull. 

"Maybe your alpha will marry you off to a lovely hairy boar. Won't that be nice? To be fucked all day by a pig just like you?" 

Lazoen shook his head no but the trainer was already attaching two nipple suckers to his tits. 

It felt like his nipples were being pulled off his chest but it also hurt so good that he felt like an orgasm was building from his tits. It was a strange feeling, making him writhe and spasm while the trailer's hands were no longer on him. 

The alpha smiled. "Ah, you like it. At this rate you'll be a prized piggy in no time." 

He patted the omega's cocklet and Lazoen cried out. "Alpha Alpha please!" 

"Sorry my little piglet but I can't help you with that. Just think about the Alpha that will fuck you and breed you and make you their pretty piggy bride in the future." 

When the trainer removed the suckers, Lazoen screamed as his ass leaked a puddle of slick beneath him, wetting the hay. 

"Excellent. Those nipples are now twice the size and thickness and I think I can make them bigger with a little more effort. "

Lazoen was distracted from every word and every other feeling, by the extreme sensitivity of his tits. 

"But let's get you back on your feet for now hm?" The trainer said. 

Lazoen was almost grateful as the trainer picked him up and put him back down the right way up. 

But then he felt a mind-numbing pain as the Alpha clamped two small weights to each of his dangling tits. They hung there, pulling his nipples towards the ground and there was nothing he could do to get them off. 

He was afraid to move for how they pulled when they dangled. All thoughts had left his brain and for a moment, he was dumb as an animal, looking up at the Alpha with self-pity, feeling sorry for his state and pleading with his eyes for the clamps to be taken off. 

But alphas didn't listen to animals.

It was good that he understood that early because the next thing to go were his words. Not all the time, but frequently, he was gagged with a kind of bar, or a bit like a horse would have. It meant that he drooled a lot and the sides of his mouth ached at the end of the day, but at least it gave him something to think about other than his incessant need for an Alpha to fuck him. 

The gag was removed for meals, but only if he agreed not to speak. Speaking meant the end of mealtime. 

"Oh no. Is my little piglet too short to reach the trough? Do we need to get you a step ladder piggy?" 

Lazoen wished his brain wasn't working perfectly fine because this was more humiliation than he could take. 

The water was fed to him through a bottle. Just as well, it was the only way he could imagine getting enough to drink. 

The trainer held the bottle out, tilted downward at a slight angle and Lazoen latched on and suckled. 

He grew to enjoy the petting that came with it. His constant state of arousal meant that he appreciated and cherished any attention that the Alpha gave him. It became the highlight of his day. 

Pretty soon, the day arrived when he was to be taken to the pet shop to eventually be sold to an Alpha. 

A leash was clipped onto his collar. His trotters didn't let him resist and he was pulled away easily on his short legs. 

Wait. Wait why wasn't he dumb yet? Why was he still thinking fine? This wasn't how it was supposed to be! He felt like himself, except grotesquely not.

"I'll miss you piglet," the trainer said, cupping Lazoen's face, kissing his nose and then smacking him on the bum.

"Aren't I supposed to b-be brainwashed or something?" 

A familiar ball gag was strapped into his mouth and he squealed angrily around it.  

"Don't worry my piglet, we make sure you leave just as dumb as you came in." 

As he was led out of the center on a leash, he passed by the cat omegas, the puppy omegas, the bunny omegas and even a cow omega. All modified in their own ways. 

But they still stared at him as he passed them.

________

The alpha had his newly purchased omega, tucked under one arm. 

Pressed against his side, Lazoen could feel the Alpha's strong body, could smell his masculine scent. He could only wonder how big the alpha's cock was and wonder why on earth the Alpha would choose him out of all the other omega pets. 

"My boars are going to love you, piggy," the alpha said as he lowered his newly purchased omega into a crate on the back of his pick-up truck. 

He bought Lazoen for his pigs? Boars? Big hideous things with wet snouts and coarse hair and beady eyes and monstrous cocks? 

Lazoen would be pretty, compared to them and that was really saying something considering his pig-like appearance. The Alpha seemed to concur, showering him with praises about how much they would love him, how pretty he would be for them, how much they'd love his piggy tits and his leaky hole and his adorable piggy face all squished.

"You'll sleep in the barn with the rest of the hogs at night. During the day you're free to roam wherever you want."

Free. 

To roam.

Somehow, frolicking with the hogs in the fields didn't sound appealing at all. It sounded mortifying. They were going to chase him down immediately and try to impregnate him and he had no way to resist.

He immediately thrashed against the sides of the crate but the sides were too high to jump over and he wasn't going anywhere. 

"Don't fuss piglet," the Alpha said, giving his head a small pat and straightening the ears that had gone askew on his head. "You're going to love it, I promise. You'll get as much cock as you want all day long. It's exactly the life you want, trust me." 

To Lazoen's shame, he was the tiniest bit eager to finally get fucked and maybe knotted. And finally get to cum. Even if it was because of an ugly hairy beast. 

"Can't wait to have lots of cute little ones running around the farm. I'm told you'll be a good breeder," the Alpha says, closing the back panel of the pick-up truck and striding over to the driver's door.

He couldn't actually get pregnant with a boar. Could he? 

That's all he could think of and imagine, horribly turned on against his own logic, as the truck rattled off towards the Alpha's farm. 

Chapter Text

As Finlay was led away from the declaration area, he could hear the poor omega behind him being classified as a pig and he was almost relieved for himself. Almost. 

Why had he never heard of these peculiar designations? Or seen them before? It was all cats and dogs in the city. Sometimes a bunny. But never a pony. Never a pig.

He wondered what being an omega pig entailed but he couldn't wonder for long. He had his own fate to fear.

His Alpha trainer led him to a glass containment room that was mostly bare. 

"As a pony, your biggest asset is your legs," the trainer explained as he circled Finlay's bare body. In his hand was a thin wooden rod and as simple as it was, the way he slapped it against his open palm was threatening enough to keep the omega standing perfectly straight with his hands submissively behind his back. "You have nice strong legs, thick thighs," he tapped the rod against the back of Finlay's legs, "substantial calves. They'll grow more shapely with training."

Finlay said nothing. He had heard stories of omegas developing amiable relationships with their trainers and he didn't want to ruin that possibility by saying the wrong thing at the very start. 

Cooperation and obedience was the best way forward. Every omega knew that. As bad as things might seem, they could always be worse. 

"First we'll need to give you a name. Hm. Finlay. Fin? Far too sophisticated for a pony. How about Sparkles? Sparkles the pony."

Finlay swallowed loudly. "I- I like it Sir. Thank you." 

The Alpha's face broke into a wide grin and he nodded once in approval.

Finlay was strong for an omega. His father was a hypermasculine, built-like-a-brick-shithouse Alpha who had been incredibly disappointed to find out that his first son was an Omega. So Finlay, having no control over his status as an Omega, worked hard to make sure that at the very least, he didn't look like a twink.

He had spent hours building his muscles in the sole hope of avoiding a training center. He didn't want to look like the tiny, pretty, feminine omegas he always saw on leashes in the city. He didn't want to appeal to Alphas.

What he hadn't considered was that his well-sculpted body would appeal to other Alphas in its own way.

"These," the trainer said, rod tapping at Finlay's solid upper arm, "You won't be needing these. We used to bind them in a wrist to shoulder encasement behind the back but these days we find it more efficient to remove them completely."

Remove his arms? They were going to remove his arms? 

It took a huge amount of mental strength for Finlay to remain standing where he was without bursting out in horrified screams. But he hadn't gotten as fit as he was without self-discipline, so he was determined to utilize it to remain stoic.

"Of course you'll still be expected to carry materials but you'll do that with your tits. We'll get some sturdy rings through those nipples and then you'll be able to carry anything, don't worry."

Don't worry? The more the Alpha spoke, the more reasons Finlay had to worry.

"We just can't have you thinking you're stronger than your Alpha. You're going to be his livestock. You need to know your place." 

Finlay struggled to see how losing his arms would make him better livestock but he knew better than to voice this thought. He wished they'd hurry up and make him dumb already so that this whole thing would be more bearable. 

_________

The first thing they did was fit him with a collar.

It was thicker, or rather, taller than any he had seen before. It rested on his collar bone and held his chin up, forcing him to look straight ahead. 

"Great posture, omega. You'll be a fantastic pony, I can tell."

The collar didn't allow him to have anything but good posture but the praise still affected Finlay, like Alpha praise always did. It sent happy hormones rushing through his bloodstream and bombarded him with warm feelings of satisfaction at having pleased an Alpha.

It was pathetic, of course, but he had no control over it. Being an omega meant he responded embarrassingly to so many simple things.

With the collar pushing up against his chin, the only way to open his mouth to speak was to tilt his head backward, looking mostly upward. Which means he couldn't see where he was going. 

It turned out that opening his mouth to speak wouldn't be a problem because it wasn't an option.

A long gag bit, a thin horizontal thing, was fitted in his mouth. On either side, metal rings pressed against his cheeks and from those rings hung reins. Each pull on them forced him to raise his head but mostly they were used, as he would soon discover, to guide his direction. 

As if he wouldn't understand a simple verbal command like left or right. Maybe they were going to make him dumber than usual omega pets. 

_________

There were a few days where nothing happened besides eating and sleeping in the containment room. Unfortunately, those days were also spent anxiously wondering how much longer he'd have arms for. 

So distracted was he by his own racing thoughts that he didn't notice the tenderness of his chest until it was beginning to swell visibly. That didn't seem right. What need would a pony have for breasts? 

"Your tits are coming in nicely, Sparkles," his Trainer commented one morning, confirming Finlay's dreadful suspicions. "You'll look lovely once they've filled out." 

And look lovely he did. They protruded from his body like they had always been there, two pretty breasts so fat that they seemed to pull his skin taut. His nipples were more prominent than ever, poking out obscenely. And that seemed to be their sole purpose - to make him look as erotic ad possible.

He tried to cover his new tits with his arms whenever trainers or cleaners or monitors were around but they were soon too bulbous and protruding even for his muscular arms to shield them effectively. 

He couldn't bear the thought that there would soon come a time where he wouldn't be able to do that. 

With the collar holding his head so high, it made him look proud of his figure, made him seem like he was trying to show off his watermelon tits for the viewing pleasure of whatever Alpha was there to look.

There was nothing he could do to hide. All the pony gear forced him to stand tall and proud, to trot with confidence, to show off his omega tits lewdly. 

"Thank God you already have this ass," his trainer said, tapping his trusty rod against Finlay's plump, well-rounded buttocks in a way that made the omega clench involuntarily and grow a little wetter. "It balances out your top half nicely. Perfect shape."

His last day with arms came and went without his knowledge. It was like any other day and he would only know that the day had passed when he awoke the following morning with bandages over his shoulders and the odd sensation of ghost limbs where his real one's were missing. 

He must have been anesthetized in his sleep and perhaps unconscious for longer than it seemed because he barely felt the pain he expected to feel. It was merely unusual. 

He'd grown accustomed to doing things like eating and drinking without using his hands so he managed those fairly well, bending to reach a trough they had filled with all sorts of leftovers from the Alphas of the center. 

Surprisingly, one of the biggest new challenges was merely keeping his balance. 

This was only made more difficult when they put the ridiculous trotting boots on him. He wasn't able to look down at them because of the posture collar, but he felt his feet being forced to pointe.

Every muscle in his legs strained to keep him upright while his abdomen worked hard at keeping the rest of him from toppling over. 

His lack of arms made balancing a more impossible task and he feared falling forward and having nothing to break his fall besides his balloon breasts. What an absurd sight that would make - pony boy on the floor, tits down, ass up, pointy shoes kicking wildly in the air. 

The following day, his nipples were pierced and a thick, metal ring was threaded through each. 

"Best to start with the thickest and let you adjust as soon as possible," his trainer said. 

They would take a long time to heal is what he was told. 

In the meantime, he would learn to trot. 

Every day, he was made to walk, round and round, in those awful ankle-breakers, with statue-of-liberty-posture. Tall and proud, against his will.

He practiced changing direction according to tugs on his reigns, and lifting his knees high enough to be considered a proper trot. When the Alpha trainer wasn't satisfied with the execution of Finlay's trot, he implemented a new means of training that Finlay began to dread. 

It was awfully clever, designed to put the omega in a predicament that forced them to trot correctly. And Finlay detested it. 

A long chain connected each heeled boot to the other. That chain went up, and threaded through the tip of his cock cage, the thing that made sure he didn't get any pesky Omega erections and could only leak like a bitch. 

The chain was only long enough for one foot to be on the ground at a time, while the other had to raise up to trotting height. Any attempt to lower that leg without lifting the other, resulting in a brutal tug of his cockcage and in turn, on his sensitive sac. 

Either left leg or right leg had to be raised at all times and their positions had to be switched at the exact same time to avoid any tugging. 

As a result, the Omega quickly learnt how to trot rapidly and without error. 

While they healed, the sensitivity of his nipples was nearly unbearable and he was almost grateful that they were allowed to be completely bare. They would tingle spontaneously, an effect of the piercing healing around the rings.

But eventually, near the end of his trotting lessons, he hardly noticed them anymore.

Next, his Alpha informed him, he would be trained to carry supplies. Was Finlay a pony, a horse, or a pack mule? The difference didn't seem to matter at the training center. They made their own rules.

The fact that he was expected to do manual labor without arms was downright ludicrous but he soon understood that the decision was made with no regard for efficiency. It was purely to humiliate the omega and nothing more.

________

"No wobbling," the Alpha commanded, sternly but patiently.

If he could stop wobbling, he would, but his whole position was a precarious one.

The crate of beers, that he was to avoid swaying, hung from his chest. His breasts had a natural wobble which made keeping the crate still, while trotting, nearly impossible. 

That effort became futile when the trainer's rod struck his naked ass. 

It was a command to walk and as much as he wanted to stand still, the omega couldn't ignore the sting of the rod.

The rod struck again and he hurried forward, eager to show that he was obeying so that the trainer would show some mercy to his buttocks. 

It continued to burn where it was thwapped as he hobbled forward, crate of beers swinging and glass bottles clinking inside.

The Alpha hummed in approval. "Good job, Sparkles. You're doing well. You look marvelous. Are you getting wet from serving?"

The omega barely mumbled a response around the bit, when the Alpha's fingers were suddenly between his ass cheeks, forcing their way inside him. They prodded inside his hole, testing his wetness despite how obviously he was leaking down his thighs. The slick was excessive, trickling little streams that only confirmed that this was what omegas were made for. 

He detested his body for betraying him in such a way. Even the way his nipples responded, angered him. He wished they would stop sending jolts of electric arousal straight to his cock. It made it nearly impossible for him to maintain the posture that was expected of a pony. 

"We can't have you leaking like that while you work," the trainer said. "But don't worry. It's easily fixed."

The trainer was referring to a tail - something every pony needed to have.

Of course the tail came in the form of a plug that was forced into his tight ass. It was worryingly enormous yet the Alpha trainer seemed accustomed to pushing the thing inside unwilling omega boys. 

It filled him up, pressed so far up inside him that he felt it with every step. Walking became an even greater challenge - something that Finlay had thought was impossible since he'd been put in those god-awful ballerina boots. 

The plug was invasive, and monstrously huge and he struggled to think about anything else but the way he was stuffed so full by a massive fake cock-shaped thing. 

The fact that it wasn't an Alpha's cock instantly made him want to whine and beg for the real thing. It was a shallow imitation, it wouldn't knot him, and that thought kept him frustrated and yearning. 

The plug was designed to tease, to keep him excited and eager and obedient. A gentle yank on it had him leaking and whimpering in the most embarrassing way. 

Everything they did to him, whether big or small, was a reminder that he was nothing more than an omega bitch, a subservient horny thing that just wanted to be bred. 

And it was hard to believe he was anything other than that as he lugged box after box of ware back and forth. 

He was still wondering why this was something he had to practice, as an intellectual Omega, when it was so simple. 

He kept thinking that it would be better to practice such things once he was dumber. Once he had no other thoughts but pony thoughts. When it would be less humiliating. Not now, while he was still Finlay, just indescribably horny and dressed like a pony.

These were the thoughts that were at the forefront of his mind when his Alpha trainer brought him the news that he was being purchased by a farmer from up north.

Now? He couldn't possibly mean now. He wasn't ready. 

But to his astonishment, the very next day, in strode his new owner. Papers signed and reins in hand, ready to transport his new pony to his farm. 

The Alpha had a familiar stature and gait. Not immediately recognizable, but definitely bearing some resemblance to someone he knew. 

His stomach dropped, and he stared in horror as the man finally looked directly at him, taking him in. 

"F-Finlay?" His uncle stammered. 

"This is Sparkles," his trainer answered for him. 

"He's perfect." His Uncle brought his hand up to the omega's face and stroked it gently with the back of his hand. "Sparkles," he repeated, looking fond.

No. Why would his uncle still want to take him? Weren't there laws against this? Was he going to fuck him? 

Finlay felt dizzy as he was fitted with his reins. The reigns were passed to his uncle - his owner, while his trainer gave him one last affectionate headpat. 

As he was led away, it finally sunk in for Finlay that this was it. He was officially an omega pet, property of an Alpha. Property of his uncle. 

He only hoped his father had no intention of visiting the farm soon. Or ever.