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Chapter Text

The Kingdom of Luoth was ruled by King Legar, an alpha of two sons, Crown Prince Alberic and a younger son, Prince Rulian. Never had the line of Legar ever produced an omega, and when each prince presented as alpha, the kingdom rejoiced.

These two princes were opposite mirrors of each other and as close as brothers could be. They were both tall and straight-backed, Alberic fair with a shock of gold hair, Rulian with hair as silky and black as a river at midnight. Alberic was broad-shouldered, sun-kissed and ruddy-cheeked; Rulian was lean and lethal, pale as the flesh of a ripe apple. The people of Luoth often said that Alberic was the sun and Rulian the moon; one could not exist without the other, and they were both equally beloved.

Though Alberic could be hot-tempered, he was a jovial personality, quick to laugh, easy-going with the generals he commanded, friendly with the common folk. He was often seen smiling, bright green eyes sparkling as he charmed women and led armies into battle. His bravery was as expansive as his kindness, and everyone who met him knew him to be good-hearted.

Rulian was far more reserved, a quiet fellow who barely spoke unless spoken to, though his every utterance was known to be the height of politeness and decorum. Although his manner was exceedingly proper, he was no less ruthless in battle. He was as fearless as he was untouchable, as fierce as a shard of ice brought to life.

It was often said that if Prince Alberic was command, Prince Rulian was the blade; Prince Alberic the heart of Luoth, Prince Rulian the kingdom’s virtue. While everyone loved Alberic the most, the most respected was Prince Rulian, the immaculate paragon of Luoth nobility and honor. These brothers were two shining sides of a gold and silver coin, the Gold and Silver Sons of Luoth.

Four years after Prince Rulian presented, an attack came from the west. The Kingdom of Gasredal had long been jealous of the land, resources, and riches of the Kingdom of Luoth, and the King of Gasredal, Alpha Shadarian, had declared war. He, too, had two alpha sons, Crown Prince Sorcus, and Severin, Prince of Ellar.

Though no one could match the beauty of the Sons of Luoth, Sorcus and Severin were themselves most handsome, both tall and broad-shouldered, full of strength and vigor, their features sharp and defined. Here, however, was where similarities ended. Both brothers were liars and cheats, known for their immorality and cruelty. Prince Severin in particular was infamous for his depravity, his lewd and licentious behavior despised by Gasredal’s own people, who lived in fear of their royal family.

At first, the war seemed to tip in Luoth’s favor. Alberic was an intelligent, sensitive commander, and the quick decisiveness of Rulian’s silver blade on the battlefield cut a wide swathe of blood that many feared to cross. Meanwhile, Princes Sorcus and Severin did not even participate in the day-to-day concerns of war, instead preferring to wallow in the excesses and lassitude of court, letting their battles be fought by their generals.

The three alpha generals of Gasredal were known throughout the two kingdoms to be hopelessly dull, crude people who should not have been capable of causing the destruction they had already managed. However, what these generals lacked in acuity and wit, they made up for in brutality, causing them to be particularly dangerous.

General Wulfric was a mountain of a man, dumb-witted and slow, capable of shattering rocks with his bare hands. The soldiers below him fought with an unusual fervor out of fear that his massive strength and infamous rage would be unleashed upon them if victory was not won by them in battle.

General Erminus was shrewd but small-minded, rising through the ranks from street rat to soldier to general through petty manipulations and scheming. His soldiers were similarly self-serving and vulgar, believing that by fighting dishonorably, they, too, could rise. The armies of General Erminus, known in particular for their willingness to slaughter and maim civilians in nearby villages to lure the armies of Luoth away from the central battle, were aware that Prince Alberic would feel compelled to split his forces in order to protect the people. These traps were new and more nefarious every time, so that they could not be predicted, and slowly General Erminus chipped away at Luoth’s armies.

The third general was Cenfus, a wealthy lord of Gasredal who had taken the position not out of any interest in war but out of an extreme interest in profit. General Cenfus was a lazy fellow, incapable of lifting even a finger to do an ounce of work, continually perfumed and pampered by mindless omegas who would only do his bidding. Still, the soldiers of General Cenfus were the most violent and vicious of all. They fought not out of fear or a hazy hope of advancement but for very real reward, for General Cenfus had put out the word that for every enemy soldier slaughtered in battle, he would pay ten pounds rose gold. Though proof of these kills was not always practical, General Cenfus was said to provide an additional bonus for enemy alpha cock. This was even less practical to procure, considering the layers of armor and leather on every soldier and the lack of external evidence of secondary gender, but the promise of such riches sent the soldiers of General Cenfus’s army into absolute frenzy.

Facing these three tyrants were the Gold and Silver Sons of Luoth and their own generals. The most prominent of these generals was the alpha general Maerek of Ilth, friend to Crown Prince Alberic since birth, and mentor to Prince Rulian. Like the princes of Luoth, General Maerek was good and honorable. Born a commoner, his heroic deeds and feats of bravery had earned him the title of lieutenant, then captain. Favored by Alberic and beloved by Rulian, Maerek had soon been awarded the title of general.

Despite the horrors of Gasredal tactics, these three shining examples of Luoth bravery and goodness held the enemy armies back. The war was nearing its end when King Shadarian the Third suddenly declared that the Kingdom of Gasredal would end the war immediately and withdraw all troops on one condition: the Kingdom of Luoth surrender its second son, Prince Rulian.

The demand was outrageous, most of the kingdom incensed. King Shadarian’s messenger promised that Prince Rulian would not be harmed or imprisoned, but rather treated as an honored guest of the court. His presence would be a promise of future peace, a symbol of harmony between two lands. So enraged was Prince Alberic by the proposal that he cut out the tongue of this messenger and sent it back in a jeweled box the messenger himself was forced to carry.

The terms of such a truce did not, after all, seem necessary. The war was almost won, and Prince Alberic believed the matter to be over when the rebellion began.

This rebellion began as a rumor. The rumor was this: these Gold and Silver Sons were close. A little too close. Wasn’t it a little unusual? Then the rumor grew: these Gold and Silver Princes were good. A little too good. Was there perhaps something imperfect about them, yet invisible? What could they be hiding?

Then whispers began in the west. The war had lasted eighteen months so far, long past the projected date of peace. The last harvest had been ransacked and pillaged, the spring planting sabotaged and ruined. What were people to live on, when their sons were all dying in battles, and women and children and the elderly were not safe in the villages, and what crops there were sown were sown in blood? The question came to be asked: was Prince Rulian of more value to Prince Alberic than his own people?

The flames of these rumors were fanned into rebellion by the lords of the west, chief among them Chancellor Osfrith of Nader and Lord Leofwine of Tairn. Chancellor Osfrith was of a noble family, and as a child, he had known Alberic, Rulian, and Maerek well. Osfrith, however, had been unlike these other children, in that he was vain and competitive, secretive and mean. Older than Rulian, Osfrith had picked on him as a child, mocking his quiet nature. Sometimes he had even contrived to “accidentally” close the door when they visited cellars, leaving Rulian locked all alone, or forgetting that Rulian had not yet learned to swim when he playfully tossed Rulian in a lake. Once Alberic learned of the true nature of these incidents, he demanded that Osfrith be stripped of all titles and cast out of the land. King Legar, ever lenient in nature, had instead decreed that Osfrith should be awarded a title in the farthest corner of the country, where Rulian would be sure never to encounter him again.

Lord Leofwine of Tairn was a noble infamous for his licentious habits, even when he visited court. Though he had been married over thirty years, Lord Leofwine still found new ways to humiliate his wife, finding new omegas who had only just presented and terrorizing them even in public, ultimately pursuing them until they were left with child. At this point, Lord Leofwine typically abandoned them, though he had even been known to bring omegas so seeded to his orgies, claiming that now the omegas were with child, anyone could feel free to breed them without consequence. Both Alberic and Rulian had urged the king their father to imprison this pig of a man and throw away the key, but Lord Leofwine, though despised by the people of Tairn, was deeply beloved by his lordly neighbors. The neighbors appreciated Leofwine’s ability to procure them fine omega stock for breeding and looked the other way at his more obscene indiscretions. Meanwhile, the land of these neighbors provided the majority of the grain that fed the capital state, and the king could not upset this delicate balance of power without risking starvation for the people of his shining city.

Lord Leofwine, seeking profit, and Chancellor Osfrith, still bitter due to his ostracism, stoked their fellow lords into excitement. They claimed that Prince Alberic loved his brother unnaturally, and that he placed the company of his brother above the lives of his own people. When the lords of the west decided that such strangeness between brothers should not be borne in the great Kingdom of Luoth, the people of the land were more than willing to agree, not out of concern for the relationship between brothers, but because their own people were dying.

So it was that the western portion of the Kingdom of Luoth joined forces with the Kingdom of Gasredal to fight the Gold and Silver Sons, and the tide of the war turned in the opposite direction.

Battles raged another six months. King Shadarian continued to promise truce in exchange for Prince Rulian, whom he continued to claim would be a guest of court and treated with utmost care. At the end of these six months, Prince Rulian went to his brother’s war tent and announced, “I’m surrendering.”

“Brother,” said Prince Alberic, turning from the General Maerek and his other war counselors.

“They say I will be treated well,” said Rulian.

Alberic looked at him in shock. “You don’t believe them.”

Rulian inclined his head. “No.”

“Brother,” Alberic said again, dropping the map he had been holding on the table, advancing toward his brother. “This is madness. You can’t—”

“How do you propose to stop me?”

Alberic stopped his advance as though he had been slapped in the face.

“I don’t recommend bondage,” said Rulian. “That would only reinforce the rumors.”

Alberic swallowed hard. “Don’t speak of that—that filth. It’s blasphemy. It’s—perversion.”

“Yes,” said Rulian, ever calm.

“They won’t keep to their word.”

“No,” Rulian agreed.

“Then why?”

“I live, and there is peace. I die, and I’m a martyr. Either way, our people know that they are more precious to you than any one man.”

“They’re not.” Alberic’s voice was flat.

“They have to be.”

“Why?”

“You are the future king. And I—I am a . . . spare.”

“You’re mine,” Alberic growled.

Rulian looked to the side. “It’s comments like these,” he said delicately, “that arouse suspicion.”

A strange gleam was in Alberic’s eyes, unsteady in the flickering firelight of the royal tent. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

Rulian’s face remained averted. “No,” he agreed.

There was a pause. “Why are you like this?” Alberic said softly, as Maerek and all the other counselors looked on.

“Every young person in this kingdom longs to be as brave as you, as kind, as good.” At last, Rulian turned his face to look at his brother. “I have never been an exception to this.”

Alberic reached out. “Brother—”

“I must arrange for my departure,” Rulian said, turning away and beginning to leave.

“What, now?”

“Don’t worry, Brother,” Rulian said, pausing as Alberic grabbed his arm. “I’m sure there will be time for a very touching goodbye that will not lead to speculation of any sort.”

Stunned, Alberic’s fingers loosened on Rulian’s sleeve, and Rulian slipped off into the night.

Rulian’s last words to his brother were a lie. He surrendered himself to the Gasredal army that very night, knowing that once Alberic recovered from Rulian’s sharp words, his brother would never let him go.

So it was that the Kingdom of Luoth traded its second son to the Kingdom of Gasredal for peace.

Prince Alberic, the people said, never was the same again.

*

Rulian was taken to Mydalr, the sprawling capital of Gasredal. There, Rulian had assumed he would be put on display in the king’s court as a prize of war so that the lords and generals of Gasredal could laugh at him and gawk. This was not the case. Instead, he was taken to the Western Palace, the infamous residence of Prince Severin, younger son of the king.

The court of the Western Palace was known throughout both kingdoms. Even the royals and dignitaries of Gasredal scorned it, lords and ambassadors disdaining it. The king and the Crown Prince ignored it, pretending it did not exist. The court of the Western Palace was not a place for nobility but rather for debauchery.

Rulian’s first night in the Western Palace, he was assigned two body guards, then forced to attend the court. When Rulian entered, almost no one heard his introduction. An orgy had already begun. Prince Severin, a handsome, languid man lounging in a throne, waved Rulian away with an annoyed gestured, then focused on the festivities before him, joining in breeding an omega not long after. The guards brought Rulian to a chair by the throne and requested that he sit.

Rulian sat. He sat, and he sat, and he sat. No one approached. No one pointed or laughed. No one even appeared to notice he was there or register who he was, as though the presence of an enemy prince in this court was so unremarkable that no one cared. Forced to sit and watch the debauchery before him, Rulian formed no expression.

An omega servant was pulled to the ground by wealthy-looking alphas and raped before Rulian’s feet. A pregnant omega in the center of the hall was being violated by five alphas at once, taking turns with her mouth, her sex, her ass, her breasts. Another pregnant omega was filling goblets with her milk, serving them to alphas who fondled her and laughed. At one point, a pack of dogs was brought in and set upon an omega in heat. At another point, a large pool of blood had to be cleaned from the floor, beta servants carrying away a body.

It lasted until the sun rose the next morning, and Rulian sat stone-faced through it all.

He had steeled himself against his fate, preparing himself for any possibility. As far as he was concerned, his life was forfeit. He was only here as decoration, insurance for the peace between two kingdoms and for his brother’s honor. Rulian would have sacrificed anything for that honor, to destroy those filthy rumors. He had sacrificed everything.

He believed it was worth it.

As for surviving Severin’s court, Rulian was very well practiced in maintaining a neutral expression and pretending nothing was going on. He’d done it for years while Osfrith tricked and bullied and undermined, thinking that he should be brave and bear it all himself. Alberic would have. The things that Osfrith did would never have even happened to Alberic. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Alberic had asked, when he did find out.

The answer had been simple. “I didn’t want you to know.”

Alberic had hugged him then, too hard. Then he’d put his hand on the back of Rulian’s head, forcing Rulian to look at him. “If anyone ever hurts you again,” Alberic said savagely, “they go through me. Do you understand? You tell me the second anyone touches a hair on your head, I’ll be there.”

Alberic had only just presented as an alpha at the time. Rulian had been eight, and his breath had left his body.

“Promise me,” Alberic had said, shaking him a little. “Promise me you’ll tell me.”

Rulian had promised.

No one was touching Rulian now. He wasn’t being hurt. This was something he could bear.

*

Nothing appeared to be wrong with the food served to Rulian in Gasredal, but the taste was always foul.

He considered the idea that he was being poisoned, but if so, the poison was slow. He didn’t notice any immediate effect other than lethargy, which might be a result of sudden inactivity after two years of war. If it was a slow-acting potion, there wasn’t much that he could do about it. There wasn’t much he could do about any of it. What would happen to him was going to happen. He was here for Luoth.

He was here for his brother.

Rulian was given a set of rooms—not the cell of a prisoner, but the chambers of an honored guest, well-appointed, with all the comforts one could ever need: a bathing room, a dressing room, a sitting room, a walled garden. Still, no one seemed to take particular note of his presence, other than the two bodyguards, who waited outside the doors to these chambers whenever Rulian was inside them. In the evenings, they escorted Rulian to court, but his presence did not seem to be desired or required there, and Rulian found that he could always slip out almost as soon as the fucking began.

He was allowed to walk about the palace, in the gardens, the kitchens, the unoccupied guest chambers. He found a library, which appeared to be full of texts containing explicit drawings, though there were a few pamphlets and books on other subjects. When courtesans or well-dressed people saw him in the halls, they ignored him, as though he was insignificant, beneath their notice. When servants brought him meals or drew his bath, Rulian attempted to speak to them, but they dropped their eyes, becoming mute.

Given the way Prince Severin ran his court, Rulian began to suspect that the type of people who spent time in the Western Palace were barely aware of the war at all, so little did the court concern itself with affairs of state. Even when there wasn’t an orgy, which seemed rare, the banquets were all ribald jokes, gossip, and frivolous discussion. Barely-clad omegas served the people seated at the long table, and inevitably, one of the alphas pulled one of them into their lap and began a violations. The banquet would then descend into another orgy, and Rulian would excuse himself, unnoticed.

The only time Rulian’s access to anything was ever barred was when he approached the palace gate, and even then, his bodyguards seemed vaguely disinterested. If it had only been the two of them, Rulian could have easily incapacitated them in spite of their weapons, but there were at least three more guards attending the gate itself. If Rulian had had his own sword, none of the give guards would have stood a chance.

He was even allowed to write letters and did so, sending Alberic a letter immediately on the second day, assuring him he was well and that Mydalr was a great deal more cultured and beautiful than either of them had been led to believe. He received a letter back the next day. Alberic must have written it immediately upon learning of Rulian’s departure, and the letter was full of anger, recriminations, begging Rulian to come back, promising Rulian he would come fetch him home. It was all written in Alberic’s spiky, disordered script, the blunt, forceful way he formed sentences while writing. Although Alberic always spoke at least ten times more eloquently than Rulian, Rulian had always been the one who could write.

Rulian wrote another letter immediately in response, then burnt it. It was not the sort of letter one sent to one’s brother. It was not the sort of letter one should write at all, especially when there were couriers in this enemy court who would no doubt read it.

Calming himself, Rulian wrote another letter still, this one in response to the letter he had received. Thus began a correspondence. The time to deliver the letters was at least a week, so there was a lag, but Rulian wrote almost every day, which was what his brother would expect. Alberic wrote every day as well. Some letters mentioned that he had sent gifts, but Rulian never received them. One letter mentioned that he had sent a handservant, Alberic’s own personal attendant, Indulf. Rulian worried about this, until he received a letter from Alberic a week later containing a rant about the fact that Indulf had been returned.

The messenger who had laid out the potential truce between the kingdoms—Gasredal’s withdrawal in exchange for the Younger Son of Luoth—had stated that Prince Rulian would be a personal guest of King Shadarian and his two sons. The messenger had known that that was not the case. Rulian had known that that was not the case, and Alberic had known it too. Rulian was a war prize, that was all. He would not be treated like a prisoner or a slave, but he was not a guest. He would not be gifted personal servants of his homeland. He would not be given special privileges.

He was insurance.

Luoth would not attack Gasredal if the life of it second most beloved prince was in Gasredal’s hands.

Two days after receiving this latest letter, the onset of Rulian’s rut began. He thought that he knew the various ways that this would go: either he would be forced to face the rut alone, or he would be given an omega (or several) and be forced to breed. The former option, while considered torture for most alphas, was no different than how Rulian had faced every other rut of his life. Unwilling to breed an omega he did not love, he had no time to find an omega that he did love, and so Rulian had always faced his ruts alone.

The latter option would be a gesture Gasredal would claim was generosity, but everyone would know that it was a humiliation. Giving an alpha omegas to breed, rather than allowing an alpha to choose and claim them himself, as was natural, was the sort of thing one did with a stud. Furthermore, the breeding stock that Gasredal would supply their prize were likely to be in some way shameful. Either the omegas would be the sort used as milk producers for those who demanded the milk as a dietary delicacy, or they’d be already mated to other alphas, or worst of all—omegas stolen from Luoth and enslaved by Gasredal during the war.

Rulian wondered what he might do if faced with the last option, but he already knew that he would not take his own life. The act was ignoble, and Alberic would blame himself. Nor could Rulian simply refuse to breed; an alpha in rut in the presence of a fertile omega could not physically resist after a certain point.

And yet Rulian was not faced with this option. Nor was he faced with any other of the options he had imagined.

Instead, he was faced with alphas.

When other alphas encroached upon their territory, alphas in rut had an instinct to fight. An alpha in rut, aided by a frenzy of internal chemicals, could usually take down at least two alphas out of rut. Rulian, who was well-trained in combat and incomparably fast and second in strength only to his brother, could have taken five.

When his two alpha bodyguards approached him that afternoon, Rulian warned them of his condition and expected them to leave, to find betas to guard the door or to escort him to some kind of enclosure used for political prisoners in such a condition. Instead, the bodygaurds moved closer. Rulian growled, posturing. The guards moved closer still, too close, and Rulian fought.

He tried to fight.

Everything felt slow, hazy. He moved as though through water. The bodyguards restrained him easily. They looked fuzzy around the edges, and realization came in a wavering sort of way: oh.

He’d been drugged.

Was that really what was wrong with the food? It wouldn’t have taken months to give him something to make him weak and dizzy; several plants he’d found in a book in this very palace could have done it. What else had they been giving him?

The bodyguards escorted him just as they had escorted him every day. Were they taking him to court? Would he be forced to fuck the scantily clad omegas in front of Prince Severin’s rich friends and favored guests? Would his rut be sport for their amusement?

But the bodyguards didn’t take him to court at all. Instead, they packed him into a palanquin, which had restraints fastened to the walls as though fashioned for this very purpose, and for the first time in two months, Rulian left the palace through the gates. Another realization hazily wafted through the first: oh. They had planned for this. They’d been planning for this all along. They’d ignored him because whatever they had planned, they needed his rut to enact it, and he had merely been dead weight until then. What did they have planned?

At last, the palanquin, shrouded in heavy curtains to block the view of wherever they had been going, stopped. The body guards pulled him out and escorted him through a large wooden door reinforced with iron. Rulian’s senses, heightened by rut, could easily identify the scent of a barracks: the smell of iron and of steel, lingering traces of polish and sawdust, the heavy tones of leather, and through it all the unmistakable scent of men.

While some omegas fought in Luoth armies, Rulian had never heard of any enlisted by Gasredal. Were they really going to give him betas? Some would say that was better than going through rut alone, but Rulian would not. The scent was not beta. This smell was overwhelmingly alpha.

By the time they reached the large interior room that Rulian hazily identified as the armory, Rulian was staggering, barely able to walk on his own two feet. The room was full of alphas.

“Oh, look,” one of them said. “It’s Alberic’s Blade.”

“The Silver Knife of Luoth,” another said.

“I doubt his blade is really that impressive,” said one more.

“Not for long,” another said.

Then Rulian, Silver Prince of the Golden Kingdom, was stripped bare, strapped down, and faced suddenly with an alpha cock belonging to one of the very soldiers he had spent the last two years fighting. Rulian had imagined a thousand humiliations when he had agreed to surrender himself to Gasredal, but he had never imagined this. His mind simply was not dark enough to envision such depravity.

Alphas didn’t fuck other alphas. It was simply unheard of. Even for the purposes of humiliation and torture, the act would not only debase the one who was fucked, but the one doing the fucking; alpha pheromones were not compatible. The chemicals in an alpha’s body could render another alpha impotent, if contact was too intimate and fluids were exchanged. There was a risk that by entering another alpha’s body, alpha cock become contaminated.

These alphas didn’t seem to care. They seemed to be ecstatic at the prospect of defiling the Silver Son, and Rulian could vaguely hear them arguing about who would have the privilege to go first. Dully, he registered the fact that there were the same soldiers who had seen his swirling silver blade on the battlefield and run from him, the brothers of those who had fallen to his sword, screaming. The men who had feared him and trembled before his righteous fury, these were the ones who took him now.

Then a soldier’s fist wrapped itself in Rulian’s hair, his inky, midnight hair about which the minstrels of Luoth had written sonnets, and the soldier forced against Rulian’s soft pink mouth his first taste of alpha cock, and it went down very, very easily, past his mouth, into his throat. Rulian should have choked. He should have bitten down. He did neither. Whatever potion they had given him rendered every muscle completely lax; his mouth was open, his throat yielding so completely to the obstruction that it felt like it belonged there. Rulian could feel that he was drooling. He couldn’t help it.

There was nothing he could do.

At least, Rulian thought distantly, Alberic wasn’t there to see.

Alberic would never need to know.

Then his legs were spread, and his thighs went where they were guided, splayed wantonly open on the breeding bench, like a whore. And when the first alpha cock breached his hole, it should have hurt, but it did not. He only felt a mounting pressure, as though his whole being was slowly being packed full with another body, another consciousness, another self, setting up residence in his skin, pushing the person he had once been into an infinitesimal speck.

Then the cock at his throat and the cock in his ass began to fuck, and that speck popped out of existence entirely.

They fucked him one after another, sometimes in tandem, ass and mouth. Time passed in a blur. There had been at least a dozen alphas to start, but there were more, coming and going from the armory, as though the announcement had been put out and soldiers were stopping by after lunch, on a break, just to dip their cock in the Silver Son and be on their way. Rulian found himself fading in and out of consciousness. Every time he woke, a new alpha cock was already inside of him, nudging at his ass or throat, usually both at once.

An alpha rut lasted three to four days. Rulian could feel the rut still happening, his senses still charged, his blood still coursing. He would have thought that the abuse would dull the other symptoms of rut, but instead, after the first eight hours or so, he realized that his cock seemed to be ignoring the proceedings, thickening and aching with hardness despite treatment that never should have fallen on an alpha. A few times, the other alphas seemed to notice his hardness, laughing about it, flicking it occasionally, never satisfying it, usually thereafter ignoring it completely.

Sometimes soldiers entered the room to find Rulian’s ass and throat already occupied. Some of them waited their turns, slowly stroking themselves as they laughed and jeered, watching him be used. Others used his bare skin to rub their cocks against, covering him in come. “I’ve heard this one called the Moon of Luoth,” one of them said, rubbing the come into Rulian’s skin. “Let’s make sure he looks the part.”

“You need to come inside him for it to work,” another said.

For what to work? Rulian didn’t know.

“You can absorb it through the skin,” another voice said. “Don’t you know that’s why omegas like it when you cream their face?”

“I thought that was because they liked to lick it up.”

“Make him eat it,” another suggested, and then the soldiers came on him and forced the globs of come down his throat.

When at last they put another cock in his mouth, Rulian felt almost relieved. It was warm and solid, steady, like a lifeline, something to focus on, something to hold on to.

“Look at that,” a soldier breathed. “He’s sucking.”

“Knew the bitch would turn,” said someone else, and they all laughed.

Another twenty hours passed, and Rulian realized something much worse than the hardness of his own cock. The erection resulting from his rut did not seem to be acting independently of the alpha cocks seemingly permanently entrenched in his throat and ass. Rather, his erection seemed to be responding to the abuse—not flagging, but intensifying, every time he was newly filled—every time another alpha filled him with their come.

Eventually, Rulian became so hard that he couldn’t hide it anymore. The ache was too painful. He needed relief. The hooting and hollering of the alphas fucking him and other alphas registered before Rulian even realized what he was doing.

“The bitch is fucking back onto me; look at him,” an alpha said.

“He’s getting off on it, the little slut.”

“Put him on top of you,” another one suggested. “I bet that bitch would ride.”

Rulian realized through his daze that he was rocking his hips helplessly, thrusting back to meet the alpha cock inside him. It was dragging his own cock against the bench, giving him the friction he needed, but suddenly he could feel the ache of his spread legs, how wide open his thighs had been for hours. He could hear the sound of the alpha cock squelching into his ass, come of other alpha cocks leaking out as he was fucked, mirroring the drool from his slack mouth.

“Nah,” said the alpha at Rulian’s back. He held Rulian down, so hard that Rulian could no longer rock his hips. “The pussy needs to get what’s coming.”

Rulian came. He didn’t even know how. It must have been the alpha jerking him against the bench, giving friction to his cock, but his whole body convulsed, tightening, gripping the alpha cock inside him tight and hard.

“Yeah, that’s the kind of thing I mean,” said that same alpha, gripping Rulian harder and jerking his ass down onto the alpha cock. “Show this little bitch who’s boss.” Then he began to fuck twice as hard, and the edges of Rulian’s vision went dark.

The alpha came, and Rulian blacked out once more.

Chapter Text

When he came to, his consciousness was still hazy, but the cock inside his ass grounded him, the steady rhythm of it fucking him bringing him down to a solid reality, holding him in his own body. He almost wished that he could have another one in his mouth, solid and warm and real. He felt so cold without one, his mouth so loose and empty, uselessly drooling and open. If he could just suck on something, he could feel whole, complete; that hazy feeling would fade away.

“Look,” someone said. “He wants it. He’s reaching for it.”

“Crawl for it, bitch.”

There was a cock in sight. Hazily, Rulian realized he wasn’t strapped down any longer, but this did not afford him freedom. He couldn’t get to the cock in sight without moving away from the cock fucking his ass. He heard a soft, strange sound, something like a whimper.

“Listen to that bitch cry,” someone said.

“Come get it, Silver Prince,” said one of the earlier voices. “Doesn’t it look thick? Doesn’t it look juicy for your sweet empty mouth?”

“At least let me finish with his pussy,” said a voice from behind. “Almost there—it’s so slick and wet, almost an omega already.” Then that voice grunted. The alpha came, and Rulian didn’t hesitate.

He crawled across the bench to that thick, waiting cock and put his mouth on it. Someone moaned. It was him. It just felt so thick and real in his mouth, warm and full. He felt his eyes roll back in his skull. He closed them. This was bliss, except . . . his ass was cold and empty again. Couldn’t he keep both full at once? Had he been spoiled earlier?

“Look at that,” someone said again. “He’s presenting.”

“How sweet,” said someone else.

“Omega bitch,” said a third.

At last, another cock came from behind to fill him. Rulian had what he wanted, filled from either end. This time, his cock wasn’t even touching anything when he came.

It was the height of his rut, the last throes before the cooldown, when normally, he could come and come and come with very little or no stimulation. Now the only thing Rulian seemed to need was cocks filling him, and he came so many times being fucked between them that his limbs gave out, and he lay there on the bench, cocks inside him, on top of him, drenching him completely in their alpha come as he came, and came, and came.

*

When Rulian came to once more, they were trying to feed him. They’d fed him regularly through his rut so far, the sort of meals usually given to omegas in heat: lots of fruit, lots of juices, little cakes and sweets and flowered waters and teas. The sugar kept energy up and made omega slick taste sweet; the foods were easy to digest and kept the omega’s body hydrated and clean.

Rulian was not an omega. He usually craved red meat during a rut, but they hadn’t brought him any. He’d taken what they’d given him, but this time when he woke he couldn’t bear the thought of taking the food into his mouth, into his body. It wasn’t what he needed. It wasn’t what he was starving for. He was so, so hungry, ravenous, his whole body on fire with starvation, and he could see what would sate his hunger not two steps away.

“Please,” he heard himself say, the first word he had spoken in this whole ordeal.

In fact, he felt less hazy now, as though waking from a daze. Perhaps the potion had finally left his system, but its disappearance only made his hunger all the more intense, more real. For the first time, he could feel himself and his own body clearly, and he knew exactly what he needed.

“What does the bitch want now?” a voice asked.

“Please,” Rulian said again.

“I know what it wants.” The voice sounded from above a large alpha cock. A hand was stroking it.

It was the largest one in the room. Rulian had already looked them over. He heard himself whimper.

“Ask for it,” said the voice.

“Oh, what?” Another voice laughed. “Yeah, I think you’re right, Dudon. Ask for it, bitch.”

“Beg for it,” chimed in another voice.

“Pretty slut,” said the voice with the biggest cock. “You know what you need.” Then he was coming forward, gripping Rulian by the hair, holding Rulian’s mouth away from what he really, really needed. “Ask for it, simple slut, and you can have it.”

Rulian blinked up at him, eyes clear and mouth starving. “Come,” he whispered. “I need your—come, your alpha cock.”

The whole barracks laughed.

“Give it to the bitch,” a voice broke in, among the raucous laughter. “You heard him.”

“Imagine if his brother could hear him,” said another voice.

Rulian’s cock pulsed, thickly. His whole body shuddered.

“I think he likes that idea,” said one of the voices.

Dudon, the one holding Rulian by the hair, tightened his grip, forcing Rulian to arch his spine to look at him. “What would you give,” Dudon asked, “to get what you need?”

Rulian looked up at him, his eyes fully aware and bright. “Anything,” he breathed. “Anything.”

The barracks whooped in glee.

“Good slut,” Dudon agreed, then shoved Rulian’s face down onto the waiting cock. “Now take what you’re given like the convenient bitch you are. Someone come fill the other end; this bitch is dripping all over the floor.”

Rulian took it. He took it and he took it and he took it, mindlessly and deliriously sated on what he so craved.

*

After his rut was over, Rulian was returned via the palanquin to the Western Palace, where he was able to bathe and eat alone.

The food was real food. He slept for three days straight. On the morning of the fourth day, he was finally able to think.

There had long been legends throughout both kingdoms that alphas could be bitched—turned into omegas—if they were forcefully bred and fed alpha come. As dangerous as an alpha fucking another alpha could be for either or both parties, Rulian had not heard the legend much discussed. It had been only that—legend. There was no recorded incident of an alpha being bitched, and given the contamination risk to an alpha knotting another alpha, Rulian wasn’t aware that anyone had ever tried it.

Gasredal must have found a way. Whatever potion they had been adding to Rulian’s meals must have adjusted him fundamentally, such then when his body began receiving alpha come directly from the source, his body didn’t reject it. Not only had his body not rejected it, it had eventually begun to welcome it to the point of requiring it the way an omega did when an omega was in heat.

His rut had, in essence, become a heat. And just like a rut or a heat, the intensity of it eventually wore off.

The changes to Rulian’s body, however, had not stopped.

Rulian’s cock was already visibly smaller than before. Plenty of omegas had cocks, but usually they were not as large as an alpha’s. Additionally, all omegas, male or female, had vulvas, as well as anal glands that produced slick, providing multiple points of entry for alpha cock. By the third day, Rulian could already feel his ass grow a little slick when he thought about what had happened to him.

On the morning of the fourth day, he could feel wetness between his legs that was not his ass and not certainly not his cockhead. A small slit had opened behind his balls, which were even smaller than they had been a day ago. The slit was soft and wet, and so sensitive that touching it made him jolt.

Rulian was being bitched. However Gasredal had managed to discover and perfect and the process of turning an alpha into an omega, it must involve the chemicals released during rut, and so whoever had decreed that Rulian should be bitched had been waiting for that rut to make a move. After that, Rulian reasoned, either several ruts were required to complete the transformation, or Rulian’s body would simply continue to gradually change into an omega.

Either way, until the transformation was complete, the highborn alphas of a royal court had very little interest in an enemy alpha, lest they risk contamination. This was why they had paid no attention to him before. Once he was a fully-fledged omega, Rulian could only guess what lay in store. The orgies at court consisted of omegas in heat displayed wantonly on piles of jeweled cushions, waiting with their legs open for the next obliging alpha to come fill them. Was this his fate?

Another person in Rulian’s position might have despaired. He might have raged. He might have looked for means to escape or drowned in his own shame. Rulian, however, had already surrendered his life when he agreed to give it to Gasredal. He knew what sort of kingdom this was and what sort of people lived here. He had been resigned to his fate. That it was worse than he could have dreamed was no reason to behave differently than he had always intended.

He was a prisoner of Gasredal, but a tool for Luoth. He was a bargaining chip, a pawn to be moved across a board. He had lived his whole life knowing he would never rule, that he would only serve, that his whole existence was but a symbol for his king and kingdom. The second son was but a slave to his king, a vessel that could only live to raise up his king’s splendor.

That Rulian had been less focused on his king than he had been on the Crown Prince hadn’t mattered much. Alberic would be king. It had been appropriate to worship him. Rulian had been happy to do it.

When he’d realized he could end the war by giving up his life, his body, his everything, all for Alberic, he’d been taken by a strange, guilty sort of thrill. He could be useful, at last. Not someone Alberic had to look after. Not someone Alberic had to shield and drag behind him. Rulian himself could be useful; he could use his own body and his own life. It had filled him with an ecclesiastical sort of ecstasy that he could sacrifice himself and make meaning out of it.

That Rulian had given himself to Gasredal for Alberic and not for the kingdom as a whole also didn’t matter. He’d still bought for them truce. The fact that the sacrifice of his body and soul and spirit in order to serve his brother filled him with euphoric exultation didn’t matter either. A brother should feel happy to serve his future king. It was only right.

If that sacrifice took him out of his brother’s intoxicating presence, so much the better.

Rulian was an instrument of peace. He would continue to be so even as he was forced to become an omega slut used for the pleasure of these sordid, depraved monsters. He was only sacrificing his body more thoroughly than he had ever dreamed he could. And when he thought about it that way, the thought of said sacrifice filled him with an exultation even more intense than what he’d felt when he’d left his brother’s war tent that night.

After all, that night he had only thought that he was giving his life for his kingdom, his king, and most of all, his brother. But now, Rulian had given his virginity, his anatomy, his cock, his mouth, his ass. He’d been flooded with alpha come and taken it happily into his mouth, his stomach. He would continue to be desecrated, defiled, his entire being stripped away by alpha come and alpha cock, and it would be for his kingdom. For his king. And most of all, for his brother.

The thought made him wet. Shamefully wet. He thought about how he had felt, being fucked, being bred, tasting alpha come, hanging on alpha knot like the bitch that they had called him, the slut that they had called him, and in his mind he told himself, for Alberic, and he grew wetter still.

Distantly, he knew that he should be ashamed. Perhaps the new chemicals in his body were working on him, changing him into a being who wanted this, who craved it. That was what an omega was, at least when an omega was in heat, a creature who craved come and cock and could not rest until they had it.

But Rulian knew that omegas did not crave desecration. They did not crave defilement. That was all Rulian, and deep inside, he knew that he had always been this way: perverse, wrong. He wanted nothing more than to be profaned and violated, because nothing could be a greater sacrifice to his brother, whom he had always wanted to give his whole self, everything, his whole body, all of it, everything inside. What better way to give himself to his brother than to be stripped away completely?

The only thing to keep in mind was that Alberic must never, ever know. To learn what had happened to his little brother would destroy him, and so Rulian lived with his shrinking cock, his leaking ass, the rosy, soft wet secret growing between his legs, and he wrote his brother pleasant letters.

“I continue to be largely ignored at court,” he wrote. “My chambers are pleasant enough, if a bit boring. The court continues to be full of disgusting and rancid activities and individuals.” Alberic would know the letter was not in earnest if Rulian was not wicked or witty enough in his critiques; only Alberic and Maerek in the whole Kingdom of Luoth were privy to the fact that Rulian, when he allowed himself to be uncensored, had an extremely sharp tongue.

Similarly, Alberic would think Rulian was being deprived food and water and all means of livelihood if Rulian did not also comment on some sort of text or poetry, Alberic knowing that Rulian had always lived on books as much as air. So Rulian kept visiting the library, finding the few texts that were not pornographic, bringing them back to his chambers. There were not many pamphlets or scrolls on philosophy or ethics, which Rulian generally preferred, but there were a few histories. He read them and provided exactly the sort of commentary Alberic might have expected, critical of Gasredalian politics yet still contemplative about the alternative versions of historical events the texts provided.

Alberic also would have known something was amiss had Rulian not provided some rather too-detailed descriptions of things like rocks and trees and the new little birds he could see out his window. Such observations were juvenile and silly, but Rulian had always been a little too fascinated by things to which others paid no heed, and Alberic had always listened to these ramblings as though they were the most interesting dissertations he had ever heard. He’d been amused by them as well, but he never laughed. “I love the way you notice things,” Alberic had said instead, his mouth curved in that generous way, his green eyes soft, his cheeks rosy with the pleasure of listening. “My brother with the keenest eyes.”

Rulian had always looked away when Alberic said things like this. “Your eyes are keener,” he’d say.

“Stop, it’s not a contest.” Alberic would ruffle Rulian’s hair, just as Rulian had expected he would. “But if it was a contest, my little brother would always win.”

Rulian would still be looking away, but he would frown. “Liar.”

Alberic would throw his head back and laugh. “Why are you so reluctant to realize your quality?” he’d say, then sling an arm around Rulian’s shoulders.

“Why are you so reluctant to correctly predict the outcome of contests?”

Alberic would look at him a moment, then laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

Remembering these moments in the chambers appointed to him in the Western Palace, Rulian wrote his letters, feeling wetness pool between his legs. The slit beneath his shrinking balls had grown folds. He wondered whether he would grow a womb as well. Would the royal courts of Gasredal force him to become breeding stock, bearing brats and bastards for the lazy degenerates of the courts? Or, even more humiliating, for the soldiers in the barracks? For the alpha servants who dug their ditches and paved their streets?

Rulian felt the wetness flow, heady and sweet. He imagined being pregnant, over and over, heavy with milk, fucked full of alpha sperm and giving birth every nine months to some child who would be stolen from him. He imagined suffering this, the worst of all indignities, for his brother, and he grew wetter still.

*

Alphas usually went into rut about every three months, four times a year—about as often as an omega went into heat. Rulian’s next rut, however, was only one month later. The bodyguards piled him into the palanquin again, and Rulian did not resist at all. He could not admit to himself that he was eager to be violated by the violent, no-name soldiers, but his ass was leaking, his new slit was leaking, his cock was already hard.

The guards brought him to the armory of a barracks as before—he felt fairly certain it was the same one, and later he felt it was confirmed by the fact that the voices of the soldiers and the alpha cocks looked and smelled and tasted similar. The guards stripped him bare and put him on the bench; then all the soldiers laughed at the sight of what was between his legs.

“Already an omega,” one of the voices crowed.

“Such a pretty pussy,” said another.

“It’s so pink,” said another.

“It’s so wet.”

“It’s dripping down his thighs.”

“Shut up,” said another voice. “Listen to the bitch moan for it!”

“Please,” Rulian was whispering, opening his legs of his own accord, showing the soldier the pussy they had laughed at. “Please.” He wasn’t even thinking of the sacrifice he was making for his brother at the moment. Instead, the only thing he could think of was the pulsing thickness between his legs, how desperately he needed an alpha knot to plug the ache inside him and pump him full of thick, heady alpha come.

His mouth was so wet that when he spoke, he couldn’t help but drool. “Please,” he begged. “Please put it in me; put it in me . . .”

They put it in him. They used his newly wet ass and his drooling mouth and finally, finally, his newly formed pussy. It hurt, at first. They hadn’t given him that potion, this time, even though Rulian felt fairly certain they had still been dosing his meals with whatever was helping him become omega. But today, he didn’t have that hazy feeling weakening his muscles, taking away the pain.

Instead, he had his alpha rut warring with a new omega heat, and the new opening between his legs was still not fully formed. He could feel himself ripping as the soldiers entered him, and there was blood, but the feeling of cock filling that new entrance was too thrilling for the pain to cause him to want to stop. Instead, he came immediately the moment he felt a knot began to form in his new pussy, and then he came again, and again as come pulsed inside of him, where it belonged. Then another alpha took him from behind, and another took his mouth, and still more cocks came to fill his hands, and for the next three days, Rulian experienced nothing but ecstasy.

Chapter Text

After his second heat/rut, Rulian received his first visitor in his private chambers.

The man was tall and strong-shouldered, though lean. He had a thick head of salt-and pepper hair and wore a well-trimmed beard under heavy eyebrows. About fifty years old, maybe sixty, he wore plain black robes, unlike the usual gaudy fashions of Severin’s court, and carried a large, leather case. Unable to detect a unique scent, Rulian could only conclude the new visitor was a beta. “I am Cuthred,” the visitor said, “Healer, Potions Master, and Adept. You may call me Healer Cuthred.”

“Pleasure,” said Rulian, who was still a man of few words. He supposed the fact that he had been sent a healer was a good sign. Even if the court planned to use his omega body for their own ill purposes, apparently they wanted him to remain healthy.

“I personally brewed the potions to attain your transformation,” Cuthred went on. “I hear you’re progressing well.”

Someone was monitoring Rulian’s progress, then. Who had ordered Cuthred to do so? The denizens of Severin’s court all seemed to ignore him; it had not even been clear to Rulian that they were behind his transformation or that they even knew it was occurring. Did Prince Severin even know about it? Was he himself responsible? Or had the order to deform him come from higher up—his brother the Crown Prince, or the King? Or had it come from this slick-looking, self-important man, Cuthred? Was he a power behind the throne?

Or had everyone forgotten Rulian’s existence, letting some random court magician mutate his body like an experiment, giving him to soldiers to play with like a toy?

Rulian felt the space between his legs flare with sudden heat. It ached after the treatment from the soldiers, but the doses of continual alpha come in the barracks had seemed to help it develop. The slit felt wider, deeper, but more secret still, layered in protective folds that remained continually damp and soft. His balls and cock felt even smaller.

Cuthred smiled at him knowingly. “Come,” he said, taking Rulian by the hand. “Sit down. Let me examine you.”

He led Rulian to the armchair, then pulled up the stool from the vanity for himself. Then he felt Rulian’s pulse and looked at both his eyes, tapping Rulian’s knees to check his reflexes. He put a hand on Rulian’s back and made him breathe, then came to the front again and looked at Rulian’s mouth. Between each of these checks, Cuthred turned to a leatherbound book, into which he wrote with a flowing black pen, apparently taking notes on Rulian’s condition.

His hand moved to the spot on Rulian’s neck where it flared into his collarbone, the place where his alpha scent gland had always been “Does this hurt?” Cuthred asked, pressing down on it.

“A little,” Rulian answered, and Cuthred jotted something in the book.

“The anatomy isn’t much different,” Cuthred said. “Omega and alpha scent glands produce similar hormones, just a small chemical difference between them results in their entirely different effects. Let me know if it ever aches.” Bending down, he removed two glass vials from the leather case, using them to collect a sample of Rulian’s saliva and a small sample of blood when he pricked Rulian’s finger.

“Everything in your upper half appears in good order,” Cuthred said, after these procedures, writing down a few more notes. “Now let’s check the lower. Stand over the bed, please, and lift your robes.”

For a moment, Rulian did not move. He should have expected this, of course. Cuthred was a healer checking on Rulian’s changing body, and the parts that had changed the most were all the hidden ones. That a healer was looking at these parts was a good thing, really, especially considering the way the soldiers had so recently torn him. Still, Rulian had not been prepared for the humiliation of it.

He certainly was not prepared for the way wetness flooded his new slit and began to leak out of his ass.

Swallowing, Rulian told himself that this was for his brother. Then he went over to the bed and bent over. He hiked up his robes, revealing the trousers beneath, and tried not to do anything that appeared eager, such as arch his back and thrust out his ass. Cuthred was only a beta anyway. Rulian wasn’t going to get another knot.

Just the thought of another knot made his whole mouth water.

Coming over to the bed, Cuthred pulled down Rulian’s linen trousers. “Oh, this is very good,” he said, sounding quite surprised. “You’ve progressed much more quickly than my other patients.” Then there were fingers on Rulian’s ass, sinking into the wetness. “Already leaking. How wonderful! You’ll be a very fine omega slut.”

Rulian jerked under the cool, clinical hands touching him. Something about you’ll be a very fine omega slut sounded so proud and pleased, exactly the way his brother used to praise him.

“There, there,” Cuthred said, using his other hand to smooth over Rulian’s flank. He acted as though he was calming a startled animal, as though he knew exactly what his words of praise had done. Was such a reaction expected of Cuthred’s “subjects,” others who were treated with this potion? Or did all omegas react in such a way to words like those?

He knew very little of omegas, Rulian was realizing, at least when it came to their bodies and their chemistry. He had known a few, though he really had very few close friends. Alberic knew plenty, but Rulian had purposely stayed far away from any omega Alberic grew close to. Since coming to Severin’s court, Rulian had been exposed to many more, but he had observed almost nothing during his time in court. His mind had always taken him to another place entirely until the moment he could slip away and pretend he had not seen the things his eyes had seen.

After a few long moments, Cuthred stopped the soothing rubbing, and said, “I’m going to check the development of these glands.” That was his only warning before his finger slipped inside.

“Oh,” Rulian said, breath releasing all at once.

Cuthred chuckled. “You really are almost an omega bitch. I bet I could make you come like this, couldn’t I?” His fingertip had found what could only be the gland producing slick, because once Cuthred’s finger brushed it, Rulian’s whole ass felt flooded.

Rulian couldn’t help but moan.

Cuthred laughed again. “That’s a clinical question. It’s important for me to assess your sensitivity, omega reactions, and reflections, as well as your anatomy and fluids, so I’ll ask you again: can you come from this?”

“Oh,” Rulian said, another breath startled out of him. He was resisting arching into it so desperately; he needed more. He needed cock. He needed a knot.

“Little princeling,” Cuthred said, sounding amused but also a little impatient. “I really do need an answer. Can you come?”

“Yes,” Rulian whispered, then arched his back, thrusting his ass into it. The healers finger jammed against the gland and slick gushed out of him, flowing down his ass. “Yes,” Rulian said more loudly, thrusting back again. “Yes—yes!”

Chuckling, Cuthred removed his finger. “Good boy, that’s what I thought.”

Rulian jerked against the bed at these words, and Cuthred slapped his rump.

“Stop that mindless humping, now,” he admonished. “I asked whether you could come; I didn’t ask you to come. You can be a good omega, can’t you?”

Cuthred was using that tone again, warm and encouraging, and Rulian could not help but think of his brother, teaching him the sword when Rulian had been so small, smaller than the other children of the court that were his age. “I know you can do this,” Alberic used to say to him. “You’re good at everything, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Rulian replied, unthinking.

“Good boy,” said Cuthred. A pause followed, his pen scratching in his book. “All right, I’ll need to collect another sample.” The clicking of another glass vial being drawn from the leather bag sounded. “I’m going to insert it into you to make sure I get enough—though that doesn’t look like it will be a problem. Remain very still, or the glass could shatter.”

Rulian froze. The feeling of the hard, cool glass slipping inside of him made him want to thrust against the bed all over again, but the vial slid inside quite easily, the slick allowing for a good slide, Rulian’s hole flaring open in welcome at the intrusion of something that was not alpha cock but could have been.

“Hm,” Cuthred said, contemplative. “I’ll need to fuck it into you to stimulate the glad to produce more slick. Don’t thrust back onto it like a helpless slut; do you understand? Learn some self-control! This is for your own good health.” Then the long, hard glass tube began to slide in and out of him, fucking Rulian’s ass just as Cuthred had described.

Rulian had been tortured once, when he was sixteen. Renegades from the western territories had captured him to force the king to pay a ransom, and the bandits were so discontent and twisted that they had thought that torture would incentivize the king to pay more. As it had turned out, no one knew what the king would have paid, because Alberic had appeared only three hours after the ransom letter had been sent, storming down the door to the small cellar and putting every one of those bandits to the sword. Still, Rulian had been whipped well enough to leave several scars. It was one of the only times Rulian had ever seen his brother cry.

That whipping was nothing next to the agony of attempting to hold himself still as he was fucked. Rulian’s hands were white-knuckled in the sheets, and he could hear himself moaning, continually. He sounded like some sort of wounded animal, some sort of squealing pig, and then at last it was too much for him. He was pushing back onto the vial, flooding it with his slick, dragging his cock against the bed—

And then the vial was gone, and Cuthred was slapping his ass again. “Just like a whore,” he said, then sighed. “I should have known. Bitched omegas are different than babies born as omegas—did you know that? Step out of these trousers.”

Cuthred had pulled Rulian’s trousers down to the floor. Ass still pulsing with need, Rulian was startled into compliance, stepping out of the legs of the trousers and onto the wood floor.

“Good slut.” Cuthred had picked up his book and was jotting something down in it, but he glanced at Rulian once he was naked. “Now, get on the bed.”

Rulian hesitated.

“I said, get on the bed.” Cuthred had turned back to notating. “Spread your legs and lift your robe. I need to check your cunt.”

Another spike of heat shot between Rulian’s legs, and he got up on the bed. The attention to his ass had naturally made the slit hotter and wetter. For some reason, the fact that Cuthred had referred to it as a cunt made it even hotter than that. It really was a cunt now, wasn’t it? He really was becoming a fully-fledged omega. Spreading his legs, he lifted his robe again.

“Spread them wider, like the whore you are,” Cuthred said, glancing up over the book.

Another pulse of wet heat flooding his new cunt, Rulian opened his legs wider.

Setting the book aside, Cuthred leaned in to look between Rulian’s tighs. “Amazing,” he said, sounding truly impressed. His palm slid from Rulian’s knee up into the sticky dampness coating Rulian’s thigh. “I could practically go swimming.”

“Yes,” Rulian agreed, then wondered why he’d said it. Cuthred hadn’t asked a “clinical question,” as he had before. It had merely been an observation.

The breathless reply made Cuthred chuckle. “As I was saying, bitched omegas are different.” His hand moved to pet the wet softness of Rulian’s exposed cunt, and Rulian shuddered. “Born omegas have heats every three or four months, just like an alpha rut. But bitched omegas—they’re always in heat.”

“I—what?” Instinctively, Rulian felt himself try to close his legs.

Laughing, Cuthred pried them open. “Keep your legs flopped open, where they belong—you won’t really be closing them much in the future, you know.”

“But . . .” Cuthred was still petting Rulian’s cunt, and concentration was difficult. But Rulian had to concentrate. Didn’t he? How could he live—every day—like those last few days in the soldiers’ barracks? By the end, he couldn’t even eat or drink real food; he only wanted cock; he could only stand to take cock—but he couldn’t survive on cock. Could he?”

Cuthred just chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking—you may never eat or sleep again, right? But it’s not like that, exactly. Most days will be like the first day or two of a born omega’s heat—bearable. You’ll be able to walk and talk, even if all you really want is to be flat on your back, pounded by alpha cock and flooded with alpha come. Oooh—there we go; that kind of talk gets you wet?”

It did get Rulian wet. Cuthred’s fingers were still outside Rulian’s folds, but Rulian knew he’d leaked right onto them.

“Come, my dear,” Cuthred said, his voice friendly and good natured as he continued to fondle the outside of Rulian’s cunt. “This is another clinical question. I really do need an answer. Does that kind of talk get this pretty cunt all slick and filthy?”

Though the way the question was worded made heat crawl into Rulian’s face, he could no longer resist answering. He did want to be good, after all. “Yes.”

“Very good,” Cuthred said, withdrawing the fingertip and patting the outside of Rulian’s cunt with his hand. Picking up his pen, he once more began to jot notes into the book, speaking while doing so. “Talk like that stimulating your pussy isn’t a result of your transformation, you know—that’s just you. I suspect, given how quickly you’re progressing, that you were a natural candidate for this. Plenty of alphas are almost born omegas—only a slight variation in conditions will result in one secondary gender or the other. It’s the whole reason bitching is possible. But you didn’t come for a science lesson, did you, princeling?” Setting down the book, he gave another comforting pat to Rulian’s damp cunt, and Rulian felt himself blush again.

“No, Healer Cuthred.”

“Good boy,” Cuthred said, smiling. “I’m going to play with your little cocklet a little, just to see how it’s working—do you mind?”

Rulian drew in a sharp breath. “You don’t need . . . a sample?”

“A sample of what?” Cuthred smiled pleasantly, and Rulian blushed harder.

“Of my—my . . . cunt.”

“There’s a smart lad,” Cuthred told him kindly, giving Rulian’s reduced cock a little tug. “I’ll definitely need a sample—you’re eager for that, aren’t you?”

Mutely, Rulian nodded, too humiliated to answer.

“Of course you are.” Cuthred gave Rulian’s cock another tug. “I just want to play with this a little while, make sure it’s in working order. I notice your balls have even begun to draw inward—is that right?”

Rulian nodded again.

“Do you miss them?”

Rulian hesitated, then shook his head.

Cuthred laughed. “A natural, like I said. Do you like me playing with this?” he asked, stroking the cock now. Though it was much smaller than it had been, it was hardly something Rulian felt deserved to be called a cocklet. It still extended past the length of Cuthred’s fist, and it was thick enough that Cuthred’s fingers didn’t wrap all the way around to touch his palm on the other side.

Still, though the stroking felt as good as stroking his cock had ever felt, Rulian hesitated. He liked it, but he’d harbored some secret thought about Cuthred using the glass vial in his cunt to collect a sample.

“You’re thinking about your pussy, aren’t you?” Cuthred asked.

Reluctantly, Rulian nodded.

As was his wont, Cuthred laughed, then took his hand off the cock to slap the side of Rulian’s thigh. Rulian had never been slapped so many times in his life. It felt incredibly good, and Cuthred turned to the side to jot more notes in his book.

Then Cuthred’s hand returned to Rulian’s cock. “You really are such a mindless slut. I wanted to tell you the rest of what I had to say, before you become such a cock-hungry whore that it goes in one ear and out the other.”

“Yes,” Rulian said breathlessly. He really didn’t have to respond, but he felt like Cuthred had changed something in him, as though Rulian could now not help but want to please Cuthred so that Cuthred would touch him more, and more, and more.

Cuthred threw his head back and laughed. “I’m glad you understand what a brainless bitch you are!”

Rulian felt his cheeks once more go hot. He hadn’t meant to agree to that, though he supposed—it was rather true.

“All I was going to say earlier,” Cuthred went on, increasing the speed of rubbing on Rulian’s cock, “was that you might want nothing more than to be a helpless cunt for alpha cock, but you won’t need to. You can eat, and sleep, and function. However, occasionally, you’ll have flare-ups into a full on, frenzied heat—this takes two forms. First, while you’re being bitched an overdose of alpha come, particularly from different alphas, will induce it. That is, the kind of treatment our good soldiers have been showing you at the barracks is exactly the sort of treatment that will induce a full-on heat, no matter how recently you’ve had one. I’m sure you’ve noticed how it gets worse before it gets better?”

Rulian shifted under Cuthred’s hand. His skin was growing hot, his cock aching more and more as Cuthred stroked. Rulian could feel orgasm building and tried to hold it down like a good boy—not like a brainless bitch. He nodded to show Cuthred he could still listen, then said, “Yes, Healer Cuthred.”

“Good slut. Those heats with your soldier boys are quickening your transition, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But after you’re fully bitched, the primary cause of a heat would be abstinence. If a born omega goes without sex, they’re usually fine, except during heat—and even during heat, a born omega can survive alone, though it’s about as unpleasant as an alpha experiencing a rut alone. But for a bitched omega—if they go too long without being properly bred, when they do get fucked, it sends them into full-on heat. The longer the period of abstinence, the more intense the heat. And be very careful, princeling. If the period of abstinence is too long, they’ll almost surely die.”

“Yes,” Rulian breathed. “Yes, Healer Cuthred.” He shifted again, trying to arch up into Cuthred’s hand. “Yes—yes—Healer Cuthred—yes yes yes—”

Cuthred laughed. “All right then, you insatiable little slut. You’ve been good.” Then he removed his hand, and Rulian moaned in pain. The clink of glass sounded, then suddenly, something cool was touching Rulian’s cockhead. “Go ahead and dribble into this for me, bitch.”

Rulian groaned, the came, thrusting against the vial as Cuthred laughed and cleaned up the come, scooping it into the vial where Rulian had missed.

Cuthred was right. It really was like a dribble, the come far more watery and weak than Rulian used to ejaculate.

Staring at the vial as Cuthred capped it, Rulian eventually regained his breath, and a few pieces of his sanity. He swallowed. “Will it,” he began, then stopped. He gestured at his cock. “Will this stop working?”

“What? Oh, no!” Cuthred said, smiling, as he tucked the sealed vial into his bag. “You’re a man, aren’t you?”

Rulian licked his lips.

“This come just won’t do anything—you saw how watery and weak it is. The cocklet will shrink a little more, and your balls will tuck up entirely, but any alpha who likes to play with such things will surely want to give it a little tweak now and then—don’t worry.” Glancing down, Cuthred laughed. “Oh, did me talking like that soak your cunt again? I noticed you opened your legs wider.”

Rulian had to turned his face away. “Yes, Healer Cuthred,” he said, biting his lip.

“Such a good princeling.” Turning away, Cuthred wrote down more notes, the pen scratching on the parchment as Rulian waited, biting his lower lip, his legs splayed whorishly open. “Now’s the part I’m sure you’ve been waiting for—I have to check the development of your womb.” Then he drew a long metal tool out of the leather case. It looked sort of like the tongs used to move wood in a fire or to pick of slices of meat from a roasting spit.

“My . . . womb?” Though the tool looked deeply wicked, Rulian felt his cunt pulse once more, that pooling wetness reacting either to the tool or the thought of his womb, or both.

“Oh my dear,” Cuthred said, sounding sympathetic. “None of my bitched omegas have ever developed to the point of growing their own eggs—omegas and women are born with those, you know, and while theoretically, the transformation process should work to transform alpha sperm to eggs, so far that just hasn’t worked. They’re quite different anatomically, you know. Is that a disappointment?”

“I . . . don’t know,” Rulian answered honestly.

“That’s fine.” Cuthred’s hand was back on Rulian’s cunt, petting the warm wet folds soothingly. “However, most bitched omegas I’ve created and studied did develop at least a rudimentary womb. Even though it can’t be used for bearing children, it’s wonderful in sustaining the chemical processes that fuel the glands in your ass and pussy—especially the pussy. You want a nice, healthy pussy, don’t you?”

Rulian felt his breath catch. “Yes, Healer Cuthred.”

“That’s all right, sweetheart,” Cuthred said, and Rulian felt his whole pussy dissolve into a puddle at the name.

Why did a sweet thing from Cuthred feel so right, when he was a stranger still? Rulian didn’t know him. He didn’t even like him; Rulian found him manipulative and strange and condescending, not to mention an absolute moral degenerate—fondling a patient. Using a patient! Bitching alphas! Treating them like specimens!

And yet just the thought of such treatment under Cuthred’s hands made Rulian feel hotter still, and Cuthred was a beta. Was this what Cuthred had meant? Was Rulian going to be like this all the time? With everyone? Melting? Subservient? Desperately turned on?

Easy?

“That works for you too, doesn’t it?” Cuthred said softly. “Silver Prince of Luoth just likes to be called sweet things.”

“Yes,” Rulian said breathlessly. He was almost panting, and Cuthred was still petting his pussy.

Cuthred huffed a soft little laugh. “That’s all right, honey. This is already a very, very good pussy for me. I need you to focus on this sweet cunt—can you do that? I need it to get as wet as possible, so when I slide in this clamp, it feels nice and sweet and doesn’t hurt you at all, all right? I notice our good soldier boys were pretty rough with this cunt. You’re still torn a little, and we don’t want to tear you more, okay?”

“Okay.” Rulian gulped. He spread his legs wider. “Yes.”

“Good. Look at how wet you’ve gotten for me. Let me see it.” Then Healer Cuthred brought Rulian’s rump to the edge of the bed, opening his legs wide. Kneeling on the floor, Cuthred’s face came to be even with Rulian’s new cunt. “Oh, yes,” Cuthred went on, talking in that soft voice. “It smells just like omega cunt. You’ve got a nice, thick sweet scent. Let’s see what we have here.” Then his fingers were parting the folds, revealing that hole inside Rulian so recently formed, so hidden by soft wet flesh. For a while, Cuthred simply looked, holding Rulian open, his warm breath puffing on Rulian’s achingly exposed cunt.

It went on for too long. Rulian wanted to close his legs. He wanted to hump his brand new cunt right into Cuthred’s face. He wanted, more than anything, to be fucked. Rulian couldn’t help himself. He heard himself whine. Then he said, “Please.”

“Hm?” Cuthred said, surfacing from between Rulian’s thighs. “‘Please’ what?”

“Please, I need . . .” Rulian couldn’t bear to beg for it.

Healer Cuthred dipped back down between Rulian’s thighs, and his warm laugh huffed directly into the cunt Cuthred was still holding open.

Again unable to help himself, Rulian moaned and closed his thighs around Cuthred’s head, locking him in.

Laughing, Cuthred prized Rulian’s thighs back apart. “You really are the most helpless little bitch,” he laughed. “Okay, okay, princeling. You can have what you want. I’m going to slide this in to hold you open, then see what I can see of your little body, okay?”

“Yes,” Rulian moaned, turning his head on the bed, still trying to close his thighs around him. Cuthred was playing with his cunt, slipping a finger inside finally, finally, and then the coldness of metal touched inside, and Rulian’s whole body jerked.

“Steady,” Healer Cuthred murmured into his cunt. “Steady, little omega, we’re going to slide it in just like that . . .”

The metal eased its way inside, cold and hard, and Rulian felt ready for it, so ready, the length of it steady and reassuring, his body already warming it.

Then Healer Cuthred had inserted it to his desired depth, and the opened the clamp.

Rulian felt his whole pussy open, gaping and exposed, the dark, secret depth of him open for Cuthred’s eyes and Cuthred’s alone. Just the thought of it made Rulian so wet he thought the clamp might slide right out but for Healer Cuthred holding onto it, keeping him open.

Chuckling, Cuthred admonished, “Can you even stop flooding your own pussy for just one moment? You’re dripping all over this nice view.”

The nice view was Rulian’s new pussy. Gritting his teeth, he tossed his head on the bed, straining not to fuck into Cuthred’s face. Rulian was so wet, so open; he needed—he needed cock, any cock; it could be Cuthred’s; he moaned. “Please. Please, Healer Cuthred, please—”

Healer Cuthred laughed again. “All right, all right. Just let me . . .” A moment, passed, then some sounds, and then—something was entering, something long and soft that bumped against Rulian’s new inner walls.

It was something long enough to fuck him, and Rulian moaned again, twisting on the bed.

“You poor thing,” Cuthred cooed. “It’s not a cock, just something to collect a sample. Try to control yourself just a little more, sweet slut; we’re almost done. Got it.” Then he drew the soft thing out and the clamp as well, and Rulian felt his pussy squeeze closed, seeking its own warmth and wet.

Rulian couldn’t tell if he was relieved or not. It felt good to no longer have air entering him, but he still needed—something, a knot, come, anything.

“You’ve really progressed much further than anyone has any right to expect,” Cuthred went on, picking up his pen and jotting things down in the book. “From what I could glimpse, the womb is almost fully developed—unheard of after only two chemically induced heats. We might want to think of a way to slow you down somehow. I don’t know what would happen with an overbalanced omega, but I’ve predicted an endless heat that can’t be satisfied—and we don’t want that; it’d kill you. I do want to see if I can get a closer look. I didn’t think I’d need it on this visit, but luckily, I’ve brought it along.”

Rulian propped himself up a little, watching with his legs open at the edge of the bed as Cuthred rooted around in the leather bag.

“Ah, here we are.” He took out a long brass tube about a foot long and an inch and a half in diameter.

As though on cue, Rulian’s pussy pulsed, flooding his folds once more with omega slick. He didn’t know what the tube was. He did know that it had the perfect dimensions to fit inside of him, and instantly, he wanted it. He felt like he would do anything to get it. He might cry.

Cuthred laughed. “Look at you! You really are insatiable, aren’t you?” Then he began to rub the tube at one end, up and down within the ring of his fingers, exactly as he had stroked Rulian’s smaller cock. As though reminded of this as well, Cuthred smiled. “Do you wish this was your cocklet, pet?”

Rulian shook his head. “No, Healer Cuthred.” He could feel that his cheeks were pink, but he was watching too closely to feel embarrassed. The only thing he could think about was how to convince Cuthred to put this tool he was touching just like a cock inside his pussy.

“I see. You want it inside, don’t you?”

Rulian nodded quickly.

Cuthred just chuckled. “All right, all right, fine. So demanding. Just give it a moment, and—ah.” The end Cuthred had been rubbing began to glow.

Magic.

“This is a monocular,” Master Cuthred explained. “It allows me to see inside you more closely than the speculum, but I need the luminescence to see clearly.”

Rulian nodded his head avidly.

Cuthred laughed at him again. “You have no idea what I just said, do you?”

Rulian shook his head, opening his legs a little wider for the thing to enter him.

Giving a long suffering sigh, Healer Cuthred got back on his knees, positioning himself once more between Rulian’s thighs. “Poor little slut,” Cuthred cooed. “I shouldn’t be expecting a little slut like you to understand big words when you’re in such a state. Now, stay still—I need to actually see.”

Then, without any further preamble, Cuthred began to shove the brass tube inside, holding the other end against his eye.

It felt thick. It felt full. It felt cold and hard and as unlike alpha cock as a metal tube could. It felt miraculous, and Rulian finally, finally, had something thick enough inside him since the feeling of Cuthred’s fingers in his ass, which felt like hours ago. Rulian moaned. He couldn’t help himself. He tried to grab the tube to shove it in harder. Cuthred batted his hands away. Rulian tried for it again, and when he was again denied, he lifted his hips, moving his thighs to try to work it in. He began to work his pelvis against the bed, up and down; he was writhing, moaning, tossing and turning upon the sheet, begging, begging. “Please,” Rulian panted. “Please.”

“I said hold still,” Cuthred snapped.

“I—can’t,” Rulian realized, breathlessly. “Oh,” he gasped. “I—I can’t; I need it; I need it—let me. Let me . . .”

“Oh, fine,” Cuthred huffed, standing up. “Fuck yourself like the helpless little bitch you are; I got what I needed.” Then he was turning back to his book, and Rulian could grip the tube himself.

He did. He fucked himself with it, driving it into himself hard and deep, moaning for it, choking on the moans, finally, finally getting some relief, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t cock; it wasn’t alpha cock, and he needed it so badly; he needed it so, so badly. When he finally came all over the metal tube, his pussy convulsing wildly, Cuthred was calmly jotting down notes, and Rulian was crying.

“There, there,” Cuthred said soothingly, once Rulian was mostly done, catching his breath as his pussy squeezed convulsively around the rod. “You dumb bitch,” he added, sliding out the rod. “You really thought that would make a cunt like yours feel any better? You really will just fuck yourself with anything, won’t you?”

Rulian felt himself nod, somewhat sadly. He was a dumb bitch. The brass tube had felt so necessary, but as soon as Cuthred had given it to him, it wasn’t enough. “Can I . . .?” he said weakly. Then he pawed weakly at Cuthred’s robe.

“Can you what?” Cuthred asked.

“Can I suck . . .” Rulian pawed some more. “I want . . . I need your cock. In me.”

“Even though you think I’m a beta?” Cuthred asked.

“Think?” Rulian repeated. He was a dumb bitch, he remembered, but he wasn’t quite sure why that was relevant.

“I smell like a beta, don’t I?”

Mutely, Rulian nodded.

“I have to.” Cuthred sighed. “I could never get through an exam like this if I don’t drink a blocking potion and use masking elixir to cover my scent.”

“Blocking . . . potion?”

Cuthred moved to extract the brass tube, pulling it out of Rulian’s cunt without ceremony. “Yes,” he said, wiping down the tube with a cloth. “It’s a potion I developed so that alphas could get work done without needy cunts like you distracting us. A born omega in heat will still react to an alpha as though they’re an alpha, but the rest of the time, most people really can’t tell. But you did, a little, didn’t you? You really reacted to me as an omega to an alpha almost right away. I’ve found my other bitched omegas pliable, but none quite so servile as you. You really like to please, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Rulian breathed. He twisted his body, clawing at Cuthred’s robes, now, frantic. “Yes, Healer Cuthred, yes, please—please—can I—I need—I need cock; can you give me—your knot—”

“Poor thing,” Cuthred soothed again, pushing Rulian’s hands away, petting his brow. “I’ve really made you so worked up, haven’t I? But I can’t knot you while I’m on the potion—part of the point, really—and I still have some data to collect.”

“Data?” Rulian asked, clueless. “Data?” He didn’t understand.

Cuthred sighed. “You’re really in a state, aren’t you? We didn’t talk as much about the abstinence issue as I meant to. I wanted to let you know, once you’re fully bitched, you really shouldn’t go longer than eight to twelve hours without at least a helping of alpha come—preferably from the source. At this point in your transformation, I had thought you might still be able to go a week or two, but now I’m worried with how pathetically you’ve begged throughout this appointment that you can’t even last a day, can you?”

“No,” Rulian said. “I’m—begging. For your cock. Please, please—”

“All right, calm down.” Healer Cuthred sounded aggravated but also vaguely amused. “Let’s make use of those two bodyguards.”

Rulian felt his whole heart lift. His bodyguards were alphas. They’d been standing just outside the door this whole time; they’d let Cuthred enter! Had they heard Rulian’s mindless begging? Had they heard him fuck himself with the metal rod? Did they smell his scent and—want him?

Was Rulian releasing omega pheromones, causing his alpha bodyguards’ cocks to grow thick and swell, readying themselves for Rulian’s dripping wet omega cunt? The thought was heady. He was already drooling—but. But.

Did this mean Cuthred wasn’t even going to touch him? And Cuthred was an alpha to boot? His cock was probably so thick, so big, so good. Rulian found himself longing for just the sight of it. He just wanted to hold it in his hand; that was all, just feel the silky skin of it, and maybe—a little taste—

Cuthred was talking.

“They’re low-grade alphas,” Master Cuthred said. “Weak scents, almost certainly sterile. Makes a good service alpha; you can use them whenever you need. If they get tired of you—which I can imagine happening; you really are insatiable, and weak alphas can barely satisfy a born omega in heat, much less the constant sluttiness of a bitched omega like you—I can find you some other service alphas. How does that sound?”

“Yes,” Rulian said. “Good.”

“All right,” said Cuthred. “I’ll get those two to help with your mouth and ass while I finish up with your pussy. Sound good?”

“Y-yes,” Rulian breathed, his voice stuttering in excitement.

“Good.” Smiling, Cuthred went to the door and called the two guards in.

Their names were Wardlaw and Frithugis. Rulian had learned both of their names as well as everything about them that he could, because he had always been observant in that way, taking in more than most people ever expected of him. Despite all this, Rulian hadn’t given much thought to the fact that they were alphas. They’d always seemed to fade into the background, and Rulian had realized early on that the court found them completely unimportant. Even the soldiers in the barracks had dismissed them, as though they really weren’t worth anybody’s time.

Both Wardlaw and Frithugis were tall, one burly, the other lean, both well-muscled. They were going to fuck him. They were going to fuck him. Rulian’s pussy, even though recently fucked by the metal road, felt molten hot in excitement.

“This omega needs breeding,” Cuthred told them, “and quickly. You,” he told Frithugis, the lean one. “Take his mouth. Down his throat. Knot it if you can. And you,” he told Wardlaw, the burly one. “Take his ass. I’m going to be busy with his pussy, so give me room.”

Frithugis looked from Rulian, disheveled on the bed with his pants off and his robe up around his armpits, to Master Cuthred, surprised. Wardlaw was already taking off his clothes. “Yes, Healer Cuthred,” Frithugis said, still surprised, but then Wardlaw was already climbing onto the bed, rolling Rulian’s body over.

Rulian didn’t even have time to lift his ass and present, even though his instincts told him to. Wardlaw’s thick, alpha cock was already sliding into him, and the man that had kept watch over Rulian these past three months, who had delivered him to be raped by all those soldiers in the barracks, steadily began to fuck him.

Rulian heard how his moan sounded: the long, throaty moan of a whore. Hearing his own moans made his ass and cunt pump more slick, spilling onto the alpha cock working inside him, so Rulian moaned again, and again.

“Get to it,” Healer Cuthred snapped, sounding harried. “Shut him up.”

“Yes,” Rulian moaned. “Yes, yes, yes . . .”

Then, finally, Frithugis was there, rolling Rulian over so that he was on top of Wardlaw, who was still fucking him. Frithugis climbed over Rulian’s face, and Rulian’s jaw automatically dropped open to take Frithugis’s cock. It filled his mouth, thick and heavy and everything that Rulian had ever needed, everything he’d been hoping for for hours.

Then at last, Cuthred was there, sliding yet another glass vial into Rulian’s cunt, and Rulian jerked down onto it, trying to get more of the delicate glass even while his bodyguard pounded into his ass from beneath him. Rulian understood why Cuthred had chosen Wardlaw to work Rulian’s ass; the man could lift Rulian up and down on his cock, even with Frithugis riding his face, and Rulian thought he was in heaven. He was in heaven, his pussy pouring slick into the cold glass vial for Cuthred. The only thing better would be if he could have Cuthred’s cock, but it seemed to matter much less now that Rulian had these other alphas filling him, completing him, breeding him.

Then at last the glass vial slid out. “There’s just one last test,” Healer Cuthred said as Rulian moaned between the cocks fucking him. “I always check for taste.”

Then Cuthred put his mouth on Rulian’s pussy just as Wardlaw’s knot began to expand from behind, and Rulian writhed, pushing himself down onto the knot, down onto Cuthred’s face, Cuthred’s tongue, Cuthred’s scratchy beard against Rulian’s soft creamy thighs—

Then Rulian was fully knotted in the ass, Wardlaw grunting heavily and holding him in place, and Cuthred was coming up for air. “You fucking bitch,” said Cuthred’s wondering voice. “You taste as sweet as . . .” He trailed off. “You there, fucking that slut mouth; stop. Come taste this bitch’s cunt.”

“Wha . . .?” Frithugis was halfway down Rulian’s throat, but he stopped to look over his shoulder.

“I said,” Cuthred said, putting a hand on Frithugis neck and pulling him down, “come taste this bitch’s cunt. It’s like a fucking . . . honeycomb.”

Pulled by Cuthred’s hand, Frithugis toppled a bit, but at last managed to dismount as Cuthred moved aside.

“Yes,” Rulian whimpered, spreading his legs for Frithugis to get between them. “Yes, please . . .”

Hand on Frithugis’s neck, Cuthred guided Frithugis down between Rulian’s open thighs, and Rulian tried to tip his hips up, not succeeding much, his ass still firmly knotted from behind. Obediently, Frithugis dipped in for a taste. He made a sound. Then he opened his mouth wide, plunging his tongue in deep. He’d obviously had omega pussy before, and Rulian moaned, locking his thighs around Frithugis’s head, holding him in to feast on his pussy.

“That’s enough now,” Cuthred said, pulling Frithugis away. “The bitch is moaning. Go and shut him up. Tastes good, right?”

“It’s . . .” Frithugis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s yeah, tastes like my wife when she’s pregnant. Can’t get enough of that shit. It’s like . . . nectar.”

“When she’s pregnant, you say? Here, slut,” Master Cuthred went on, taking Rulian’s hand. “Make yourself useful. Get this pussy slick on your fingers and feed it to that brute behind you. He should taste it too.”

Rulian started to moan again, but Frithugis hastily plugged his mouth with alpha cock. Rulian moaned harder, vocal cords vibrating around the thick length in his throat, but he did as Cuthred said, rubbing himself with his hand until it was messy, slick, and sticky, then reaching upward awkwardly to the face of the man under him. Rulian’s sticky wet fingers felt around for Wardlaw’s mouth, until Wardlaw grabbed his hand and sucked his fingers.

Rulian bucked on the knot inside him, chocking on the cock in his throat as his fingers dipped into a wet, hot alpha mouth.

“Mmph,” Wardlaw grunted, drawing the fingers back out. “Yeah, tastes like—like omega milk. The sweet kind. You know, the kind you get from virgins.”

“Hm.” Master Cuthred sounded contemplative. “And virgin milk . . . I know if omega tits are stimulated enough, even if they’re unbred, they produce milk—but are you sure you’ve had it? The ones I’ve had were watery. It’s been a while since I tasted pregnant omega pussy. I’ll have one brought to me.”

Hearing this, Rulian squirmed, heat searing through him. He loved the idea that Cuthred could simply have an omega brought to him; he wished that he could be brought to Cuthred, served up on a platter.

Cuthred went on, “This is . . . it’s so sweet and thick, just like . . . hm.”

Then he was back between Rulian’s thighs, and Frithugis was beginning to knot Rulian’s mouth. It really was too big for Rulian’s jaw to get around, but he tried, and Frithugis tried too, forcing the knot down onto Rulian’s lips so that he could not close his mouth even had he wanted to.

Cuthred lapped at Rulian’s cunt as Frithugis come began to pump inexorably down Rulian’s throat, filling him until Rulian felt like Frithugis’s come was spilling into the come pumped in from the cock locked inside his ass. Rulian’s whole system was flushed with it, alpha come, and Cuthred continued to feast on Rulian’s pussy, Rulian’s bitch pussy, his hot, wet, omega cunt.

Rulian knew what Cuthred wanted. He wanted Rulian to come on Cuthred’s tongue so Cuthred could test whether Rulian’s cunt tasted different then, and Rulian really wanted to be good for Cuthred and give him what he wanted. Letting go of all thought, Rulian drifted on the sensation of the come pumping into him, filling him and filling him, and dreamed. Letting go like that, Rulian couldn’t help himself. He put his hands in Cuthred’s thick salt-and-pepper hair, then fucked himself against his Cuthred’s face, letting the contents of his bitch pussy pour into Cuthred’s throat.

Cuthred gave a little sound like approval, tongue thrusting sharply inside to fill Rulian’s emptiness. Rulian pretended it was his Cuthred’s thick cock, filling him up, and he was a full omega, good for nothing else, and then he came, thighs locked around his Cuthred’s face.

“This slut’s done,” Cuthred said, pulling away from Rulian’s pussy before Rulian was even finished coming. Giving a hard, affectionate slap to the side of Rulian’s thigh, Cuthred went on, “You there, fucking his mouth. Come and fuck that knot into this pussy—I’ve left it wide open for you; it’s loose enough.” Tugging on Frithugis’s neck again, Cuthred pulled him out of Rulian’s mouth.

Frithugis moved down Rulian’s body, hasty to comply.

“Don’t go easy, now,” Cuthred admonished, slapping Frithugis’s flank as Frithugis plunged his cock in.

Frithugis groaned, whether due to Rulian’s hot cunt or Cuthred slapping him on the ass and telling him what to do just like Frithugis was some kind of beta, Rulian couldn’t tell. Maybe low-grade alphas like him responded to superior alphas like Cuthred, Rulian thought somewhat deliriously.

“Bitched omegas need breaking in,” Cuthred added, then turned to jot more notes down into his book.

Cuthred was right; Rulian needed breaking in. He was wide open but taking the knot this way still hurt. It was so much easier when the knot grew inside him, but at last the knot was firmly wedged inside, and alpha come was flowing into Rulian’s body both front and back. He was stuffed so full and hot, nothing more than a conduit for come. He moaned with abandon, now, sounding whorish, sounding exactly like the brainless bitch that Cuthred had called him, and he was. He really was.

Cuthred turned, rummaging once more in his leather case. “Use this ointment if he tears you,” Cuthred went on, drawing out a sealed jar. “I recommend using it anyway; it will keep the snatch nice and tight. Seems like something a bitch like you would need.”

Rulian looked at him, eyes wide, knowing he should pay attention to the words of the healer, but it felt so hard. He felt so good, both cocks still pumping into him. “Mm,” was all he managed, feeling a little drunk.

Cuthred just laughed, patting his cheek. “I’ll check on that taste and visit after your next heat, all right? Be a good little slut until then.”

Then Cuthred packed away his equipment and left Rulian there, knotted between his body guards, shuddering in ecstasy as he was filled, and filled.

Chapter Text

The guards didn’t really feel like guards after that.

They still escorted Rulian about the palace, but they didn’t seem to watch him closely. He could wander off on his own all he wanted. The guards’ true purpose, Rulian now realized, was to fuck him through his transition into a bitched omega, not to prevent him from escaping.

Where would he escape to, anyway? Anywhere Rulian went, he would need a healthy alpha cock to plug up his holes, and being forced to find cock on his own every time he needed it sounded like torture. Having cocks follow him continually was much more convenient, and Rulian settled into his new life with relative comfort and ease, ass, pussy, and mouth continually serviced by his bodyguards.

Rulian didn’t need them every day as Cuthred had predicted. Some days he could feel his new cunt and ass leaking, but they didn’t particularly feel like they needed to be filled. Other days he called his guards in and they fucked for hours. Whenever Rulian wrote letters to or received letters from his brother, he needed particular attention.

Most of Alberic’s missives were full of political news. The peace was holding, the west rebuilding. Chancellor Osfrith had at finally been stripped of all titles, but their father had pardoned Lord Leofwine of Tairn for the rebellion, still needing the support of Leofwine’s nobles and his coffers to keep lines of trade flowing to the capital.

Alberic’s letters had always been sparse. When Rulian was fourteen, his brother had studied overseas. Even at that time Alberic’s letters had been articulate but choppy, short and to the point. This was also Alberic’s style of command, without flourish or unnecessary droning, but his manner was so affable, his presence so charismatic, that he never came across as short or too direct. In writing, however, their tutors had accused Alberic of being too dry, praising Rulian’s eloquence with a pen instead.

But reading these letters, Rulian found that Alberic had made some effort not at eloquence but to inject emotion into it. “I miss you,” he wrote in one letter. “The palace is not the same without you,” he wrote in another. Then, in another letter he must have written late at night, probably deep in cups if the sloppiness of the script was any indication, he’d actually written, “The kingdom weeps for you; its heart bleeds.”

Rulian was so wet after reading it that he actually made a mess of his robes. Luckily both guards loved the taste of his pussy, just as Cuthred had, so they were very good at cleaning up his such situations.

With his great deal of free time, Rulian wondered what his future would look like. Would he be expected to attend the court when he was fully bitched? Would he become like the other omegas there?

Omegas of Severin’s court not only served alpha cock; they also served food and tea and fluffed cushions for their alphas, fanning them when it was hot, arranging fires when it was cold. Some of them danced; others played instruments and sang.

Whenever an alpha was interested, however, none of them ever hesitated to lay back and spread their legs, no matter who approached or how many. Sometimes this resulted in a quick blow-job in a corner. Other times it resulted in a train of a dozen alphas, fucking an omega cunt one after another, the sweet, heady sounds of omega moans and soft squeals mixing with the sounds of songs and squelch of fucking. The hot, heavy scent of omega slick and alpha come would roil in the room, twirling into the sickly sweet scent of incense Severin’s court preferred.

Rulian had hated the scent at first. It had made him vaguely ill. Now just the thought of it made him wet, his pussy aching, needy for the alpha come that he could smell. No wonder these omegas were so willing; the very air was intoxicating.

Prince Severin obviously preferred it this way. He, more than any of the others, was always eager to spread an omega’s thighs and dive between them. Rulian felt that he understood why. He’d already noticed that Prince Severin’s cock was heavy and large. He must need to relieve in frequently in soft omega cunt, and the very thought of it made Rulian’s pussy squeeze tight and soft and wet.

Rulian wondered whether the fate of these court omegas would be his own fate. Would he serve the alphas of Severin’s court, pouring tea and strumming lyres and spreading his thighs for anyone who wanted him? The thought made his pussy squeeze tighter, pulsing. He wondered when that day would come. Would Cuthred have to pronounce him a fully bitched omega? And when Cuthred gave the word—then would these alphas want him?

Would he then dress the part? Should he begin to do that now? These omegas enticed the alphas partly with the silks they wore, revealing flashes of thighs, round arms, child-bearing bellies. Many of the court omegas were pregnant, but they still dressed to tempt, showing off curves and allowing easy access to the secrets between their thighs. They all looked so very luscious, so ready to be fucked.

Rulian wanted to look like them.

His body was continuing to change. His balls tucked in entirely, disappearing, though the cock at the fore of his pussy, where a woman’s clit would be, didn’t grow much smaller than it already had. His pussy was fully developed now, stretching easily to accommodate the girth of alpha cock without tearing. Rulian assiduously applied the ointment so that his cunt would remain tight, and it made him sleek and snug around his guards’ cocks whenever they took him.

It was the rest of his body that changed more. Rulian had wondered whether he would grow tits, but Cuthred told him in a later visit that this was not a common effect of bitched male omegas. He still seemed a little surprised it hadn’t happened to Rulian, given that Rulian’s development was so singular, but Rulian’s nipples did grow puffier and a great deal more sensitive.

The biggest difference in his body was that it grew much softer. His body had always been hard and lean, but this had been a result of muscle training with his sword and later, the constant exercise of battle. Anyone might have expected that without such activities, their muscles would lose some definition, but this was more than that.

Diet could perhaps be blamed. When once Rulian had eaten hardy meals and spicy foods, now sweet things were the only things he craved. He wanted cakes. He wanted fruit. He wanted nectar and pastries and sweet cream. He had to force himself to eat proteins, until finally the guards began to bring him honeyed chicken and candied pork, nuts powdered with sugar and legumes prepared with clotted cream.

The foods may have changed Rulian’s shape, but they did not determine distribution. That must have been his new omega chemicals, making his thighs so soft and plump and round, filling out his ass until it was as round and full as a fresh peach.

Two more heats passed, and Healer Cuthred checked up on Rulian after each. Rulian looked forward to the check-ups as much as the trips to the barracks. For each visit, Cuthred continued to wear blockers, muting his alpha scent and pheromones. Each time, however, Rulian still succumbed to need, his body responding to Cuthred eventually as though an alpha had commanded him, as though he was in the presence of the alpha cock and alpha come he’d begun to rely on so heavily.

Each visit, Cuthred fingered Rulian’s ass to note the development of the anal glands, then pushed a vial inside to collect his specimen. Then he played with Rulian’s cock until it dribbled come into another sample vial, Cuthred teasing him each time about how small and worthless his cocklet had become. Last, Cuthred insert the cold metal clamp into Rulian’s pussy, peering inside of his body and collecting more samples with the soft rod, then inserting the glowing metal tube so that he could look at Rulian’s womb. Each time, though he tried to control himself, Rulian lost it by then, trying to grab the metal tube to drive it deeper inside. Cuthred always laughed at him, eventually indulging Rulian’s slutty tendencies and letting him fuck himself with it, after which Cuthred fucked him with a final vial to collect another sample.

The healer always saved tasting for last. He wasn’t able to explain Rulian’s apparently unique taste, but Cuthred really did enjoy it, enlisting Rulian’s guards to come fuck his other holes while Cuthred indulged himself on Rulian’s tasty cunt. Each visit left Rulian blissed out and full of hope that he was almost a proper omega now.

The time must be drawing near. After his last heat, Rulian had begun to need his pussy serviced every day, just as Cuthred had predicted—sometimes even more frequently than that. The feeling was just as the healer had described, a low-level heat. An ache built between his legs whenever he wasn’t serviced promptly in the morning, making it difficult to concentrate on other tasks, and his guards usually serviced him again at night so that he would not awake aching and needy, moaning pitifully into his soaked sheets

During the day, Rulian could focus on reading or his walks in the gardens or the other activities with which he had previously occupied himself, but a part of his mind was always on the wet heat between his legs and when he would take his next dose of alpha cock. It was not an unpleasant feeling, and Rulian found himself enjoying life in new ways. The gardens smelled richer. Food tasted sweeter. The flowers he fondled with an idle hand felt softer. The dark was kinder and firelight was more golden, though he began to find the sun quite tiresome. Sleep was beautiful. He found himself more and more comfortable with simply doing nothing, listening to the sound of birds, his mind floating as his pussy leaked, and leaked.

After the third heat, the guards had stopped taking Rulian to court. At first, he’d been relieved. It was getting harder and harder to smell the scent of sex and listen to omega moans and alphas grunting as they took what was theirs, without prostrating himself on the cushions on the floor and demanding he be taken instead. The night before his guards stopped taking him to court, one of the alphas at the orgy had been in rut, and Rulian had feared he would leave a puddle of slick in his chair before the night was over.

Later, however, he felt disappointment at his exclusion. He wanted to be on those cushions on the floor, taken by new alphas every night. Did they have something else in store for him? Or was it just that his transition was not complete, and none of the alphas who attended the royal court wanted to risk contamination of their alpha cocks by putting them inside the body of one who might still have lingering traces of alpha chemicals?

But at the end of six months, Rulian felt very certain there was nothing of an alpha left in him. He was fully omega, with a full omega body and full omega mind. Though he still thought of himself as the same person, many of the things that had once concerned him no longer did. He had been so determined all his life to match Alberic in skill with the sword. He’d been so determined to prove himself in battle. Despite the fact that he had never excelled in politics, he’d taken keen interest in affairs of state, determined to make his kingdom a better place to live.

Now Rulian had no kingdom. There were no battles to fight, and his brother was very far away. Rulian had always enjoyed poetry and plays much more than politics, which he could not influence or touch in his current position. Now he would never be able to, and as for physical activities—well. There was a certain physical activity that took most if not all his energies and power of exertion. He thought, occasionally, that he would still like to shoot a bow and swing a sword, but not for any purpose other than idle entertainment. He might still like to swim, as he had always used to do.

Yet he felt content, picking flowers, eating, listening to the minstrels in the gardens, occasionally painting. He didn’t really have time for much more than that, too distracted by what was between his legs to really concentrate on much more. Half of the time, when he was idling, reading books or thinking about some project, he’d become too distracted by his own pussy to complete a task.

On his latest visit, Healer Cuthred had given him a smooth, ivory rod to play with, and Rulian had really devoted great deal of time to it. It was nothing to alpha cock, but Rulian didn’t use it as a substitute. When he needed alpha cock, his guards were only too obliging. But when Rulian was alone, he found he could slide the rod inside his ass or pussy, sometimes even his mouth, and just idly play with it for hours, sliding it in and out, feeling it inside of him and squeezing around it, tasting it and drooling on it and gushing slick all over it. Sometimes he simply left it inside him as he tried to read or eat, but eventually he did find he needed to fuck. By that time, however, his guards had heard him moaning over the toy for hours and usually came to sate him like the attentive servants they were.

But they’d stopped taking him to the barracks. They’d stopped taking him anywhere at all.

Then came the day when they disappeared, and Rulian found the door to his chamber locked. Had they forgotten him? Someone did remember him, because presently a beta came to serve him breakfast, but when Rulian asked after his guards, the servant only shook her head.

The guards did not return all day, and Rulian began to wonder whether this was at last the torture he had steeled himself to expect when he had first surrendered himself to Gasredal. When the same servant came with supper, Rulian realized he really should overpower her and try to get out when the door was open—but he was already too weak with need. He was so wet. His toy had exhausted him, and yet he was thoroughly unsatisfied.

The food the servant left behind was the same sweet fare he had lately so enjoyed, but he was utterly uninterested in it. Fruit tasted like sawdust in his mouth.

He spent the night burning up, aflame as though with fever. When he finally woke from what fitful sleep he’d managed to endure, the entire bed was soaked through with slick and sweat.

Still, his guards did not come to service him. Still, the door was locked.

When the servant came to bring him another breakfast, Rulian could not bring himself to rise to greet her. His body ached as though with sickness, heavy and weak. His mind felt sluggish and dull. He could feel the glassiness of his eyes, the blazing heat inside his mouth. The food was now intolerable, even the smell sour and rancid now to the delicate apparatus of his nose.

He needed something else in his mouth. He needed it so badly.

Rulian had encountered an addict, once, a minor courtesan in one of the northern palaces. “Opium,” Alberic had explained, steering him away from the courtyard, where the courtesan lolled on a bench alone. She’d looked like she was dead. “It’s dangerous,” Alberic went on. “Never start a thing you can’t stop, Rulian. It has the power to destroy you.”

Rulian, who had been eight, had made a face at him. “I can’t stop being your brother,” he’d said, because Alberic was always lecturing.

Alberic had just laughed, light catching in his golden hair. “Well, Brother, I shall be very careful not to destroy you, then,” he’d said.

Rulian thought of it now. He realized what they must have been giving him when he had first arrived, the key to his transition: alpha come. They’d put it in his food. They’d put it in his drink. They’d made him an addict, unable to live without the thick taste of it flowing through his system. They had made him unable to stop. He would have given anything in the moment for just one drop of it on his tongue.

They’d destroyed him, and he had let them.

That night, the betas came and took him away.

*

When they put in him in the palanquin, Rulian thought he would be brought back to the barracks. His whole body felt weak with relief, but the ride was much longer than usual. Soon enough, he had to face the fact that he was being taken elsewhere. Then the ride was over and the betas were helping him off the palanquin, wrapping him in a cloak with a hood in the night and ushering him toward a small, iron-studded door.

It was a side entrance, Rulian realized, looking at the rich expanse of white stone wall beside it gleaming in the moonlight. Indoors, the décor was exquisite, lit by warm firelight in scrolled wall sconces, but Rulian could hardly take more in, too weak and wet with need.

The betas led him to a small, moonlit pool within an enclosed courtyard. The water was strangely warm, despite the cool night air, and the betas proceeded to bathe him, washing his hair, scrubbing his fingernails, flushing him thoroughly between his legs. It should have felt nice, Rulian thought vaguely. Did any of the betas have a cock? Cock was all he could think about, really. He needed one inside him so badly that the warm clean water felt like a violation. He should be bathing in come.

Then the betas helped him out of the pool, leading him next to a stone white bath. This one was filled with a white liquid, and for a moment, Rulian’s heart leapt, thinking perhaps the betas had heard his silent prayers. But then they began to help him into the new bath and he found that it was milk spilled through with rose petals. How could there be a basin of so much milk, he wondered, sitting so unused within this courtyard? Would it not spoil within a matter of days?

But he didn’t have the energy to ask these questions, and as the betas bathed him once more, this time in milk, Rulian found that unlike the other food and liquid that had been given to him that morning, the milk did not smell foul. Instead, it still smelled sweet. His breath caught as he realized what it must be—omega milk. Pumped from the tits of pregnant omegas.

Rulian had heard tell of such things. It was said to taste deliciously sweet, even to other omegas. Omegas always tasted sweet to one another, and while the betas weren’t looking, Rulian even snuck a taste. The milk was blissfully ambrosial, but ultimately unsatisfying. His body was too thirsty for something else to appreciate the softness of its flavor.

After this second bath, the betas patted him dry with soft clean towels, then tended further to his hair, oiling the long, midnight stream of it, then styling it elaborately. They left a long, silky portion to spill down his back, but dressed the rest with what appeared to be silver and pearl ornaments, elaborate and rich.

At last, Rulian came to the realization that he was being prepared for something—or someone. He had read that in Gasredal, once an omega presented, they had a public ceremony in which they were paraded before alphas, who all made bids to the omega’s parents for the omega’s hand. Rulian had found the process barbaric, namely because many people, especially women, were still quite young when they presented. To be sold like a slave by one’s own parents seemed obscene.

Rulian thought about it wistfully, now. He would love to be sold to an alpha who could care for him, who would never abandon him as he had been so abandoned these last two days, an alpha would could tend to his pussy the way it needed to be tended to. But perhaps, perhaps. Perhaps these betas were only readying him to be sold, and he took heart from this, rallying a little despite his feverish body and dull spirits.

When they dressed him, the fabric felt like it scraped his skin, too sensitive from come deprivation to bear even the lightest touch. Luckily, there was not much of said fabric, just some scraps of silk and gauze draped artfully from a pearl belt around his hips, then another spill of cloth in a collar around his neck, dipping low enough to just cover his nipples with white, lacey satin. His feet were left bare, his face unpainted, though someone put a bangle covered in tinkling silver bells about his ankle.

The bells rang cleanly and pleasantly as the betas led him down a new corridor, at last to a new set of rooms. These were more opulent than any rooms Rulian had ever seen before, the décor dark and blood red. The room smelled overwhelmingly of alpha, and Rulian almost fell to his knees in relief. The luxury of such a thick, heady scent made him want to curl on the floor and bite the air, but instead, the betas led him to an enormous bed.

The bed was covered in dark fur so silky soft that this time, Rulian’s skin did not protest when the betas urged him to climb up on the bed.

Then the betas, without ever having spoken a word to him, left Rulian alone, washed and oiled and styled, waiting.

Chapter Text

A while passed before the door clicked.

Rulian realized he must have dozed. He’d thought his body felt too sick to do so and that his mind was too excited. Why would he brought to such a beautiful room, smelling so thickly of alpha, if not to be given to that alpha? But he’d been tense for so long, so desperate for alpha come that he had exhausted himself, wearing himself out. No wonder he had slept, and waking felt rather wonderful.

His entire body still ached with a weight far too heavy to bear, the very air on his skin too sharp for his soft, sensitive flesh. But the room smelled even more intensely of alpha, and Rulian could only guess that the alpha had arrived. His heart lifted strangely. His pussy throbbed.

“I hear you’ve ripened,” said a voice, and Rulian couldn’t help but shudder. It was a deep, alpha voice, and he felt it so keenly it was as if the voice itself had entered his cunt, speaking softly into his dripping wet flesh.

Turning himself toward the shadows at the door, Rulian couldn’t stop himself. He spread his legs and whined. “Please.”

“Begging for it already?” said that velvet voice. The shadows seemed to move closer, and Rulian stared at them longingly, pleadingly.

He realized that there were tears in his eyes. “Yes,” he breathed, closing his legs partially to rub his own thighs together, trying to give his suddenly gushing pussy some relief. “Yes, please, please—”

The alpha clicked his tongue. “Mm, poor thing.” A heavy step advanced farther in the room, and Rulian whimpered. “Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” Then the alpha came into the warm soft glow of flickering firelight.

His hair was tousled, curly and dark. His eyes were a deep dark black, his jaw and brow strong, and Rulian had seen him once before, many years ago now.

The Kingdom of Gasredal had been on better terms, once, and King Shadarian had planned to send both sons to the shining capital of Luoth to attend Rulian’s presentation ceremony in a state visit. For some reason, only one of the sons had attended. Knowing him as Rulian now did, he could imagine that the Gasredalian advisors had deemed Severin unfit to represent his kingdom in a state visit. The young prince was depraved, almost savage in his petty cruelties and tastes. The elder prince, however, had comported himself well, representing both his father and younger brother with dignity and grace.

Rulian hadn’t liked him. He’d found Prince Sorcus slick in front of others but secretly cruel, mistreating all the servants that had attended him and nearly driving his horse into the ground at the one hunt they had attended together. “He’s still a boy,” Alberic had told Rulian, even though Sorcus was a year older than Alberic. “Give him time.”

This had made Rulian dislike Sorcus all the more intensely. Alberic was a deeply compassionate man, always warm, always forgiving—but everyone knew that he was especially generous whenever he saw a pretty face. Sorcus’s face was exceptionally pretty, Rulian had noticed. Alberic had noticed it, Rulian was sure. The very thought of it made hate harden in Rulian’s heart.

As though seeing evidence of said hate in Rulian’s stubborn expression, Alberic had laughed, mussing Rulian’s hair. “Even if he is a brat,” Alberic had continued, “I’ve heard his brother is a horror show. That can make a man mean, you know? We can’t all have angels like you for little brothers.”

Rulian thought about Alberic turning his currently fond expression onto Sorcus. He thought about bashing Sorcus’s face in with a hammer. “I’m not an angel,” Rulian had said, through gritted teeth.

“Ahhh, yes you are,” Alberic had said impatiently. “I saw you talking to that girl he scorned the other night. And, well, you have this little mouth.” His thumb had brushed over Rulian’s lips, but then he’d turned away, laughing.

Rulian had stood there, frozen, as Alberic walked away. Rulian had only recently presented as an alpha, but he'd known long before that that he was doomed.

But now Sorcus was here, advancing, and Rulian was almost mindless with need, such that when Sorcus got onto the bed and spread Rulian’s legs, Rulian let them flop open willingly. When Sorcus parted the curtains of silk and gauze to see what was hidden beneath Rulian’s skirt, Rulian helped gather the scraps of fabric to hold the skirt open. And when Sorcus put his large, alpha hand between Rulian’s legs, underneath Rulian’s cock, Rulian gave a soft, needy little cry. “Please.”

“But you’re so filthy,” Sorcus said, taking his hand out from between Rulian’s legs. Having barely even brushed Rulian’s cunt, he was bringing up his fingers to smell them. “Hm,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “Didn’t the betas clean you up? I’ll have them flogged.”

“N-no,” Rulian managed to stutter. “They—they did. I . . . I . . .” He felt too hot to explain. Words were far too much. “Please,” he said again, lifting his hips, offering his pussy.

“Oooh, I see.” Sorcus’s voice rumbled soft and gentle. “You soiled yourself since they washed you, like a desperate little bitch.”

“Mm-hm,” Rulian agreed, biting his lip, lifting his hips up again.

“All right, okay, pet. I get the picture. Let me see it again.” Then Sorcus spread Rulian’s legs wider, so wide that it hurt. Rulian could feel the stretch in his thighs, and Sorcus was leaning in, examining the pink gash of Rulian’s pussy, the hard arch of his small cock, the leaking filth of his ass, his non-existent balls.

“Amazing,” Sorcus pronounced, then maneuvered Rulian’s legs once more—not closing them, exactly, but pulling up Rulian’s knee, putting his hand over the kneecap, resting his cheek on that hand. “You know that Cuthred says your snatch tastes like syrup? Clotted cream, strawberries, something like that. The man’s obsessed with it.”

Rulian was still biting his lip. He could feel that his eyes were wide.

Sorcus sighed. “You’re come dumb, aren’t you?”

Rulian didn’t know what that meant. He nodded.

Sorcus sighed again. “Cuthred gets these bitches so worked up. I understand that he wants them to stabilize, but you’re practically overripe. Rotting off the vine. Come dumb,” he said again. “It’s when a bitch like you is so addicted, they can’t even form a sentence. It’s to be expected; I just thought, someone like you . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind. Come now, answer the question. Do you know what you taste like?”

Eyes wide, Rulian shook his head. For some reason, even though Cuthred really had gone on about the taste, Rulian had never thought to sample it himself.

“Fine,” Sorcus said. Then he was opening Rulian’s legs, and without any warning his hand was against Rulian’s cunt, his finger dipping inside, scooping unerringly into the wetness of Rulian’s body—

“Oh,” Rulian said, his body jolting. “Oh, oh, please, please—”

“Enough,” Sorcus said, removing his hand suddenly, casually flipping Rulian’s legs closed. “And quit your whining.” Moving up on the bed, he was suddenly on Rulian’s body, the weight of him heady and perfect, his blunt finger suddenly at Rulian’s mouth.

Rulian immediately opened and began to suck.

What Cuthred and the guards had said was true. His own slick tasted good, very similar to the milk he’d bathed in earlier, though thicker, syrupy and heavy, like honey. He moaned around the finger, but it wasn’t the taste that was really satisfying, that made him suck and lap and swallow, needing more and more. It was the fact that he finally had part of an alpha in him, even if only a finger, and he needed it. He needed it so much.

“Pretty,” Sorcus commented, then drew his finger out.

Rulian whined. “Sorcus . . .”

“Oh, you remember me,” said Sorcus. “How kind. But pretty cunts like you aren’t allowed to say my name.” His finger tapped Rulian’s mouth. “What should you call me?”

Rulian didn’t know. It was everything he could do not to open his mouth and try to take Sorcus’s finger again.

“Come on, dumb slut,” Sorcus said. “I really thought the Silver Moon of Luoth would be more fun than this. What should you call me?”

Rulian honestly didn’t know. The feeling of a hot, heavy alpha above him made it hard to think. The only thing he could really focus on were thoughts of Sorcus’s cock. It must be so big. And thick. Rulian had never wanted anything more in his whole life.

Sighing, Sorcus rolled off of him. “Let’s play a game,” he said, getting off the bed. “I’m going to sit in this chair,” he said, walking over to a velvet and mahogany chair across the room. He sat down. “You’re going to crawl across the floor to me and open my robes. You’ll unfasten my trousers, then take out my cock. If you can think of a way to properly address me by then, you can suck it. Does that sound nice for you?”

Rulian whimpered. Then he moved, sliding off the bed into a puddle on the floor. His limbs felt weak, and crawling in the silks was difficult. The scraps kept catching under his knees, but the incentive was so strong Rulian barely noticed.

“Very good,” Sorcus said. “Very pretty.”

Rulian felt a thrill course through him, vibrating low in his throat, a soothing feeling. He liked being good. He liked being pretty, and Sorcus’s thick, muscular thighs were already spread wide, his royal robe dipping between them. When Rulian finally got there, he fumbled with the fabric, but another thrill was moving through him, warm and vibrating and hot.

Sorcus grabbed him by the chin. “Are you . . . purring?” he asked incredulously.

The warm alpha hand forcing Rulian’s chin up felt so good, the thrill kept moving through him.

“Not even most born omegas purr like that, much less bitched ones,” Sorcus said, his hand gentling. “It’s a dying gene.”

Rulian felt the vibration move through him, low in his throat, and it was true. It was a purr. He was purring, like an animal, like an omega in an ancient fable, the kind of fantastical creature that was more animal than man. He couldn’t help it; he purred some more. The warm skin of the alpha just felt so good, and he was going to get cock, and he was so afraid he wouldn’t think of what to say, and the rumble moving through him was so soothing.

“Poor kitty!” Sorcus said, real sympathy in his tone. “I’ll punish you if you don’t get it right—will that feel good?”

It wouldn’t feel good at all. Rulian needed cock. He’d been punished enough. For some reason, he nodded anyway.

“Good kitty.” Sorcus let him go, and Rulian went back to pawing at the robes, getting them open.

He was too eager, now, to continue that soft vibration. He had to concentrate on the trouser ties, and his hands were shaking. At last, he got them open, and Sorcus let him reach inside. Rulian’s hand dipped in, and when he felt it, his mouth fell open. His eyes rolled back. He heard himself make a little sound, another soft mewl of need.

Sorcus’s cock was so big. It was so hot. It was so hard. It was so soft. When Rulian finally got it out of the trousers, it looked twice as big to him as the guards that had been servicing him. He couldn’t help it; he moaned. He began to drool. He moved down to take the cock in his mouth, but Sorcus grabbed him by the hair.

“Ah, ah,” he said, wagging his finger. “What does a slut like you call a man like me?”

Rulian stared at the cock, then knew the words. Swallowing, he lifted his eyes. “My lord,” he whispered.

Sorcus’s brows went up. “What?”

“My lord,” Rulian breathed. “My liege. Your majesty. My—my prince.”

Sorcus threw his head back and laughed. Then he jerked his hand down and shoved Rulian down on his cock without any sort of preamble, forcing Rulian to open wide and choke on it. He choked, and choked, and felt so deliriously happy that his whole body went limp, and then he was moaning continuously, whorish and loud, filling the whole room with his moaning and choking and desperate, hungry sucking every time Sorcus pulled his head off then smashed it back down.

“Lord,” Sorcus repeated, chuckling. “I was going for master. You know that, right, you dumb bitch?” He forced Rulian back down on it, hard, thrusting a little against the back of Rulian’s mouth. “Ah, but this throat is like fine silk. I knew it would be. I wanted to bitch you myself; did you know that? I could have done it personally. Imagine the alpha you once were, fighting me every fuck. You always were a vicious little bitch—you know that, right? Right?” He asked again, jerking Rulian’s head back, off the cock, arching Rulian’s neck so far Rulian thought for one second his neck might snap.

He should have felt worried. Instead, the only thing he could think of was getting his mouth back on that cock.

“You were a vicious bitch,” Sorcus said. “Say it.”

“I . . . was a vicious bitch,” Rulian whispered.

“Good,” Sorcus said, then pushed him back down. “Remember when you tried to tell me how to ride that horse? ‘Give him his head,’ you said. ‘Let up on the reins.’” Sorcus laughed. “It was comical, almost, how much I wanted to make you give me my head. I could have really shown you how to ride. Such a stuck-up,” he said, thrusting deep and hard in Rulian’s throat—“self-important—” he thrust again—“prissy—pretty—selfish—little—cunt. Ah.” He came, then, flooding Rulian’s mouth, but he didn’t knot, thrusting shallowly now into Rulian’s mouth, letting him taste the come.

“Okay, okay,” Sorcus sighed after several more thrusts into Rulian’s mouth. “I’ll let up on the reins.” He let go of Rulian’s hair, then, which Rulian half regretted.

The cock had gotten so deep inside him with Sorcus’s forcefulness, but now that he’d let go, Rulian could lap up all the remaining come and make sure he got the taste filling his mouth, his eyes rolling back in his skull every time he felt the bursting flavor on his tongue.

Sorcus went on petting his hair, a little. “You were just so concerned for that poor little horsey! I should’ve known then that you’d be docile if you were turned. Just another helpless slut now, aren’t you? Poor thing. Poor kitten.” His hand slid back down to Rulian’s chin, and he lifted it. “I think ‘my lord’ is excellent. You’re nothing but a subject now, a vassal. You’d kneel to me, wouldn’t you? You’d swear fealty.”

The come Rulian had been given had only whet his appetite, but he felt so much better, practically bubbling with excitement. He was going to get more. His lord was sure to give him more, surely—surely. He nodded.

Sorcus patted Rulian’s cheek. “Fix me a drink, then take off those rags and get on the bed. You’re so come-starved you’ll probably die if you don’t get more, right?”

Rulian nodded quickly.

“Then be a good pet.”

Rulian didn’t know where the drinks were, but he scrambled up, looking around. Behind him, Sorcus was undressing, and Rulian had to force himself to search for the drinks rather than look back at the alpha’s tall strong body, all those thick muscles, the dusting of dark hair. At last, he found the decanter sitting on a shelf, a cut crystal glass beside it, and he rushed over to it. Trying to keep his hands steady, he poured out a reasonable amount and brought the glass to Sorcus.

“Thanks,” Sorcus said, surprisingly, taking the glass. He was naked now, and Rulian could only stare at the long line of the alpha’s throat as Sorcus tipped his head back and downed the liquor. Then he was done, and Rulian thought maybe he should take back the glass.

Sorcus, naked, strong, and beautiful, just looked at him.

Hesitantly, Rulian reached out for the glass.

“You dumb slut.” Turning away, Sorcus went to put the glass back on the shelf. “What did I tell you to do after getting me a drink?”

“Oh,” Rulian breathed. He did remember; he’d just been—distracted, and he began to jerk at his clothes, trying to claw the belt off, the collar—

“Don’t.” The crystal clunked on the shelf, then Sorcus strode toward him. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Here.” Then Sorcus was there, his strong hands on the scraps of clothing, carefully removing the flowing top half, unbuckling some hidden buckle on the belt as Rulian stood there, trembling.

“What’s this?” Sorcus asked, flicking one of the silver hair clips with his finger. “They really dolled you up, didn’t they? You don’t need it.” Then he began taking out the clips, dropping them onto the floor one by one, until all of Rulian’s hair was loose and flowing over his shoulders. “A shame, to tie that up,” Sorcus said. Then his hands buried themselves in Rulian’s hair, and against his will, Rulian’s eyes fluttered closed. Sorcus combed his fingers through it, and Rulian moaned.

“You really are just like a little kitten, aren’t you,” Sorcus murmured. “Just need someone to play with you. Come on. Let’s see whether you’ve learned anything since you were such a nasty little bitch about your horsey.” Moving over to the bed, Sorcus lay down. He gestured at his cock. “Show me how you ride.”

Rulian felt his eyes go wide. He’d never . . . Despite how many alpha cocks he’d taken since his surrender, he’d never ridden. He was always the one who was mounted, but then his eyes fell on Sorcus’s thick dick, and his mouth began to water all over again. Biting his lip, he approached the bed.

“Don’t be shy, now,” Sorcus soothed, tone gentle. “I did all that work undressing you. You can at least do a little of the work yourself.”

Nodding, Rulian climbed up on the bed, still biting his lip.

“Good pet.” Sorcus put his hand on Rulian’s thigh where Rulian knelt on the bed beside his hips. “Now mount me; there’s a good bitch.”

The praise made another warm thrill course through Rulian’s body, up through his throat. Sorcus smiled, petting the side of Rulian’s plump, naked thigh. Then Sorcus’s hand squeezed him there, and Rulian took courage, throwing his other thigh across Sorcus’s body, knee landing on the other side of Sorcus’s hip.

“Good bitch,” Sorcus murmured again, bringing his other hand to Rulian’s other thigh, holding Rulian there, poised over his thick alpha cock.

Rulian closed his eyes. He was still purring.

“Such a good bitch,” Sorcus whispered. Then he pressed down, guiding Rulian down onto his cock.

The head breached Rulian’s pussy, and Rulian threw his head back, gasping.

“That’s it,” Sorcus said, then slammed him down, forcing Rulian to take the thick full length of it at once.

It was good. It was perfect. It stretched him in the most magnificent way, and Rulian’s whole body was on fire with an instinct to fuck. He didn’t resist, lifting himself up on Sorcus’s cock then driving himself back down, then again, and again. He rode it hard, jerking up and down on it, posting on it; it really was like riding; it was exquisite; it was everything.

He was moaning; he couldn’t stop, his head thrown back, lost in the pleasure of it, taking it again and again and again; his hair was messy; some of it was in his mouth; his lord was rising up to meet him, to give it to him, to put it in his pussy, and Rulian’s cunt squeezed tight, trying to hold him, but then Rulian rose back up, and his lord moved back down, until Rulian jerked down onto him again, and his lord thrust back up.

They were perfect. They were a perfect rhythm, totally in sync. Rulian’s whole world was the pulsing of his pussy, the canter of his hips, the thrust of his lord’s cock, his lord’s cock, his lord’s cock. It was everything, everything.

Rulian slammed down again, and Sorcus groaned, gripping Rulian’s hips tight. “You’re gorgeous,” Sorcus growled. “You know that, right? You know how beautiful you are?”

“Yes,” Rulian said, arching up. “Yes.” He slammed back down. “Yes, yes, yes—” He knew it. He knew everything about it. Alberic had told him once, in an unguarded moment, that he was beautiful, and Alberic had been a little angry, and a little drunk, and he’d pretended it hadn’t happened the next morning, but Rulian had remembered it. He’d always remembered it, so he knew it to be true, because Alberic said it, and Alberic never lied: he was beautiful. “Yes,” Rulian hissed, then came.

Somehow it happened in both his dick and cunt, all at once, his dick jerking, untouched, dribbling its watering come, Rulian’s pussy convulsing. Rulian shouted hoarsely, slamming down on Sorcus’s thighs.

“Shit,” was all Sorcus said, and then he was flipping them over, driving Rulian down onto the bed, fucking Rulian’s cunt so hard Rulian could feel it all the way to his teeth.

Rulian felt as though he’d never been split so wide open, not even by all those soldiers in the barracks. He spread his legs wide, then wrapped them around his lord, holding his lord’s hips in tight, making sure that alpha cock would not stray too far from where it belonged. Rulian knew that he was drooling, his mouth open and his eyes rolled back, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it; he was in heaven; his lord was going to come in him.

“Fuck,” Sorcus grunted, railing Rulian’s wet pussy as hard as he could. “You already look fucked stupid, and we’ve barely even started.”

Rulian managed to swallow. “My lord . . .”

“Fuck.” Sorcus grunted again. “Fuck, listen to you.”

“My lord, please . . .”

“Yeah.” Sorcus just kept railing him. “Yeah, beg for it. Beg.”

“Please,” Rulian whined. “Please, my lord, my lord, I need . . .”

“Say it,” Sorcus growled.

“I need . . .”

“Say it, bitch; I want to hear you beg for it.”

“C-come,” Rulian stuttered. “I need come, my lord’s come; it need it; I need it . . .”

“Where?” Sorcus snarled.

“Wh-where? In . . .” Rulian gulped. His lord’s thrusts were getting more erratic. Was he going to . . . ? Would Rulian finally get what he needed so very badly?

“Say it, you daft slut,” Sorcus growled. “Say where you want me to dump my lordly come in you; say where you need your lord’s cock; say you’re nothing but a useless whore for my pleasure; say it—” Then Sorcus changed the angle, and Rulian squealed.

He was going to come again. He knew it. “I want—I want my lord’s come in—in my—my pussy, my—my cunt, my wet, bitch, omega cunt, my—my lord.” Then Rulian was coming, the force of Sorcus’s cock against his womb finally driving him into orgasm.

“Good bitch,” was the only thing Sorcus said, but then, suddenly, Rulian could feel the knot begin to grow.

“Yes,” Rulian cried through his orgasm. He was crying actual tears of relief. “Yes, yes, please, please, knot me, fill me, fill me up with your thick—” He shivered—“hot—” he arched, trying to take more of it—“come.” Then Rulian was sobbing.

“Fuck,” Sorcus grunted, his knot widening as come began to pour into Rulian’s body. “Fuck,” Sorcus repeated. “Can’t I fuck a bitch without you bursting into tears? Come on.” Knotted now, still expanding, Sorcus pulled the corner of one of the sheets over to Rulian’s face. “Clean yourself up. Should’ve known you’d be a crier; you were such a sensitive brat.”

Rulian sobbed harder, his body shaking in relief, finally. Finally.

“Come on,” Sorcus said, wiping Rulian’s face. “Shut up.”

Rulian choked, and Sorcus rolled them over. Rulian’s head was now resting on Sorcus’s chest, his pussy blissfully full, the knot inside pumping come deeper and deeper inside his body. Gradually, the tears receded, every bit of tension leaking out with them. Rulian’s body was completely limp, his muscles like liquid. His insides felt like liquid too, pumped full, as though the warm, thick stream of come flowing from his lord’s knot was flowing through his whole body. Rulian felt so full, his body so content, nothing to do but lie there on warm skin and get fuller, and fuller.

“Good,” Sorcus murmured, petting Rulian’s hair. “Lie there quietly like a good bitch.”

“Mm.” Rulian barely processed the words, his body so sated with pleasure that his mind felt hazy.

Several long minutes passed in comparative silence, Sorcus’s chest warm underneath Rulian’s body, Sorcus’s hand idly playing in Rulian’s hair.

“How long did they starve you?” Sorcus asked suddenly. “Of come,” he added, in case that wasn’t clear.

“Mm.” Rulian pressed his face against his lord’s chest, trying to get more of his warmth.

Sorcus’s hand tightened in Rulian’s hair. “Answer me.”

Rulian’s answer was automatic, almost as though he couldn’t help but obey. He saw no problem with this. He wanted to obey his lord. “Almost two days.”

“Two days?” Sorcus made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Just two days, and you’re already falling apart? I’ve never met an omega that dick-addicted.”

Rulian tried burrowing his face into his lord’s chest again.

Sorcus sighed. “It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed; you’re obviously helpless. I’ll see to it you get what you need. Does that sound nice?”

Rulian nodded his head against Sorcus’s chest. “Yes, my lord.”

“Yes?” Sorcus said. “You want to be my little pet? My little bitch I eat at meals and feed to all my guests? You’d like that?”

“Mm-hm.” Biting his lip, Rulian nodded again. “My lord.”

“And you could sleep on the floor beside my bed, and I’d lead you around on a little leash—does that sound nice? And any alpha I like can bend you over and take you, so that way, you’re always properly fed.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Okay.” Sorcus went on petting him. “But you should know I punish pets when they’re naughty. They get sent to the corner without their dinner, or I whip them.” When Rulian shuddered, Sorcus asked, “Does that scare you?”

“No, my lord.” Rulian hesitated. “I try never to be naughty.”

“Yes, I know, I remember that about you. Such a little miss priss.”

Rulian hesitated again. “I didn’t know you . . . thought so much about me. Back then.”

Sorcus just laughed. “Of course you didn’t. Did you have eyes for anyone other than that brother of yours?” Rulian went stiff, but Sorcus just laughed again, pressing him tighter onto his still flowing knot. “Anyway, that’s all in the past. You’re my bitch now, at least until I get bored of you.”

Rulian had no idea what Sorcus would do with him when he got bored, and so it was that he resolved then and there to do everything in his power to keep Sorcus interested. Forever.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Rulian woke to a large, warm ripple inside him, his body, heavy with sleep, carried on a wave and then crashing, crashing, then carried again, wet, wanting, full, enormously full—oh.

He was being fucked.

It wasn’t at all like the times he had phased back into consciousness in the barracks. There, he had only ever drifted in and out, but now, this time, he’d been in a deep sleep, far, far below the surface, and this fucking was slow, gentle almost, building in intensity, in heat. His mouth still didn’t work to speak. He was still not awake enough to open his eyes. His whole body was humming with the rhythm of it, his hips gently beginning to rock with each wave, his pussy a whole sea, and he moaned, a long “mmm” sound, and he moaned again.

The hot crash of cock beat against his walls, and he could only arch into it, each hot wave drowning him, until finally his mouth fell open, gasping for air, and he could hear himself crying out, “ah,” with each wave, “ah, ah, ah.” Then he came, his whole body flowing molten over the cock inside him, his body going limp even as his pussy continued to pulse. He was washed up on the shore, shipwrecked, then the cock inside him began to swell, as though to stabilize him, hold him there so he could not once more wash away.

He came with me, Rulian thought, nonsensically.

A voice whispered in the shell of his ear. “Go back to sleep.”

Rulian’s whole body felt warm, content, full. He slept.

*

Rulian came awake gradually as the cock inside of him deflated, loosened, dislodging. Then the warmth was leaving him, and he was left in a wet empty pool, cooling, shivering. He whimpered.

“Don’t move,” said the voice in his ear. “Just lie there.” Though the body on top of Rulian didn’t move much, heat entered Rulian’s cunt again, thick and full. The alpha on top of Rulian was already hard once more, not having needed to recover from the knot.

It was like a dream. I’m still asleep, Rulian thought deliriously. I’m still asleep, but his pussy was still raw from the stretch around the knot, his womb still full of that last load, his dick still limp from the way he had come earlier. It was the most perfect dream he had ever had. Rulian didn’t want to wake.

Eyes shut tight, Rulian couldn’t listen to what the voice had said. Wrapping weak arms around the big strong body above him, he slid his hands down a muscular back to thick, strong gluteal muscles and grabbed them, squeezing, pressing the alpha’s hips against his own. Tipping his pelvis up to meet each thrust, he spread his legs wide. “Yes,” he chanted, eyes still closed as the cock inside him fucked. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Go back to sleep,” the voice whispered again.

“Yes,” Rulian cried out, arching his spine, tipping his head back, spreading his legs still wider.

“Fuck.” This wasn’t meant for Rulian, no longer spoken in that rough, soft tone. “Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut.”

Then there was something soft on Rulian’s neck—his lips, Rulian realized. The alpha was kissing his neck, hot, soft, hungry. In all the ways he had been fucked these last six months, Rulian had not been kissed.

He’d never been kissed in his whole life.

“Ah!” he cried, a short, sharp sound, then had to scramble. The mouth was coming off him for some reason, and Rulian had to keep it there, hooking his chin over the alpha’s shoulder, moving his hands up to bury his hands in the alpha’s hair and hold him, but this took his hands off his grip on the alpha’s ass. Rulian moved his legs, wrapping them around the alpha’s hips, hooking his ankles together behind the alpha’s legs, holding him in so he could not escape, so he could drive that cock deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

“Oh, fuck,” the alpha said, against Rulian’s neck, and then the alpha’s whole body was convulsing.

It was too much to ask for for the alpha to knot him twice in a row, but Rulian still wanted all the come. Locking his legs around the alpha’s body, Rulian held on tight, like clinging to a mast in a storm. “Oh,” he cried out softly, suddenly, eyes popping open as he felt the swelling in his cunt. “Oh.” He shuddered, his own body convulsing—the alpha was knotting him again, again, pumping him full of rope after rope of thick, glorious come, and Rulian felt the tears spring into his eyes. “Th-thank you,” he stuttered, his whole body jerking on the knot. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“Shut up,” the voice said, too quickly, and then a mouth was covering Rulian’s, not very nicely. Teeth bit down, then lifted. “Just shut up and take it,” the voice muttered. “Just take what you’re given, don’t . . . don’t.”

“Mmm.” Rulian’s arms were still around the alpha, his hands in the alpha’s hair. It was thick, dark hair, silky and unruly. Rulian found it glorious, burying his hands in it, stroking, grabbing, his whole pussy flooded with nothing but alpha; he was full, so full. His whole cunt had changed shape to fit alpha knot. “Mm,” Rulian said again, letting his eyes flutter closed, letting himself drift.

After a moment, Rulian realized something was wrong. He tugged on the alpha’s head, then tightened his legs. “Put your weight on me,” he whispered.

Sorcus puffed a soft, incredulous breath.

“Please, my lord,” Rulian whispered.

Sorcus lowered himself on top of Rulian’s body—so much heavier than before. He’d been holding himself up this whole time.

Rulian immediately went back to sleep.

*

Rulian awoke once more to cock deflating, beginning to slip out of him. Cunt tightening, he whined. His legs had slid off, no longer wrapped around Sorcus’s hips, but Rulian brought them back up to hold him in.

“No,” Sorcus said, pushing Rulian’s thighs back down.

Rulian brought them back up anyway.

Huffing a laugh, Sorcus shoved them back down. “Bitch, I said no.”

“Mm?” Feeling confusion knit his brow, Rulian blinked his eyes open. He still wasn’t fully awake, not yet, but he’d come to rely on that hot strong body, that big long cock, and Rulian still felt so wet, so needy. Didn’t Sorcus want . . . ? Rulian lifted his hips, trying to offer up his bitch pussy.

“Fuck.” Sorcus released a breath. “You—you can’t just look at me and expect to get what you want.”

Oh. How many times had he been fucked awake? How many times had Sorcus fucked him last night, before he’d drifted off? It had been at least two more times after Rulian had ridden him. An alpha in rut had almost no refractory period and could rail a bitch for hours, but Sorcus obviously wasn’t in rut, even if his stamina was very impressive. Feeling ashamed of himself for needing it just so badly—after all, as Sorcus had pointed out, it had only been two days—Rulian’s hips dropped down to the bed. His eyes dropped too.

“Dammit.” This also wasn’t meant for Rulian. “Inconvenient bitch.” Then Sorcus was climbing off of him and flipping Rulian over, yanking Rulian up to his knees easily, as though he weighed nothing at all. “Grab the headboard.”

“Wha—?” Rulian tried to look over his shoulder.

Sorcus grabbed his head and forced it back forward, shoving him down. “Do what I say, cunt.” Then Sorcus’s hand was at Rulian’s ass, and alpha cock was entering Rulian’s hole. It shoved in so hard Rulian’s whole body shunted up the bed, and Rulian quickly fumbled for the headboard, holding on as Sorcus fucked him from behind, now, in the ass.

“Ahh,” Rulian called out again. “Ah, yes, yessss,” he hissed, Sorcus’s cock hitting new places inside of him, so hard and rough and fast and so unlike those other, gentler times that Rulian had to hang off the headboard for dear life, hanging his head between his arms. Still, he tried to press back into the fucking so he could take more of it, and more of it, just in case Sorcus could knot him again and then Rulian could have it—in his ass—

“Fuck,” Sorcus grunted. “I can feel you leaking my come. You’re such a sloppy fucking mess.”

“Yes,” Rulian agreed, thrusting his ass back for it. “Yes, my lord, yes, please.”

“Come sit down,” Sorcus said, wrapping his hands around Rulian’s abdomen, then sliding them up under Rulian’s chest. Then Sorcus was pulling, forcefully, lifting Rulian’s whole upper body upright, until Rulian’s back was flush against Sorcus’s chest, and they were both of them sitting on their knees on the bed, Rulian’s legs straddling Sorcus’s thighs. Rulian’s ass was now firmly seated directly on Sorcus’s cock. Then Sorcus was taking Rulian’s hand, guiding it, putting it on Rulian’s pussy, just a little above where Sorcus’s cock joined with Rulian’s ass. “Feel that?” Sorcus said. “You’re like a come dump, aren’t you?”

It was true. Rulian’s whole pussy was brimming with alpha come.

“Ride me,” Sorcus said in his ear. “I want to feel it gush out of you into your next hole.”

This was . . . possible. In their new position, the come leaking out of Rulian’s pussy dribbled down Rulian’s small perineum, right down into his ass, onto Sorcus’s cock. Rulian moaned an incoherent protest, not wanting the come in his pussy to leak out. He wanted to keep it inside.

“What was that?” said Sorcus’s voice in his ear.

“Keep it in me,” Rulian mumbled, his cheeks hot, even while he sat and bounced a little on Sorcus’s hot cock. “Please.”

“You want to keep it in you? What, the come?” Sorcus demanded. “What, you think it’s yours?”

“Mm.” Rulian tipped his head back on Sorcus’s shoulder. He bit his lower lips, hand still playing with his pussy as he rocked. “Mm-hm.”

“Fuck.” Sorcus released a breath. “Fuck, you selfish bitch. I’ve done all the work all morning; don’t you know that?”

“Mm-hm,” Rulian said dreamily, nodding against Sorcus’s shoulder as he continued rocking his ass, playing with his pussy. It felt so good. It felt so, so good. It could only feel better if there was another cock to fill his pussy, but his ass was so hot and tight—much tighter than his pussy, which, as Sorcus had pointed out, had gotten sloppy. It really was so sloppy; Sorcus really had done so much work, filling it up so nicely, and now Rulian’s ass was really full. The only thing left was his mouth, and Rulian really wasn’t thinking about it when his hand rose from his pussy with a great big glob of come, then fed it into his mouth.

The taste exploded on Rulian’s tongue, making his whole body spasm. Hungrily sucking his fingers, he let his eyes flutter closed.

“Holy fuck.” With one violent shove, Rulian was suddenly forced down, back onto his knees, now down onto his hands on the bed. Then Rulian didn’t even have hands for balance, his arms collapsing as Sorcus rammed him down, his head forced onto the mattress. His ass was in the air, and Sorcus didn’t stop to let him adjust, just fucking him, hard, over and over, deep in the ass.

It was nice; it was so nice; Sorcus had to do all the work this way and Rulian could just lie there. He reached around, hand fumbling a bit against his body. Then he got his hand under him, back between his legs, where he could play with his pussy some more and bring more of that still hot, thick alpha come up to his mouth.

“Fuck you,” Sorcus grunted behind him. “Fuck you, you useless little cunt.”

“Mm,” Rulian agreed, sucking on his fingers, then reaching around down under himself, between his legs, to get more of the come dribbling out of his useless little cunt.

“Fuck, you know, I could rail any bitch I wanted to,” Sorcus went on. “You know that, right? Your cunt isn’t special.” He fucked in long, deep, then pulled out. “It’s nothing to me.” He slammed in again. “It’s nothing.”

“Mm,” Rulian agreed, sucking on his fingers again. Closing his eyes, he could almost imagine he had another alpha cock in his mouth.

“I can make you scream for me,” Sorcus said, pumping into Rulian’s ass so hard that Rulian could feel Sorcus’s public bone slamming against him.

“Yes,” Rulian agreed, taking the fingers out of his mouth. He still felt a little dreamy, but Sorcus was really working himself up. Maybe Rulian would get a knot again? He thought maybe if he helped a bit . . . Trying to muster strength, he lifted himself up again, then immediately collapsed. Ah, he’d really been fucked so much, and the stuff in his pussy tasted so, so good. Maybe he could just get another taste . . .

“Fuck,” Sorcus snarled, as though the sight of Rulian reaching down to dig out the come from his own pussy so he could suck on it angered him personally. Maybe it did, because suddenly he was coming.

“Oh,” Rulian gasped, breath expelling. Forgetting about his pussy for a moment, Rulian let Sorcus’s orgasm wash over him. It send a tremor through him, arching his spine. “Oh, my lord,” Rulian whispered, shuddering at the feeling of the hot waves pulsing inside him, more come, pulsing inside him. It was good. It was perfect. It made him whole; he was whole.

Then, unbelievably, Sorcus’s knot began to swell.

“Oh,” Rulian said again, but this time it was a soft, wounded sound.

“You want it out?” Sorcus said from behind, his voice rough.

“No, oh, no, please.” Rulian squeezed his ass tightly. “Please.”

Sorcus scoffed. “Dumb bitch. Think it matters what you want?” But that was all he said, and then he stayed. Then something soft brushed Rulian’s shoulder blade—Sorcus’s lips.

Rulian felt something break inside him, ridiculous gratitude that he was getting knotted and pumped full once more making him nonsensical, a little incoherent. He thought he might be crying. “My lord, thank you, please, thank you.”

“Stupid cunt,” Sorcus muttered. “Can’t you even go two minutes without bawling? Fucking hell. Just—just go to sleep, or something.”

After a few moments, Rulian managed to stop crying, tension from the latest activities once more seeping outside of him. He had a knot filling him, and the hot, tender pulse of it was calming. He closed his eyes.

Somehow, kneeling on the bed with his ass still in the air, hanging on his lord’s knot, Rulian went back to sleep.