Renegade grinned, and said simply, “Oh?” Giving him a ghost of her true purr to encourage this particular train of thought.
“Your beauty is dark and matches this life to perfection,” the male continued, voice trembling as he spilled his heart’s blood. For her. “A wildling Queen I serve with pleasure,” he whispered, purring a ragged Feral purr for her. “I’d do anything, Miss. Just name it, and I shall make it your pleasure.”
“And if you can’t?” she asked, startled by the tingling flow of blood that plumped the lips of her pussy.
“Oh, I will,” the slight thing assured her. “If I cannot make it so myself, I shall have one of the others go in my stead. I’ll pay them however they wish.”
“Even if they ask for your ass?”
Sickle paused, making sure he had her gaze when he said, “Especially then.”
Licking her lips, Renegade pushed a hand through her mane. Hating the tinkle of the chain as it passed over her shoulder.
But Sickle caught at the offensive trickle of silver. Licking at the skin beneath. Soothing. Pressing himself against her hip even as he hid the evidence of their bondage under the closest fur.
“Miss?”
She snarled, confused. Both dominant in spirit and submissive in body. A living contradiction that needed nothing so much as the firm hand of an Alpha.
An Alpha like Giaus.
Howling her rage, Renegade wrapped her fingers around Sickle’s throat and forced the Omega male to his back. Mounting him with Giaus’ name spilling from her lips. A filthy curse, if the intention behind both syllables was anything to go by. There wasn’t a need to prepare her Sickle to be mounted. He’d been ready for days already. Balls so swollen with unspent seed, that his back arched and his face scrunched around a pained cry.
Her pussy positively gushed at the sound. At the idea of taking her pleasure from him. Perverse pleasure bought with cruelty.
Nothing less would do for the Queen beyond the Krust. Nothing.
Fisting a prick that embodied the word ‘dainty’, Renegade jerked him off with long, sure strokes. Enjoying the act of submission when his eyes rolled back and his hips came up. Thumbing the pearly drops of precum, she switched hands. Feeding him a hint of his own salty flavor. Snarling when he suckled at her finger with an eagerness she couldn’t have foreseen.
“Renegade—please!” he cried, fists balled at his sides. Face tight with pleasure and what she could only imagine was also pain.
“Cum,” she barked, feeling her pussy drip.
Sickle’s eyes popped open. Tongue lolling out as he obeyed. Spraying himself with rope after rope of sperm. Shooting all the way up to his neck as the purple-red tip of his knob flashed in her clenched fist.
Hypnotized, Renegade couldn’t help herself. She hunched, dipping low, tongue darting out to taste that fountain of cum that didn’t belong to her mate.
Sickle’s fingers found purchase in her mane. Clenched. Hips straining, he forced her head down. Utterly taken by the animal urge to bury his seed in heat and warmth. Sending the last ropes of cum into the back of her throat, he mashed her nose into the tight nest of pubes at his base. Fucking at her face gently, as only Sickle could.
And when he grew over-sensitive, squeaking with each slippery pass of her tongue around his modest girth, she began to fight him. Let her teeth graze at the length of his shaft, instinctively knowing just how much he’d love that taste of real danger. Knowing that it would keep him hard enough to send his next load into her pussy. Where it belonged.
Unable to stand it any longer, Renegade guided his tip to the glistening, clenching opening desperate to be filled, and took him to the hilt. Not giving him the satisfaction of recovery time or the pleasure of working her hips up and over his shaft, Renegade rode him. Keeping him buried deep as she mashed her swollen little clit against his pubis. Working toward a satisfying orgasm she intended to be the first of many.
“M-Miss,” Sickle panted, hands finding a home on her hips. Trying to slow her selfish movements, even as he swelled anew. “Please—”
“Beg,” she snapped, taking his hands and placing them on her nipples. Demanding, without words, that he tweak the sensitive nubs until she came all over his dick. Drunk on the power of having male flesh between her thighs. Utterly pliant and obedient to her. “Beg for the right to cum in my pussy, Sickle. Beg your Queen for mercy.”
“Please!” he cried, fucking up into her now. Sweating. Pupils no longer holding even a whisper or Feral gold. Completely taken by the black. “Please, Miss. May I cum? I need to cum. You’re so perfect. I… I lo—”
Renegade slapped him. Startling him into obedient silence before the fuck-drunk male could profess emotions she had no intention of returning.
The splash of pain and harsh denial must have sent the little male over the edge, for with a strangled cry, he pinched two of her nipples and began to cum. Shivering and spraying, his throat worked around tiny, filthy little sounds that tipped the scales for her too. Making her internal muscles clench and squeeze; unforgiving pressure surrounding the delicate knot that tried and failed to bloom behind her pubic bone. Sending a torrent of potent Omega sperm into the furs beneath their sweating bodies. Rejected.
When the panting stopped, and their hips had gone still once more, Renegade realized her mistake. Too late.
Could feel the onset of heat tugging at her innards. Demanding she ride him again and again and again. That she didn’t stop until she’d claimed every fucking drop of semen her slave could produce, then scream herself hoarse until the other males came to do the same.
Teeth bared, she shook her head and said, “Again.”
After all… knowing there were consequences to playing Giaus’ game didn’t stop her from doing it. Couldn’t. Not with the Trax working changes where she couldn’t see them. Waking instincts she’d never learned to temper, and biological demands she couldn’t resist.
“Again,” she said, and reached beneath her Sickle to find his tiny tail.
Three vertebrae long already…
Chapter 13
Sickle had lost track of the days. Lost himself to Renegade and her pussy stuffed full of dark magics that kept him hard and filled his sack with the feral urge to copulate. Over and over and over he spilled his seed. Inside her. Across her cheeks. In her mane and hair. Unable to stop himself until dehydration took the decision away from him and he collapsed across her belly. Still humping at the sodden furs. Ear pressed to her chest so he might hear just another moment of that beautiful purr…
She hadn’t been much better off, his beautiful Feral Queen. His Renegade. And he’d watched with wide eyes as her tail grew. Each passing day of Giaus’ absence saw another vertebra built atop the last. Until it got hard to count and she gained mobility over that reclaimed limb. Tail flicking and thumping against his thigh as he mounted her.
He’d only tried to touch it once—and had gotten slapped and bitten for his efforts. Watched as her eyes blew out and her scent grew heavy with the hormonal surge of another Canicule. But it was laced with something… else. With a hint of something wild that hadn’t been before. The Trax. Changing everything. Giving them gifts they didn’t yet know how to use. Gifts that would enslave them until they figured it out or succumbed to that slavery.
Sickle suspected that Giaus had returned sometime while Renegade’s tail—and his own—still measured in vertebra below ten. Though why the Alpha hadn’t shown himself was beyond the Omega male indulging his every fantasy with the female of his darkest dreams. It wasn’t until neither Omega could go on that their nesting pit was shaded by his return.
“Drink,” Giaus purred, lifting Renegade’s head with gentle fingers. Placing the edge of a cup—a real cup!—at her lips. Feeding the precious female until she was roused enough to push at her Alpha’s wrist and sit up. Only then did Giaus turn his attention on Sickle.
Tugging him onto his lap, Giaus propped Sickle’s head on
the meat of his shoulder and fed him a cool wash of fresh, clean water. Quenching the very last of Sickle’s thirsts before he succumbed to sleep. Deep, healing sleep.
“Not just yet, my pet,” Giaus rumbled, and began to purr. Singing a wild song of beauty that rose in lilting passages in perfect harmony to that of Renegade herself, though true, the wildling female would be loathe to admit it.
Thrumming deep in his chest, the Feral Alpha sent the sound straight into Sickle’s ribs. Rousing him past endurance. Forcing him to run on little more than corrupt instinct. Pawing at the angry red of a prick that had seen far too much use. Ridden raw and marked with abrasions that might have lined up with Renegade’s teeth, though Sickle was the last who could really say for certain.
“You did well,” Giaus said, gathering a dollop of something slimy. Something that allowed a thick, rough finger to invade the delicate ring of Sickle’s asshole without so much as a whisper of denial. “But you’re not finished. Not yet. Just once more,” Giaus purred, “and then you may rest.”
Sickle mewled when his Alpha’s finger struck something deep. Something that made his eyes snap open and his hips lurch. Forcing his poor, abused penis to inflate anew.
“Good. That’s good.” Rumbling ceaselessly, Giaus began to adjust his Omegas. Shifting limbs lax with overuse. Positioning his smallest male and only female until he chuffed, satisfied. Sickle was flat on his back, cock throbbing where it was nestled between Renegade’s thighs. Her cheek pressed to his collarbone, tiny breaths puffing sweet and hot against his throat. And then, taking Sickle’s dick in one massive hand, Giaus pumped him once, twice, then abandoned him.
“Alpha?” Sickle asked, blinking awake. Voice hoarse and all but unrecognizable.
Without speaking, Giaus took his mate’s tail in hand. Careful of the developing, skinny thing. Gentle with the as-of-yet hairless skin, though he forced it back. Forced it to leave her open, vulnerable to his attentions no matter that Renegade’s eyes popped open. That her jaw slackened and her eyes rolled back.
Sickle was ready. He tilted his chin back and submitted, happiest beneath the weight of the breeding pair. Content to let them rut above him as he lay neglected. Getting off on the friction of Giaus’ flexing thighs. On the sounds of the other pack males purring and murmuring their encouragement.
Renegade didn’t slap him; she presented for her mate, whining as he wrenched her tail free and clear. Gasping when Giaus sheathed himself in one. Boring into her depths until he ran into the frigid wall of her cervix. Pressing harder still, Giaus set his teeth and remade that claiming mark. Fucking into his female relentlessly, not drawing back, yet going deeper than any before him had managed to go—or so Renegade had confessed. Crying and begging Sickle to penetrate her cervix though she knew it wasn’t possible. Making his eyes water in turn, for Sickle knew—no matter how much he wished it were otherwise—that he would never be able to breach her deep enough to satisfy the Canicule.
But Giaus could.
Giaus would.
Snarling at her nape, Giaus bred her before the pack. Hips pumping his massive tool into slick heat that he’d remade. Not stopping until Renegade lurched beneath him and her guts echoed with an audible pop! of that massive Alpha prick slamming home.
Only then did Giaus pause. Forehead misted with sweat. Jaws gaping around the panting effort to cling to the fragments of his impressive restraint. Turning Feral eyes down. Pinning Sickle to the furs he’d soiled with an Alpha’s permission.
“Enter her,” Giaus commanded, lips pink with a fresh claiming mark.
“Alpha?” Sickle asked, chest compressed beneath them. Breath short.
“Take your prick in hand,” the Alpha said, forcing each syllable through his teeth, “and fuck my mate. Do it now, while I have her opened for you.”
Sickle lurched. He’d forgotten the point of all this. Drunk on pussy, dehydrated, and starving, he’d forgotten what Giaus meant to do here.
“Now!” Giaus barked, voice laced with a powerful chuff backed by the entire pack. By the fledgling sounds of the other Alphas echoing that command. Their voices heavy with the gifts of the Trax, and the mutations that gave them the secrets of the ancients.
It reduced little Sickle to a puddle of obedience—though Renegade herself squirmed. Seeming to come awake, as if she knew the great evil Sickle was about to inflict on her.
Unable to stop or ask permission, Sickle did as he was told. Taking his battered penis between forefinger and thumb, the Omega male slid into the moist heat he’d come to love with all his heart. Feeling something foreign wrapped around Giaus’ girth. Something that stopped the ecstasy of skin on skin. Something that bunched around the bigger male’s knot. Binding it and stopping it from inflating.
Renegade squeaked, trying to buck. As if she didn’t realize how truly pinned she was. Speared by two cocks, one massive thing buried deep within her womb. The other slender, yet responsible for sustaining her through this second, unnatural Canicule. Already spurting, Sickle eased inside. Hissing against the painful pleasure. Balls already drawing tight.
“Seed her,” Giaus hissed, sweating freely now. Eyes boring into Sickle’s without blinking. Without pause as the lesser male worked friction into his cock. Teased the Alpha’s bound knot. “Breed my mate, Omega!”
Sickle’s eyes rolled back as his cock exploded inside her. Convulsing, he sprayed the biggest load of cum he’d ever produced. Spilling his goddamned soul into that beloved pussy.
Completely unaware as the rest of the pack howled their collective victory, each reaching an orgasm of their own as Giaus bred his new generation of Feral kits…
Chapter 14
Rumbling, Giaus rolled off and away from his Omega male. Fearing that he’d crush the precious little thing even as they used his potent seed. That he’d gone all the way to the Krust for contraception wasn’t the trick he intended to play. Oh, no. He’d gone so far and risked so much for another far more… sinister reason—but that was a surprise that would have to wait until he’d fed each and every drop of Sickle’s sperm into Renegade’s womb.
Withdrawing from the tight ring of her cervix, Giaus eased back until his glossy helm lay at her entrance. Pushing a few stray globs back in. Using the broad side of his forefinger as a blade to scrape at those that stubbornly clung to his shaft—or rather, the sheep’s bladder condom. Satisfied that he’d collected enough, Giaus took her newborn tail in hand once more, twisting her right arm behind her back, he adjusted the chain affixed to her collar, then shunted back into nirvana. Corrupting it as he guided and coaxed. Injecting Sickle’s cum where the smaller male could never put it himself.
The perverse taboo of the act—of fucking another male’s semen into his mate—threatened to bring Giaus off before he could accomplish this morbid task. But he persisted. Making sure to gather as much of Sickle’s cum as he could before teasing at her cervix once more. Forcing inside, laced with the seeds of Omega young, Giaus began to fuck his mate. Earnestly.
With each withdrawal from her womb, she cried. Tail flexing in his unbreakable grip. Hands clawing at the furs, toes scrambling for purchase. But not once, even through the worst of it, did she beg him to stop.
And he would have, for with that very first cum-slicked poke through her gate, he’d accomplished his task. Infected her with sperm when she was ripe and had recovered from the chaos of the Trax running amok within her fragile system.
It was his gift to his pack brothers, this seeding. This… breeding of new Omegas from a mate he hadn’t yet had the time to properly woo. Giving to them what he’d taken for himself. Showing that while he was king, and his word was law, he was also just. Willing to sacrifice for his people and flatter them with the spoils of war; feed them before he took his fill. Fight his Alpha instincts for the betterment of the pack and kingdom.
Renegade, however, had yet to be so appeased. Even through the fires of Canicule-fueled lust glistening in her black gaze, he could see
a hint of what she tried to hide. And how could he not? That she’d caught and held his attention spoke only of how perfect she was. His Queen.
But motherhood, Giaus knew, would temper his mate. And so he continued. Pumping and growling until he couldn’t bear it any longer, and came. Spraying the inside of his absurd sheep’s bladder condom, hissing when his knot tried to bloat. Failed, for it was bound around his testicles. Allowing orgasm; preventing the instinctive seal to ensure his progeny. After all, Giaus wasn’t here to be selfish.
He felt her sheath flutter around him. A tired orgasm wrung from muscles that had been crying for his touch these last days of her Canicule. When she went limp, still clenching at his girth, Giaus stopped. Let his thundering heart begin to slow when his female could no longer respond.
“It’s done,” he rumbled, and eased his tip into her womb one final time. Feeling the copious flood of his semen squeeze out around his bound sack. Soaking furs already long past soiled. “If we’ve been blessed with Omega kits,” he continued, tearing his eyes from the sight of his mate so thoroughly tamed to meet the Feral gazes of his pack brothers, “only time can tell.”
The Beta males crept forward. Newly growing tails tucked in submission as they approached their Queen. Reverent. Purring their encouragement even as they stripped naked and piled into the nest. Licking and touching. Reacquainting themselves with the female who would never tolerate such behavior if she were awake.
And though he wasn’t nearly satisfied by so short a session, Giaus allowed it. Climbing from the nest as he joined his Alphas, Silver and Balkazar.
“She won’t be so tame when she wakes,” Silver warned, voice strained, prick still swollen and fat in his leathers.
Giaus took note of their restraint. Noticed that they offered respect, before seeing to their own pleasure—and was pleased by the gesture. He shrugged, letting them see just how eager he was for the coming fight with his mate. “No. She won’t.”
Taming the Renegade Omega WIDE Page 5